74

Behind the mask

A poem about depression

People sometimes ask me why I feel this way

And for the life of me I can never think of what to say.

It can be mistaken for a feeling of sadness, but this couldn’t be less true,

Although, don’t get me wrong, I can feel sad too.

I can even feel streaks of happiness run through my mind

But it’s always the clarity I can never seem to find.

Like an emotionless fog running through my head space,

Always keeping me in exactly the same place,

An intense crippling timeless dimension

Where everything I do requires constant attention.

It sounds crazy, but the biggest struggle for me is getting out of bed –

It’s never out of laziness; it’s pure dread for the day ahead.

An ongoing battle which continuously waits at my feet,

The same one as yesterday I crawled my way through to defeat.

The only escape I encounter is when I’m sleeping

Yet so often I still feel the depression slowly creep in.

I can occasionally be persuaded to venture out for a walk

But I pray I don’t bump into anyone and have to talk.

Sometimes I catch familiar faces I haven’t seen in a while

But I never set loose the truth, I just stand there and smile.

I do wonder if they can ever tell,

Then again I know my mask hides me well. 75

My home is now my safe place; I feel somewhat secure.

Nowadays I never really feel curious as to what’s outside the door.

I don’t seem to hold a connection to the world anymore…

When I am in my moments of darkness

I always remember that time moves on regardless.

I know this present moment won’t last after today

And maybe, just maybe, one day I will feel okay.