Just as you think that you’re strong and
Can manage most things that life sends at you
You find that you are, in fact,
As easily shattered as the thinnest glass –
Exploding into millions of jagged fractures
Shards that can’t be easily or ever
Reunited as one.
Just as you’re sure that you are the pilot
Of your own vessel,
That you have chartered your course,
And can, as the woman steering this ship,
Manage whatever waves nature sends to topple you,
You find that your mighty boat
Is actually the Titanic
And as seaworthy
As a leaky tub.
There is no guidance for a doomed voyage,
Other than fleeing the ship.
Just as you’re sure that Depression,
That black-hooded evil son of a bitch,
With his pervasive voice that always manages to seep deep into your psyche
Telling you absolutely everything you’ve never
Wanted to hear,
Flashing pictures of your failures,
Your moments of awkwardness
Making you wish for release,
Making you think about knives
Cars and abutments,
Bridges and the desire to fly…
You start to fight.
You fill your mind with images of
Punching that fucker right in the face,
Scratching and clawing,
Kicking and thumping,
Treating him to a lifetime of comeuppance
For years of his conscienceless abuse.
You remember that you are one bad ass motherfucker
And you can be a crazy ninja,
Killing all who attempt to derail you,
Like that asshole Depression.
Just when you were about to give up and give in,
You reclaim your own life,
Your own sanity,
And choose anger over despair,
Choose to fight instead of flailing in the quicksand.
You choose your own Self. Just then.