Poems For Describing Depression

You would never know it,
The constant pain I feel,
Because in the light of day
It almost isn't real.

Sure, I'll play, I'll laugh,
I'll sing some songs,
But that pain is always lurking
Because it's been here all along.

And when the darkness comes
With its all-consuming power,
It slowly takes my soul
Hour by dreadful hour.

But they tell me that I'm strong enough.
They swear that it gets better.
They say, "If you can just hold out
and bear this stormy weather."

They tell me, "You will be happy one day.
All you need do is fight."
But what they seem to forget
Is after each day comes the night.

And so I act along.
I play my part
While this crushing darkness
Slowly breaks my heart.

It's hard to explain those
demons inside,
the daily struggle,
the daily ride.

When will they go?
When will they end
these terrible thoughts
that they send?

They make me
hate myself.
They fill my head
with torture and doubt.

I'm tired of crying,
I'm tired of trying,
I wish I could believe
those demons were lying.

It's a constant battle
between them and me.
I just want to end it all
and be free.

I smile and laugh wildly, having fun with my friends.
They don't know what huge lie I have to pretend.
To my friends, I'm the funny girl who's so full of life.
They don't know how many times I'd held a bloody knife.
To them, I'm the girl who loves to strut down the street.
They don't know that I feel so incomplete.
To my friends, my laughter can spread.
They don't know that inside, my happiness is dead.
To my friends, my smile can brightened up their day.
They don't know I've shut my feelings away.
I'm locked in a prison, one I cannot escape,
A place my soul is repeatedly raped.
In the prison, there is no love, there is no spark.
I'm all alone, tired, desperate, and left in the dark.
In the dark, there is a monster waiting painfully for the kill.
The danger sends out a terrifying chill.
I've faced the monster before, so I know its disguise.
My spirit breaks down further, silently releasing its cries.
I knows it's no one's fault; I'm the one to blame,
Because I'm the only one who's causing myself this pain.

Having depression and anxiety is like being thrown into a raging, surging ocean
When you don't know how to swim.
Meanwhile, the whole world expects you to keep swimming forward,
To keep excelling and moving onward in this thing called life.

But you feel like you're dying.
You're gasping for air.
Every breath is a struggle.
Your feet can't touch the floor.
You feel all alone,
Waves crash over your head and pummel you with water.
You want to give up the fight to stay afloat.

Help comes in the form of pills.
They become your floatation device.
You're no longer relying on sheer willpower to stay alive.
Now at least you won't drown,
But you still don't know how to swim.

Therapy teaches you how to swim.
Soon you are swimming forward again.

Yet even with the best swimming lessons and floaties...
The. Waves. Still. Come.
Bad days still exist and people don't understand.

They assume that you should be all better.
They assume that one bad day means you're relapsing.
You feel ashamed of your bad days,
Like you have to hide them,
But those people just don't understand the journey.

You're still trying to swim forward when waves and currents and rapids are against you.
There's a constant battle going on in your mind.
No wonder you're so tired all the time.
No wonder bad days come sometimes.
Days when getting out of bed is a struggle
And all you want to do is stay under the covers.

But you don't, because the world is waiting for you to show your face.
You choose to get up and take a shower.
You make breakfast and put salt and pepper on your eggs.
You cling to the warmth of your cup of coffee.
You take in the slim amount of theology your brain can handle.
You watch the sun rise and chase the sunset.
You remind yourself who you are.

Bad days still come.
Bad days will come.
But it's different now.
You still feel like you want to die.
You still wish you could.

But Hope's voice is louder,
And Grace's streams run deeper.
Tomorrow might be better.
Tomorrow is already full of new mercies.
Tomorrow there are moments you want to live for.
Sunsets you want to chase,
People you want to hug,
Laughs you want to share and tears you want to cry.
Memories you want to make,
Deep conversations you want to have,
Sand you want to squish between your toes,
Presence you want to live in,
Favorite foods you want to savor and coffee you want to drink.
Pancakes you want to flip,
Music you want to get lost in,
Gifts you want to give,
Love you want to find.

So you choose to keep swimming.
You choose grace.
You choose to remember who you are,
Because brighter days are coming.
His mercies are new every morning.
There are more sunsets to chase,
And someday you will breathe again.

