Weakling

I tried to make this post previously and several times but each time I failed. 

Be aware this will most likely may or may not make sense to you.. My apologies.

 

It’s waves ripple through my body. Starting from my toes to the tip of my head. It’s cold yet hot. It’s a monster with human arms. It’s chains shackled around my ankles. All I can do is bleed and whimper. It whispers in my ears, it’s inaudible to others, speaking to me in this language only I can understand. I am in this prison, locked inside. Its dark. Sometimes heat floods, suffocating me.. so I press against the cold walls. Looking up, I can see light, a tiny pearl shape. Barely able to see it, I can not reach it. It is my hope, this room is my mind, this beast is depression and the shackles are my body, the blood is my self hate. I am only human and I am only trying to survive. When I look through the bars of the door, although I can not see them I know there are others. 

~

I hate relapsing. I am tired. I tried so hard to better myself. But I’ve always had this underlying feeling of ..just sadness.

 

I do not think my depression is a wonderful thing. I am not romancing it. I am simply writing about it.

 

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