My depression wasn’t late nights and sad songs,
It was sleeping all day or none for a week,
I couldn’t think for myself as i was stuck on auto pilot,
My mind was trapped in a prison i didn’t build,
And screaming for help was useless no one was around for miles.
When i started to dress in things other than hoodies and sweatpants,
Everyone thought i was a-okay again,
I didn’t want to be a bother so i just went along with it,
I’m fine i’m good but was i really,
Not lying to everyone else but myself as well.
My depression fueled my eating disorder,
And it was too much for my boyfriend so he left,
I don’t need him or anyone else,
I’m going to get through this on my own,
Regardless if someone stands next to me or not.
I’ll never fully recover and that’s okay,
The calculator in my head still clicks from time to time,
And the clock by my bed will still scream at me in the afternoon,
But i can ignore the numbers and get out of bed,
If that’s not recovering,
ive suffered w/ bulimia and severe depression for over 4 years and i know thats not long and i may not have been underweight or been impatient but im recovering one day at a time.