Note to depression I

I have returned to this in hopes it helps me hold on. I am so glad I wrote it.


It is late, you know. Even by your standards. The world has been up and working for hours. But I know it doesn’t matter. It just makes you feel worse, right? The bite of guilt to start yet another morning in a long line of mornings that bear the same introduction. You don’t want to get up. It is all the same. Not a single thing comes to mind when you start making lists of what to do. In that haze of grey, you don’t find anything worth climbing out from under those blankets. You are as exhausted and you were when you closed your eyes last night. I know. Another day has coughed and sputtered into existence in a mind that wants no more days. It dawned to a person that wished nothing more than to not wake up from that deep and peaceful slumber. Those are the only…

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