– TW: Depression, Su*cidal Ideation

Depression isn’t always 
Visible scars, it’s not always
Sitting in your bedroom with the blinds drawn, 
In week-old pyjamas, listening to The Smiths 
And fantasising about who would come 
To your funeral. 

Sometimes depression is 
White-knuckling through your day job, 
Trying to push away the negative thoughts 
And just focus on the thing 
That keeps a roof over your head 
And the lights switched on. 

Sometimes depression is 
Sitting in a crowded mall 
Hurrying to enjoy a cappuccino 
Before the cracks appear, 
Fighting a losing battle with the tears 
Everyone else pretends not to see. 

Depression is getting home and collapsing
Because you no longer have to keep the mask on, 
But that was the only thing holding you together.  
Depression is ice cream for dinner 
Because you’re too exhausted to cook. 

Depression is holding your cat just a bit too tight
And crying because their toe beans are so precious. 
Depression is laying on your back 
Staring up at the ceiling and sinking 
Into a warm black hole of molasses 
And burnt marshmallows. 
Depression is being overwhelmed 
Because tomorrow, you know – 
You have to get up and do it all over again. 

Depression is the dark shadow
That spoons you as you cry yourself to sleep. 
It’s the good morning kiss 
Of a day that’s not quite as bright for you. 
It’s the weight of chains around your shoulders 
That no one else can see, chains 
Around your ankles dragging you down into the deep. 
Depression is staring hard in the mirror,
And for a split second not recognising your own face,
Because the person looking back…
Actually looks happy. 

Depression is what keeps your tongue 
Still and your mouth closed, 
Because other people don’t know 
That talking about your problems 
Or popping a pill 
(Which to choose – red or blue?)
Isn’t going to make the loneliness go away. 

Depression is hanging on to the corpse of hope, 
Because you’re too afraid to let go
Of the thought that things 
Could still get better for you.  
It’s in that stab of jealousy you feel 
When you look at others 
And see life, warmth, joy and happiness;
All the things you’ll never be able to hold
Without fucking it up for yourself
And anyone who loves you. 

Depression is not the thing that kills;
It’s the thought of living your whole life this way
That eventually pulls the trigger.