Employed By Depression

I keep running away from almost every opportunity I get, especially with jobs.

But in reality, depression has become like a job to me over the past 10 or 11 years.

It’s consumed almost every ounce of me. It doesn’t matter what I’m doing or not doing, it doesn’t matter if I’m with people or alone.

Every other day if not everyday is a constant struggle with having too much sleep or not sleeping enough, eating or not eating at all, feeling alone yet needing to isolate myself so that I don’t annoy people.

People tell me to find a hobby, to get up and do something, but even when I find a hobby.. or do something I feel I’m decent at, I either lose interest by finding another interest or I get bored or give up because it’s too difficult.

What seems to be my rock bottom, usually doesn’t feel like it’s enough to help me soar to the surface.

Yet despite all of these things, I’m still fighting even when I’m on my last straw.

I’m still fighting even when I feel as though I’m at my lowest point.

Someone once told me that it’s sometimes harder to let go than it is to hold on.

That may not be true for some people, but I feel as though it’s true for me personally because no natter how much I want to give into letting my body give up, no natter how many times I run away and create a new identity, no matter how many times I try to give up, for some reason, I snap out of it. I find something that motivates me without even searching for it and it’s enough until it isn’t enough again.

Mom, dad, I’m your son.

Mom, dad, it’s as though you have three sons instead of two and one daughter
Was what I said to my parents before I realized I was who I am today
Although I may have said it in a joking way, I was being serious
And maybe, just maybe, I’ll say it again to them
And maybe, just maybe, I can tell them that every time they say ” I love you…. but…” that the ” but ” only encourages me back into the closet I forgot existed besides the one I store my clothes in
So dark, so full of confusion and self hatred
They may be confused, but so am I at times
But they still have a child, just a slightly differently version
They didn’t lose a daughter, they just lost the label
They gained a son

Therapy Subway

Therapy rides, is what I’m going to refer to them from now on
Those subway journeys to and from the rap sessions
Although sitting is already helping
New environment, different people
Exciting surroundings
Mental illness can sometimes feel like a chore you’ve been burdened with
Crying because you lost a piece of paper with an important date on it but you don’t want to call the dentist office and have them know you’re disorganized
Panicking because you rubbed a piece of constructive criticism a harsh way
But these rides, they keep the good feelings at bay and relax the frustration

Photoshopped Reality

I worry that it’s out of line, out of your comfort zone, boundary                                                                                                                                                                                                 But I want to, tell you, show you things that don’t come easy to me                                                                                                                                                                                       Baring them would mean that I’m giving you permission to take it all in

Destroy what I am meaning to give to you, handing over those that my hands have reaped, but not sewn                                                                                                               Dissect me, compare and contrast the things that make me tick and what you’re intrigued by                                                                                                                                         Light my way into easy paradise with your sun kissed window                                                                                                                                                                                                   Let me peer through, further depths Inside what one would call soul                                                                                                                                                                                 Heart

I want to know more about you because what I see in your pictures                                                                                                                                                                             Photography only an amateur would want to photoshop, take away from                                                                                                                                                                           Your beauty that radiates without even a red room, red light to reveal the blemishes that only your scars now show                                                                                                     I care about you in ways that I didn’t know I’d come to, stumble upon, across                                                                                                                                                                     Fall into every time we converse

Hi, hello, I don’t even need a conversation with you that goes beyond just a simple salut, hola                                                                                                                                              to feel what I feel, to know what I know and to want what I want with you, from you, by your side

I barely know you, but your writing implements, implies more than I could even begin to tell you                                                                                                                             Please continue to inspire others the way you inspire likeminded individuals and people who feel the need to tell you how they feel regarding your status                                 I cry just knowing that you’re still here, friend or no friend, I see you in a different light and storytelling doesn’t justify me

Dying to get a taste of life.

Earlier I was out longboarding, just as usual, nothing different. Just lit a cigarette, had my music playing from my phone and pushed my feet off the ground repeatedly to gain speed.

What surrounded me was the same as it always is around this time of the year. Trees blossoming with pretty flowers, colours blended intogether, mosquitos quenching blood and the fresh sent of fall. I’ve seen the same things aorund me for the past 25 years of my life.

But something felt different, everything looked the same, but they felt different. Was it that I was longboarding a bit later than I usually do, or the the sunset fell later than it normally does, or were the wheels of my longboard slowing down?

Do you ever go somewhere you’ve been numerous times before, nothing physically has changed, but you feel change, like some sort of small aspect has changed your outloud on what you see?

I believe that’s what happened, I started appreciating what I saw in that moment. I saw tiny little aspects, I disected the different colours of the sunset, noticed where the mosquitos and other bugs laid to rest and how settle it made me feel in that moment.

It was as though, my worries, my past didn’t haunt me, but settled me and I felt it. I didn’t feel like dying was the answer, but living was.