Kicking Depressions Ass
I don’t need to have a better day, I need to feel better about this one- Neil Hilborn, The Future
Most days the bad day crawls out of storage, walks in front of me and spits at my feet.
The spit is brown. I dont know why.
Or, the bad day is a cat that loves to knock all my unpleasant memories off the shelves in my head, so I have to go pick them up, and of course remember them.
Or, the bad day is whats left of the boys who sewed themselves into my skin when I wasnt watching. I kept all their bad habits.
The first one hid my seam ripper and I am too stubborn to buy a new one, because it has to be here somewhere. I am trying to pick the stitches out with my hands, and I just end up bleeding all over everything. I keep wasting money on bandages instead of a seam ripper.
The point is that I dont know how to make a bad day turn into a good day all by myself.
I need to hear your voice on a phone call, see your smile, feel the positivity roll off of you in waves.
I need them to smack me so hard I almost fall.
I need to be reminded often that I’m loved.
Asking for validation and reminders of the good in my life is,
honestly the most difficult thing about getting better.
This sickness wants me to be alone, wants me to have no other option but death.
But Im not done yet. I thought I was, once.
Sometimes we get so sick that taking our medication, going outside, talking to people, seems pointless.
I once told my mother that I’m a bomb about to go off, how I was so scared of taking everyone with me.
I don’t think like that anymore.
I am trying my best to get better, I promise.
I am a plant in a garden. I feed off rain water and sunlight, I just need someone to give me some help every now and then.