deconstructing the depressive.

I have felt the sting of loss.
In those melancholy moments
I struggled with loving myself
asking, “What is wrong with me?”
I have felt the curse of despair
not knowing if a light would appear at the end of a long, dark tunnel
while waking up to mornings
Filling the room with sunshine.
And I could only feel emptiness.
I had stood on rock bottom.
My own worst critic
letting monsters inside my head dictate and control
my every move
Retreating to safe spaces of my room
while I let life go by
right outside my window.
It was a choice to break free,
a choice I voluntarily make every day
just as my alarm goes off
A choice to not live in the shadows
A choice to love a little piece of me
day after day.


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