My Depression

My depression is not sad songs ruining my day.
My depression is not sitting alone in a corner of a crowded room.
It’s not long sleeves to hide the scars, at least not anymore,
Or walking slowly in the pouring rain so that the rain “masks my tears”. 
My depression is not the romanticized, cliché plaything
That people fantasize about.
No.
My depression is a monster,
Stalking me from the shadows,
Waiting for the perfect moment
To wrap its icy talons around my throat.
It’s planning a whole day of productivity,
Only to realize it’s 12 a.m.
And I’ve been sitting in the same spot for ten hours.
It’s a headache that doesn’t go away,
Even after the maximum dose of ibuprofen.
My depression is a friendly face
When I see nothing familiar around.
It’s a basket full of dirty laundry because I couldn’t find the simple motivation to put it in the wash.
It’s a toothache because I honestly can’t remember the last time I brushed my teeth.
It’s knowing every single line to my favorite TV shows because most days that’s all I can bring myself to do.
My depression is missing my dad, my brother and my grandfather so much it hurts, but not having the mental strength to pick up the phone and call.
It’s exhausting, both mentally and physically.
It’s lying in bed with windows blacked out because the sun is too bright and I went to bed three hours before it came up.
My depression is not a beautifully tragic piece of art.
It’s a vile, disgusting beast that is never satisfied. 
It’s unanswered calls and messages left on “read”.
It’s crying, alone and naked, on the shower floor at 3 a.m. because the water feels like home.
My depression is bloodshot eyes and a sore throat from crying for hours on end
It’s wanting company, but at the same time to be isolated.
My depression is not cute.
It is not trendy or magical or “in style”.
It’s a demon that I fight to control.
Every.
Single.
Day.
Sometimes it lays dormant for weeks.
But just when I think I’ve reached the top,
My depression is the rock that gives way underfoot and sends me crashing back to the bottom.
Depression is a cruel, wicked beast.
Don’t let the smiles and laughter fool you, darling.
Depression doesn’t hide on the surface.
It hides deep within and only a caring heart can help keep it at bay.