It waits for me just underneath the surface, like an alligator catching its prey.
It opens wide and swallows me whole. There's no escaping when it has you in its death-grip.
Now that I have more down time, my depression has come back, or rather, is more noticeable again for it never really leaves.
I can deny and distract it for a bit but it's there....like always.
Being alone and friendless in this city doesn't help either but the sad part is I'm used to that by now.
I've attempted getting lost in my art but being depressed kills a lot of that desire and inspiration.
And yet a part of me wants to claim it. To acknowledge it.
Why lie and hide it?
To express those feelings helps gain control over it. I think.
So with that said, I'm very lonely, withdrawn, find it hard to look at people, and think about dying a lot.
In other words....I'm not happy.