Depression is crying all day, filling a daily bucket that must be emptied.
Depression is checking for messages, waiting for phone calls that don’t come.
Depression is tired. Too tired to care. Too tired to love. Too tired to live.
Depression is blaming myself for falling and needing superhuman strength to pick myself up.
Depression is quiet.
Depression is secretly eating away at my personality, my zest, my abilities and talents.
A temporary reprieve
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