The burning hate,
so severe, everlasting,
the hate you take every day,
that you absorb,
the burning hate that you despise,
the hate.
You hate the tired, the draining exhaustion that burns,
you can't get rid of it, no matter how much rest.
You hate the pent up anger
that you release into the world to handle,
but you don't care,
but deep down under the hate, you do.
You hate the sadness,
almost.
You have too many emotions to tell.
You are alone, no matter how much someone loves you.
You are alone, almost scared.
Almost.
You hate the confusion,
the haze you live behind,
your mind,
a prison.
Every night
you dread the next day,
and what lies ahead.
Sleep heals,
but hardly does it help.
The headache, stomachache, muscle aches,
pain to the bone.
Pain,
inside and out,
merciless, unforgiving,
indescribable.
You forget what it's like to
smile, laugh, be loose, be fun, be social,
be what you used to be.
And what you hate the most
is the stress,
the hair yanking,
indescribable stress.

Depression is oppression.
It's a deadly hidden message
Defined by self-hate.
It seals its prisoner's fate.
It holds you captive and throws out the key.
It stabs and jabs just to see you bleed,
Inflicting wounds that scar for life.
Destruction is its mother and death its wife.

You can cry, but it will always ignore your screams.
It terrorizes your soul and haunts your dreams.
It sends you false hope through a bottle or pill.
It destroys your goals and inflicts its will.
You can't run, nor can you hide.
By its rules you will abide
Until it celebrates that you have died.
Open your eyes, or you will be its prey.
It will blur your vision in the most twisted way.
It will seek your destruction and call for your head.
You will lie and wait but never rest in your bed.

Peace will come to those who want peace,
But as long as you feed him, you will see the beast.
You can't run, nor can you hide,
But if you conquer the beast, you will survive.
Prayer and hope can lead the way.
Cling on to every word you pray.
Hope is in truth.
Hate is in lies.
Pray for your soul and open your eyes.

It is the darkest, deepest place one can travel to alone,
A solo journey filled with struggles and groans.
Every day is a new battle against the same foe,
But the enemy fights back with psychological blows.
It creeps up on you in your most vulnerable state,
Especially when there's no one around who can relate.
Thoughts in your mind begin to swirl and swell,
Which drag you into your own subconscious hell.
Figments and entities from your past
Serve as the pain, which you can't outlast.
Finally sleep always comes as a welcomed friend,
But it the morning the ceaseless battle begins yet again.

Hiding the hurt, hiding the pain,
Hiding the tears that fall like rain.
Saying I'm fine when I'm anything but.
This ache in my soul rips at my gut.
My skin is on fire; I burn from within.
The calm on my face is an ongoing sin.
The world must stay out; I've built up a wall.
My fragile lie will collapse should it ever fall.
Loneliness consumes me; it eats away the years
Until my life is swallowed by unending fears.
Waiting for someone to see I wear a mask
And care enough to remove it; is that too much to ask?

What do you call it when all you feel is pain?
When your loved ones look at you and all you feel is shame?
When you're tired of living and playing this game?
When you know your life is meaningless and you're the only one to blame?

What do you call it when the hurt is in your soul?
When you smile and laugh but you know it's all a show?
When you feel like you've hit your all-time low?
When nothing makes you happy and the darkness around you grows?

What do you call it when you feel so alone?
When you're in your house but it don't feel like home?
When you look back in your life and every choice you made now seems wrong?
When the wait to die seems too long?

I'm feeling broken down, my body aches
My heart, it bleeds from past mistakes
Can't stop the tears; they fall like rain
The words are spinning 'round my brain
So scared and feeling so alone
The coldness fills my every bone
No food, no sleep, can't think at all
Each way I turn, another wall
This darkness haunts my very soul
My world seems dead; I've lost control
The only weapon is my pen
Depression has moved in again

It's like a plague that never goes away,
Or an animal and its prey.
It waits...
And waits...
And waits...until you're ready.
Then closes in and devours you...
From the inside out.
ALL you see is shadows of the ones you once knew.
No more happiness,
No more laughter,
No more love.
It's like a thunderstorm that blocks your soul.
Your soul becomes a black hole.
Whatever said, heard, or learned
Is forgotten, never brought up again,
No longer does anything matter.
It's all darkness,
Like a plague that never goes away.