I think people who have never experienced depression or struggled with the decision to take their own life – people who have never sat with a loved one listing every reason they have to be alive, every person that loves them dearly, and walked away wondering if they would still be there when you got back – don’t understand. They don’t understand that while for them death is a tragic, terrible thing to be avoided, never discussed, and mourned, for those with depression it is nothing less than freedom. It is a promise that the pain you feel every moment of every day can end. The only answer to – how do I make it stop?
Forever I look forward to the day
Remembering hurts enough to let go
Maybe mine’s now
Eternally awaiting at the end of breath