Some days; better than others. Some nights; never enough.
The battle with depression is fought within. It’s one of silent deceit, anger, and self-loathing; opposed to that of a cry for help. I find myself in a war tonight. My mind; enraged at things out of my control. My mind; whispering in harsh tones to upset my soul.
Cry you little bitch, but don’t wake the others. Don’t be selfish and wake those that can comfort you. That’s not a privilege of a man. Defeat your demons, and do it quietly as to still the waters.
Chin up. Stand proud.
Good boy. But don’t you dare be pleased in yourself for withstanding the torture of a busy mind. Don’t you, for one second, tell yourself that you did well. You only survived this battle. You simply avoided becoming a casualty. The war continues, and you’ll be mixed up in it again.
You’ll find yourself fighting the tears back. You’ll dig deep to find the strength to suffer in silence. You’ll tell yourself and those around you that you’re fine.
And, as always, you’ll survive. Something will grant you the foundation to stand strong. A rock to set your feet. A way to grip tight on that burden, lift with everything you have, and shout at your demons, “Go to Hell!”
Find it. Remember it. Store that away for when you need it most. It will be necessary again.
As I sit here, the house is quiet. My wife and kids are asleep, and I have to be on my way to Fayetteville in less than two hours. I’ve not slept a single second tonight. My demons fought me hard, but not hard enough. So what if I lost some sleep. I fought back. I won. It’s my job to win. There is no other choice but to win.
Please, don’t let this worry you. My medium is the written word. I must use it in times like this. While I do struggle with depression, and the fight has intensified greatly recently, the need to express this is a way of channeling the strength to fight it. This, if anything, is a preemptive attack.