Goodbye, Depression

Glaring at the paintwork that rivalled Picasso I can only wonder about how I let myself fall so far into the abyss. Desperately tumbling downwards, spinning in circles and losing gravity, gasping for oxygen. And as I debate how I ended up spiralling into this empty hole I realise...I can return.

I can climb out, even if I have to scramble to do so. Even if my fingertips scrabble upon the edge of the ab-salt and dangle for a while...I can take control. I don't want to be numb-that's no way to live my life, expressionless and emotionless.

Life is for feeling, for living and not merely surviving.
My mind may be weak at the moment, my body may be physically exhausted and my emotions may be sprawled all over the place. But I can feel. I can hope. I can be strong. I can overcome this.

Interestingly enough I was so scared to allow myself to cry, to hurt and to feel, so I blocked everything out by pouring them into the bottom of a glass that was topped up with vodka, surviving on a diet of alcohol, bitterness and rage directed inwards and stencilled canvasses.

I admit, depression, you almost had me. You made me seriously consider ending my life in the hopes of stopping the emotional turmoil, you wrapped your web around me, succeeded in constantly making me stumble...but you haven't made me fall.

You may have bruised me, even cut me to ribbons..but it's superficial and not life threatening, I see that now. I see that because I'm strong, and I realise now it's long past due that I started to fight back. It's time to show the world the strength that can't always be seen.

You're a thief, nothing more and I'm going to take back what is rightfully mine-control. You probably think I wont make it, but you'll see. You'll see that I will become the best that I can possibly be and that I can conquer anything. You may be winning the battle, depression.

You will never win the war.