It’s 10 p.m. and I’m alone once again. Accompanied by my big cup of almost cold tea, and my long list of movies I no longer pay attention to. The solemn awareness that my depression grows worse as it once did before. The awareness that I am getting bad again.
It’s 10 p.m. and I have company once again. the quiet but stinging whips of lingering words and phrases of hatred, desintigrating whatever assurance I’ve been given until the morning light. The invisible daggers and knives shoved into my ears and through my heart. They stay to make sure I don’t feel lonely.
It’s 10 p.m. again, and I am never alone.
Trust yourself, you know more than you think you do.
You’re doing good. Keep building. They’re almost done, these walls of steel. Box the sadness and bury it deep. Until it overflows like a brand new sea.