Therapeutic, not therapeutic...
..I don't know, sometimes I just feel the need.
I'm not brave enough anymore to stare into the mirror to do it, so maybe looking at my reflection through words on a page will do the trick. What trick?
I'm unhappy. About pretty much everything.
There's little way to fix it, at least for the time being.
I just don't know how to cope until I get there, and even then, when I have to turn around, and face the same dark place I'm seeing now.
Even dreams and hopes get so disappointing, it doesn't help anymore to set a goal and then strive for it. The passion is taken, it's sold or stolen, I'm not sure which.
Disaster without a name is a silent death you're not even allowed to mourn, or make your cry be heard.
This is what depression tastes like. Even anxiety and her fights are tired of hanging around with me. The brain damage is done.
I'm not brave enough anymore to stare into the mirror to do it, so maybe looking at my reflection through words on a page will do the trick. What trick?
I'm unhappy. About pretty much everything.
There's little way to fix it, at least for the time being.
I just don't know how to cope until I get there, and even then, when I have to turn around, and face the same dark place I'm seeing now.
Even dreams and hopes get so disappointing, it doesn't help anymore to set a goal and then strive for it. The passion is taken, it's sold or stolen, I'm not sure which.
Disaster without a name is a silent death you're not even allowed to mourn, or make your cry be heard.
This is what depression tastes like. Even anxiety and her fights are tired of hanging around with me. The brain damage is done.