The depression is an easy companion. Oblivion on my coat tails and I smile sometimes, through the sharp edges of my mind. I wonder how it can come back again and again when I thought I was such a strong fighter. I let it crawl under my skin and catch me in all the familiar places. In front of the mirror, as my eyes close for sleep, when I am walking down the street, on my way to work, when I am staring at the screen, even while I settle into my art. The question of what is it worth, why do I continue?
I wonder if this day will be my last, if I will let it win and the darkness will drop, stamping out all my light. Then it rolls, waves over my thoughts and I find my beacon, even if everything in me says to give up, I continue. There is little that I truly desire, and yet I have my attachments, this life, my love. It could be a mistake, that I am here and each day reminds me that I am not quite enough and it would be easier to drown down, release the air from my lungs. I look back at the photographs, when the dark hung behind the smiles, how long have I kept this?
I care too much to shut down. Even in writing this, there is hope. When all the doors and windows close, a crack remains, the sun comes in anyways. I am behind the scenes, grasping onto the strings that connect me to the future, where I don’t have to hold the tears, the bubble bursts and I can spill out. I can sense the sorrow, the pieces that continue to die in me, and yet I plant more seeds, and try to remember to water them when I am aware enough. There are two sides, the empty pours into the full and I patch up the walls that I tear down. Rebuilding my own destruction.
It’s an easy companion, reminding me of my weakness. Waking me up when I become too comfortable, just when I begin to believe that there is beauty inside too. So the pain remains for now, dim lit but there is still tomorrow. I take comfort in knowing, there is hope. Suffering is grace, I can only imagine the person I will become.