I have always been afraid to say I'm better.

what if they think I didn't suffer enough?
they don't know what it took to get here.
I remember the blanket confining me to a bed,
the meals that spoiled while waiting to be made,
the self destruction I dressed up with humor.
maybe that doesn't meet their qualifications,
but suffering is not a job I applied for
even though it still feels like work.

take the depression away and what's left?
remove the dark and you get light.
remove the thick skin and you become raw.
remove the walls and you get rubble.
I can rebuild from this.
I can build a home instead of a prison.
take the depression away and you become alive.

I don't know if there is such thing as 100 percent better.
I don't know what better is supposed to look like,
but this is what it looks like for me:
it looks like getting out of bed
and setting reminders to take medication
and not canceling on my therapist
and not wanting to **** myself
and not killing myself
and not killing myself
and not killing myself.

maybe that's only 80 percent better,
or maybe 70 percent, but that's still okay.
maybe not I do yoga and run 5 miles okay.
maybe not forced positivity okay.
just okay.
that's really all I need to be.
just okay.