Explaining my depression to my mother, A CONVERSATION

Mom my depression is a shapeshifter one day it's a small as a firefly in the palm of a bear The Next it's the BEAR on those days i play dead until the bear leaves me alone

I call the bad days "The dark days"

Mom says "Try lighting candles" but when I see a candle, I see the flesh of a church

the flicker of a flame sparks of a memory younger then noon I am standing beside her open casket it is the moment I learn every person i ever came to know will someday DIE!

Besides mom I'm not afraid of the dark perhaps that's part of the problem

Mom says " I thought the problem was that you can't get out of bed" I CAN'T!!

I can't, anxiety holds me a hostage inside....

of my house, inside of my head

Mom says " Where did anxiety come from?"

Anxiety is the cousin visiting from out of town that depression felt obligated to invite to the party MOM, I AM THE PARTY!!!

Only I am a party i don't want to be at!

Mom says "why don't you try going to actual parties... see your friends"

Sure i make plans,

I make plans, but i don't wanna go

I make plans because I know i should want to go; i know... sometimes I would have wanted to go

It's just not that fun having fun when you don't want to have fun, Mom

You see, mom, each night insomnia sweeps me up in his arms, dips me in the kitchen in the small glow of the stove-light

Insomnia has this romantic way of making the moon feel like perfect company

To be continued...