Tired
Depression isn't linear
It doesn't follow a pattern or trend
That's easy to see and understand
It hits in places that leave bruises
Under clothes and coverings
That can't be seen without intimacy.
People who haven't experienced it
Will never know what I mean when I say
That suicidal thoughts aren't about craving darkness
Or about wanting to be rid of the world
They're about wanting the light desperately
And wanting the world to be rid of the darkness
That is yourself.
People who haven't experienced it
Will never know what I mean when I say
That depression is to be tired,
To wake up to closed curtains
Blackouts hidden behind
And to feel tears welling in your eyes
Before you've even realised you're awake.
To walk around with the weight of a black cloud
Sitting heavy on your shoulders
Black and coagulated like tar
Darker than the bags under your eyes
That people so love to point out.
To be trying your hardest
And not be able to function as you want
And not enjoy things you should
And not get the grades
Or the girls and boys
And to question what you could possibly
Be contributing to the world anymore.
It's the punch to the gut
When you're told you're not trying
A statement so often used
By people who will never be able
To swim deeper into your mind
Than the rock pools.
But these people used to
Touch the ocean floor
And cradle and study the shells
That lay as part of you on the sand
That now seems to be covered in spilled oil.
Depression is to be tired
To be tired of being told what you are
Tired of fighting yourself
Tired of waking to a world that doesn't want you
Tired of the sun and the moon and the stars
And your toxic mind that won't rest
Unless your bloodstream is 40% ethanol
Or it's 4pm on a Tuesday and you've collapsed
With exhaustion from the 0 calories in your system
Because who wants to eat
When they're tired?
Who wants to walk
When they're tired?
Who wants to talk
To socialise
To love
When they're tired?
Who wants to stay awake
When they're tired?
I was tired.