I used to believe that people had a choice.
For the longest time I believed
that you chose who you love
But I realized how silly that was
when I noticed how I never chose
the people that I love today.

For the longest time I believed
that you could choose what you want to do
but it occurred to me that I never chose
to write stories or poems
but one day the paper and pen called to me

For the longest time I still believe
that people have a choice
that decisions can be made to change
the current situation

The most difficult lesson I learned
is that being sad was never a choice
I did not wake up one day and decide
that being sad sounded like fun
that choice was made for me
But I have control of my actions
I have control of my words
and I'll be in Hell if I don't try
to help myself first

So yes, depression is not a choice
but to a degree, how we react to it
is a choice
I could stay in bed all day
or I can get up
and this morning I felt sad
I still feel sad
But I got up
I got up
and that was a choice I made for myself