The skies are grey and dark.
Rain comes down hard.
Depression comes down harder.
I ran out of one medication.
And it’s a long drive to get it.
I’ve been too depressed.
Plus it has some side effects.
So I’ve been bad about taking it.
Tomorrow is day one,
of a seven day stretch at work.
This is when I am vulnerable.
This is when I want to cut myself.
I’ll be fighting strong cravings.
Early in the morning.
Alone. In the dark pouring rain.
I’ve got an anti anxiety pill.
It will help me some.
But tomorrow will be a hard day.
I have a mantra for these days.
At least I’m not in Nevada.
You see I took a job once.
Working at a gold mine.
In Nevada.
But Oregon is my home.
Away from family, I was homesick.
I was very, very homesick.
So I drank heavily, and smoked.
And hated the people I was with.
Until the day that I finally quit.
So even though I’m depressed.
And even though it will be hard.
I’ll try to remind myself over and over.
At least I’m not in Nevada.
At least I come home to my family.
To my wife and kids and pets.
Depression doesn’t always listen.
But I can always try and make it.
And I’ll pick up my pills tomorrow.
Poetry
Likes
1220 Views
Share: