My mind is trying to destroy me.
I need to get better.

I have to pick myself up,
But its getting harder and harder.
My mind is fighting me,
And I am trying to be stronger.

I once wrote a poem about a boxer.
Boxing. Dancing with depression.
I want to go back to that time.

I just want to go back to the time
When rhymes came easy.
When Prozac and Zyprexa
Wasn’t in my blood stream.

I want to get through the screams
Of blood trickling down my wrists.
I just want to get better.
Be better then this.

My mind is trying to destroy me.
And my headphones are almost dead.
I listen to these motivational speakers.
They tell me to do better.

I wish I could.
I wish I loved life.
I wish I respected the blood in my veins.
I don’t want to be depressed.

I want to dance with depression.
Not mosh with it.
Maybe I need to kick my depressions ass.

So many rounds, pills, sleep, repeat.
I need to get better from this.
I wish I could.
I miss my friends who have passed.
I don’t want to make my friends alive miss me.

Death is not an option.
I am stronger then this feeling.
My life has a meaning.
If only to be a menace.
If only to dance through this depression
Live life with a vengeance.
And all that other shit I mention
Is regression, I am getting through this.
Without exception.
I am stronger than you can ever imagine.
I have passion. And I run faster.
I lift mental weights, and I am stronger.
I dance with my depression, I lead.
I won’t be a statistic, another person
Sniped out by their minds,
Who wants to cry out, and let the demons out.
Say fuck it, and fight.
Not tonight. Nope, drink Chamomile tea,
Take those fucking pills,
Sleep well, get eight damn hours.
Fight!
Fight!
Fuck this feeling.
My life has meaning.
I am strong.
I am going to beat down this depression
Till we are bloody, and messy in the ring.
TKO….No motherfucker.
You are out. Not me.
I am going to survive.
The darkness around me, is lightening.
Write light lightning.
Till I find that I am worth fighting.
I am awesome.
I got this.
When I write. Depression, You are my bitch.
Afterwords, you can fight me again.
But I will get back in the ring.
Again.
Again.
And again.
Till there is no longer ink in this pen.

 

Jason Wright is the editor and founder of Oddball Magazine. His column appears weekly.