I have learned there comes a point,
When you are too sad to go outside.
The laundry machine’s won’t hum.
You eyes pander to moving vehicles,
your soft edges become thick, hardened shells.
No, it’d be wise to stay in and listen to the drone of the television,
your cats maniacally purring, tender voices wistfully
having conversations in the distance, just outside of arm’s reach
just outside the rim of any of your cares.

I heard others who talk all day long about warm rooms,
kind people who don’t take pity on long-faced, sullen eyes,
and dancing even!
But I have come to learn there is just a point
when everyone who looks at you can tell you
are too sad,
too buried.
And so you take the long walk home,
watch the glistening to christmas lights still hung
on banisters of quiet homes,
in an April, almost summery sky,
and you go to bed
and hope tomorrow’s not the same kind of pointless endeavor.
And you imagine, somewhere someone is thinking a simple comforting
“I wonder what she’s up to tonight.”

2 thoughts on “Depression”

  1. Don’t go around it.

    I read that from a friend yesterday and I’ve been mulling that one over for a bit, and what I reckon it means is that your sadness is valid, your grief has an origin, and in order to resolve the conflict that keeps you frozen in place it’s important to acknowledge the source of that thing that weighs you down. By acknowledging a reason why, you’re able to form a path to catharsis within yourself and ideally champion your way back to functionality.

    Of course I know your journey is your own, and one potential solution is not a ubiquitous get out of jail free card, but here I am reading you and I wanted to offer up my penny’s worth as someone who struggles on occasion too.

  2. Thanks. I appreciate it but I don’t even know how to talk about it in a way that would make sense to anyone who listens.
    It seems super pointless. I don’t know how to be happy anymore.

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