You'd think that Since the load of stress breaks my Back with its weight, That being able to relax would allow me to heal. But I am lost without the routine of school, as much as I loathe it. Depression is funny like that.
You'd think that I would be able to swim back up From the violent ocean of thoughts I assume other people have about me, But I'm drowning myself, weighing myself down with my own criticism. Depression is funny like that.
You'd think that having all the free time in the world To improve my various skills would be A blessing of opportunity, But perfectionism and laziness grip my Shoulders, breathe into my mind, "It won't be good enough anyway." Depression is funny like that.
You'd think that Without anything bad happening, The contemplation of suicide wouldn't still be smoldering in the back of my mind. But for some reason I'm blowing on the embers, and coaxing out a blaze...
Depression is funny like that.
Whew, I haven't written in a while! This is more of a vent, and some of the things I'm dealing with during this winter break.