Seeing Life Through Black Colored Glasses

I’ve had to relearn how to live,
That’s what I was given with the gift of depression.
I had to recognize that I am not whole,
And I had to learn from what I’ve been through before.
I learned that I have faults and weaknesses,
And that I seem to struggle with the simple things.
That getting out of bed is a battle instead,
Of being the opportunity I wished I saw.
That the ability to speak is something I once did not reach,
When I was too busy grinding my teeth.
That social interactions are a cause for reaction,
In the form of sweat and anxiety and a wish to retreat.
That eating was an evil necessity,
And I wished that it was not needed regularly.
That hope is something I crave,
But also something I haven’t seen in many days.
I had to relearn how to be awake,
And that there are mistakes I might make.
I had to teach myself how to speak,
Despite the constant worry that I keep,
Telling me that I should first think,
Through every possibility and all that I could be,
Before I decide what to see.
I had to grow in ways that I had previously denied,
And I had to prove to myself that I am willing to try,
To save this mind from the infecting thoughts that are unkind.
I had to learn to be positive,
Since it was not my first reflexive,
Reaction to the trials I endure,
And the person I ensure,
Myself to be,
In this fucked up version of reality.
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