You Have to Fight 

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

And loneliness,

Making you wish for release, 

Making you think about knives

And wrists,

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.

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