Depression: A poem

Normally I try to shy away from harsh language, but this is the most literal translation I can give regarding my feelings right now.

Fuck you depression.

Fuck you for making me sit here like a goddamn leper, shunning myself from my family and the only time I should be happy during the day.

Fuck you for making me paranoid and unwilling to take any modicum of risk out of delusional fear.

Fuck you for always telling me how horrible I am, even in the middle of trying to better myself.

Fuck you for making me feel so alone in the world, and like everyone is staring and pointing and laughing at me for being such a fucking loser.

Fuck you for ruining perfectly good nights because I can’t control my feelings.

Fuck you for never letting go no matter how hard I try.

Fuck you for trying to destroy the good things I have, and then making me feel shittier for being such a horrible wife/mother/friend.

Fuck you for always having the last laugh, on or off medication.

Fuck you for filling me with doubt and fear and hate.

Fuck you for making me never see the positive, only the negative, always the negative.

Fuck you for being sneaky enough to let me appear normal.

Fuck you for constantly reminding me I’m not.

Fuck you for keeping me lazy and fat and stupid and ugly and unmotivated and jealous and angry.

Fuck you for blaming everything on me, always on me.

Fuck you for making an impossible situation harder.

Fuck you for never letting me think things are going to get better or go right, ever.

Fuck you for robbing me of the words I want to use but can’t think of, because it hurts too much to think.

Fuck you for confusing this with actual grief and never knowing if I’m progressing or regressing.

Fuck you for allowing me to ponder all the different ways there are to kill myself.

Fuck you for making me too chicken shit to try.

Fuck you for all the shit you do to me, to my family.

Fuck you.