• Depression is not just a battle. It's an entire war that you fight with yourself. You are the hardest enemy to defeat because deep down inside the only one who is getting hurt is yourself, and you are the one doing it.

    I feel like I spend my life on a treadmill and while repetition can soothe the soul it can also crush it beneath the weight of it's steady hand. The rut that i'm in seems so deep; six feet in fact and some days I just want to lay down and stay there. The walls seem so sheer, like made from a glassy rock, and when i try to escape, when i try to feel, the emotions find no purchase and i'm left alone at the bottom of a pit of melancholy.

    Lazy, they call me; i can hear it echo as if the inside of my head is a cavern that draws the sound over and over again to my inner ears until they ache and my heart breaks with the . . . repetition . . . of it all. I'm trying. I know i am trying because i see myself fail again and again. I want to call out to them, and tell them that 'i'm trying' but they cant hear it. My mouth isn't brave enough to speak it and my eyes, they never look into my eyes to see those words kept hidden. I blink the tears away, those words rolling down my cheeks to fall lifelessly to the floor.

    I'm just tired; that's what i keep telling myself. I never listen, but that little bit of hope in me longs to prove it to myself that there's nothing -wrong- with me that dreams cant fix. Only the dreams now are nightmares and i'm just as afraid to sleep as i am to be awake.

    There is something wrong. My doctor tells me it's a disease. But what does that even mean? Is it okay to be crazy? Or is this just another excuse to be hollow? Like an apple without a core i feel as though life devours my sweet flesh with a hunger and fervour. And yet what should be left behind, a core and seeds strong and bitter, able to withstand the hungry onslaught of the world and start anew. I lost my core, i left it somewhere; I search for it longingly in the stars and every time i grab that sparkle it disappears in the sunrise and leaves me with a hangover. I swear i'll never look for it again.

    But it's okay, I don't listen to myself anyway.