What keeps me alive when all I feel I should do is die?
This battle I have promised to fight. I did not sign up for it. I didn’t go looking for it but it found me nonetheless. It finds so many of us.
I forgot my meds. A tactical error that depression will pounce on. I forgot them one stupid night and I end up fighting for my life again. Not only do I end up fighting this battle but those I love end up fighting too. You wouldn’t understand if you don’t have depression. It’s a real cuss because you need people and then you make the choice to push them as far away as possible. You instinctually push them out of the way as if you are the speeding car, or an oncoming train, or a barreling bullet. The smarter you are about depression and the lies it tells the smarter depression gets at telling them. Depression finds a way around all your safeguards.
What keeps me alive is the promise I made. I have promised those that I love to fight. No matter how much better off I think they might be without me when I am depressed I have promised not to listen. It is hard. VERY hard.
I will fight for me even when depression tells me I am worthless.
I will fight for you because without me who will understand you.
I will fight because fuck depression.
This is my battle and mine alone.