Going Down

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The light slowly leaving.

Dolor creeping into this blank space in my head.

Swallowed up in this ever-deepening gray haze minimizing my liveliness.

Pitch-blackness, my old friend, immobilizing me again.

No energy, desire, motivation or strength.

This thick sadness creates a loneliness where hope can’t creep in.

Courage oozes away, one drop after another of life leaking to somewhere it can’t return from.

Goals left to die in the waves of this depression.

Silent tears pitching between wet, heavy sobs.

An aching all-encompassing deep pain leaving invisible scars.

Severe despondency and dejection, I doubt life can go on.

It’s a reality in my head not worth living.

Escape from that which continually pulls me down feels impossible, this devastating extreme of the opposite of happy.

It feels like I’m stolen from me.

I feel over.

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Cloud Hurt

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Lynn Greyling

I’ve been on #9.

It was amazing. For awhile.

Was too young to know it might end badly.

Fooled by the soft and comfortable.

Got pushed off. Hard.

Too stupid on how to deal.

Fuck Cloud 9.

The landing was excruciating.

Purging

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Explaining My Depression to My Mother: A Conversation by Sabrina Benaim

A  most productive exclamation of feelings.

For the delivery of, but also being a witness to.

I was reminded how emotional outbursts can be an easing of my burden.

After existence becomes too much, sometimes only rage and tears

can get me back to center.