Clinical Depression

It never felt quite so real until I found out I was “clinically depressed” and it completely makes sense. The first bout lasted for the final eight months of 2017, but this one is different.

For four weeks, I’ve been numb. I drink on the weekends and make people laugh at the bar. I forget not, that my feeling don’t work, but I persist in letting others know I appreciate that they exist. They are my friends, I think… at least that’s what Facebook says.

And it just sucks that I can’t love, but I also get to laugh when people throw hate my way: A ten year old grudge took the air out of one of my tires last week.

I wonder if things will begin to click again.

I wonder if I will feel pain again.

I wonder how long my feeling will be taking this sabbatical.

I thought I was in love. Am I still?

I wonder if I’d prefer to be manic…

Extreme highs sound nice.

I’m low until the whiskey hits my lips.

I’m low when I wake up to my scripts.

🎼”I gotta…. I gotta find another way.

I’m ready to give.

But I don’t know if I’m a giver.”🎼

K.Flay Giver

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