Stranger in the Mirror

Stranger in the Mirror

How many of you out there look at your reflection in the mirror and not recognize the person? Maybe it’s the absence of the image of who you wanted to be. Each day, those subtle changes become more noticeable.

The lines running across your face here and there, bags under your eyes from the lack of sleep. Day after day you see the same person who you do not know, this feeling is fostered day in and day out and yet it rests below a boiling surface.

Eventually the spill over occurs and now you’ve let some of your secrets out to those around you and you are viewed now as someone particularly not healthy to be around. I kept it below the surface for over 20 years and I thought I could continue until my final breath.

The cracks slowly grew, revealing more of what lies beneath and it gets to the point where you become and easy person to read.

At age 30 the fight became too much and I was in fear of  spiraling out of control into a state of no return. I still awoke each morning and pushed through each day, they all seemed the same.

Now at 33 I feel no different other than the medications I take help bury some of those feelings, but the scary thing is that they are only suppressed.

I can understand why some take that walk into the sun, its something that I cannot explain in words only those who know depression can relate.

 

Grey 

Grey 

I lay here on the floor next to the fire and feel hollow. It takes grit to make it through the day without saying fuck it. I listen to the popping and crackling of the wood and it seems so simple. I want simple, I look at the overcast sky and the wind sweeps away leaves only to bring more. The pines sway slightly and brush one another, planted so closely together light is scarce under them. Layer upon layer of needle create a hush that can be heard when the wind gusts. I want to fade with the light, a setting sun.

Check out this link to a book, Love Yourself Like Your Life Depends On It.