I am so tired of living my life in perpetual sadness,

my very essence a pendulum full of potential energy,

waiting for that push of depression to send me 

reeling, swinging back and forth between 

mental breakdowns and forcing myself to 

get it together just long enough so I can go about my day. 
 

It makes me wonder if I am just too 

responsible, too stubborn to admit 

that I am mentally unwell. 

 

But if I'm not, then what do I have to blame for 

always feeling like my world is on the verge of collapse?

Why am I incapable of accepting that the way I feel 

is my fault? 
 

I have done this dance for so long, 

this ghastly, grotesque routine of 

breaking down and forcing myself 

back together, a one person show. 

But the curtain is closing on me 

and the pieces aren't fitting

back together quite right anymore. 
 

All this back and forth is taking a toll on me,

making the journey to and from the brink 

of insanity on a weekly basis, my 

passport running out of pages to mark. 

 

Perhaps, as a cosmic irony,

these breaks are strangely reliable-

the only dependable stability 

being my own instability.

 

But just as there is a limited amount 

of times you can stretch a rubber band, 

it will eventually break, I fear that I too,

will no longer be able to withstand the strain.