When the fear hits and the thoughts in your head swirl to bring you into and uncontrollable spiral that leaches into your soul and bleaches its essence black. When it sucks the life from your bones, that’s when you fall to your knees and beg for it, beg for it not to come back.
It’s the fear that one day I will wake up and wish I didn’t, that the monster within once again sits on my chest, that in that morning it pulls me from below, the support of the mattress not enough for its greedy hands and sucks me down, sucks me into a form of hell, my own head.
I don’t believe it will do that. I believe it will come at me when I least expect it. When I have the life I have always wanted but am not yet satisfied with the thoughts that run through my head, that slowly every day I will see the negatives of this world. That the cold crisp morning now stings my skin with the ache of a new day, that the laughter that used to sing now rings in my ears in annoyance, that the little snippets of day to day jokes now sit on my chest and my mind, ridiculing the way I look at myself, creeping back into the scars that are forever evident on my body, opening wounds that never properly healed.
You see it won’t be an instant feeling of self-hate, it will be a year-long descent into self-inflicted hell, to my thoughts and to my little prison I once created for myself, one that I did not intend, one that bestowed itself upon my life by chance, certainly not by luck.
It’s as though when it left last time, it waved but smiled, knowing its return would make up for the fight I put up, that the happiness I felt in its wake will be made up by its slow, gradual painful return, that will wrap its dark limbs around my body and its lips around my heart and suck the life from my being, until I am left more useless than ever before. Making the first round seem of somewhat a walk in the park compared to this.
You see I know it will come back, but when I am unaware. Maybe when I have children and responsibilities that lay heavy, when my children are capable of feeling the sting of pain in our home, maybe months after I say “I Do” to a man who is yet to see the destruction I am capable of and make him regret the vows he once meant, or maybe in a week when adolescents still riddle my body in youth and the enjoyment of fresh life clings to the essence of alcohol and innocent behaviour.
For now, all I can do is push the thoughts below, continue to do what I believe will make me happy and fight the demon that once controlled so much of me, for one day I know I will conquer this in its entirety. But tonight when the lack of sleep entwines my limbs and future decisions rest in my tired mind, the fear is there, it’s as raw as ever.
However, I am not a competitive person, so please, depression, I beg of you, don’t come back.