It’s Not Romantic

You know that movie with the house and balloons?
A dog yells "Squirrel"
Yep, that's the one.
My mind works similarly to that.
One second I'm crunching NFL stats
The next a million thoughts escape like bats from a cave
That's because I'm anxiously depressed
One moment I care so deeply
The next? I couldn't care less.
When I open up about my depression
I get comments like "Oh You're so brave"
There's nothing brave about living with depression
People tend to romanticize the notion.
You know what's romantic?
Long walks with your lover beside the ocean.
There's nothing romantic about mental health disorders.
Which part seems charming?
When you're wide awake at 3A.M. because if you close your eyes
the demons come to life?
Or waking up to another set of bed sheets ripped to shreds?
Maybe it's the part where you sit in a dark room
soaking your pillow with your tears.
How about the part where I constantly wish to die?
Have you ever stood atop a mountain and wondered if you could fly?
Truth is some days I'd be willing to try.
Either I fly or I die.

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