Depressive Episodes

Me, Myself and I.

They are the only people that I trust,

For they don’t judge,

They buckle down beside Me,

And they understand.

They feel the weight, like lead on our collective chest.

Depressive episodes are hard to identify for us.

Not because the symptoms are so minor they are hard to see, but because the change is gradual or abrupt,

There is no pattern.

I wake up with a head ache,

Nauseous, every muscle fatigued,

And every thought heavy.

My brain on autopilot.

I get up, get dressed, and go.

I don’t go to the bathroom,

Nor look in the mirror, brush my teeth, check if my clothes are clean, shower or eat; because,

What’s the point?

I have my earphones in and I listen at full volume, so I don’t hear anything or anyone else around Me.

I have no want for the outside world.

I have no need for interaction.

I have no desire to be here and I question why I left my bed internally in my head over and over and over and over and over again.

“Because you need a job to get money” I tell Myself,

“And we need money to live” another voice tells Me,

So I keep shuffling,

Until my day ends,

And I can finally be Me.

With Myself and I.

Other mornings are full of light,

My soul is helium,

Rising with the sun.

I feel ready and excited,

I can’t wait to get up.

As soon as my eyes open,

Yesterday is forgotten,

I am clean, I gleam and smile.

No one would doubt my state of mind.

For they too have forgotten the other side.

But this never lasts,

And soon I deflate,

I have a hole somewhere that I am unable to patch.

As soon as I stand it starts to fade,

Helium leaking out like gasoline burning up a car crash,

It’s a slow burn, that crescendos to an eruption of doubt.

Of fear, of pity, of denial,

Of everything inside Me, that I dislike about Myself.

The parts of me crash and crumble,

Disintegrating, deflating; soul returned below.

I fight with Myself every morning,

I think I shouldn’t trust Myself,

But what would that mean for Me?

Would I disappear?

Leaving Me with Myself?

How long could I expect Myself to go before snapping,

And Me, in the corner unsure of who I should trust.

I see Me arguing with Myself all day

But I could never trust Myself.

Every day, it’s anyone’s game.