I don’t want your sympathy as I battle the old black dog
though I’m not sure if you’re aware that I wander through this fog
There are those who understand for shadows stalk them too
they know that dreaded feeling that strikes out of the blue
In my mind I’m never worthy; self-esteem is low
as the light within struggles, just a pathetically feeble glow
No, I can’t just snap out of it as the intolerant urge
It doesn’t have a switch, it is something I must purge
Darkness will settle over me I feel as empty as a tomb
I’m not even sad in this hollow womb
Externally I function, day to day I still get by
live on automatic pilot without the strength to fly
I live here in my solitude untouchable, alone
I seek those who understand who call the same place home
It is a small part of me, does not my life define
a glitch in my makeup, a brush stroke gone awry
Life is about choices; at least this is what I am told
I choose love and warmth not this overwhelming cold
I do not choose depression or invite the black dogs bite
as those who do not live with it seem to think I might
I have learned to control it, to keep it locked up in its cage
though sometimes it defies me and engulfs me in its haze
It is difficult to describe it to one who has not ventured there
think of hollow, empty, numbness mixed in with despair
I do not wallow in it, regardless of what you think
inside it’s a constant struggle to pull back from the brink
If you see somebody struggling, please be tolerant and kind
or at least do not judge them harshly, offer well-meant advice
Remember you too have afflictions, imperfections of your own
rather than judge another it’s best to just leave them alone
Trish Johnston 18th July 2015