Distorted images in a darkening sky

On the horizon a storm is arising,
Throwing hazy mists before it,
Shading my vision of this world,
Turning all before me into hues of sooty white, Thunder screams at me to warn of my impending hibernation, Lightening flashes, scorching my eyes,
I wander in blindness,
As above me, the midday sky turns black, Smothered by the damp atmosphere that engulfs my existence, To drown my will to resist my stupefying numbness,
I sit waiting for the tempest to pass, Black clouds coming down to taunt me,
And claw at my sodden skin,
Electricity explodes around me,
Revealing the earthly flesh beneath its grassy skin, Rivers of water run blood red as it falls,
Trees I stumble past grasp at my wet and torn fabrics, Thorns thrown, tear and pull at my flesh,
Wet with precipitation or the cold clammy sweat of fear, Metallic saliva fill my silently screaming mouth,
And in this wooded glade, I once sat and contemplated, Now dark and comfortless,
Terror surrounds, no longer wonder and beauty,
But still I run, from what I know not,
A crashing behind me unseen,
A low booming growl, felt in my chest before my ears, Following me, a heat haze of distorted images,
Below this ever darkening sky,
As its foot falls shake the earth beneath my feet,
I hide away until this storm passes,
I lay my head to sleep,
And dream of sweeter times,
To awake again when spring returns,
And the sun will shine again.

This is basically describing life while self medicating deep depression, and trying desperately to ‘Pull yourself together’ .

A piece of advice give to us, by those who refused to acknowledge that depression is more than just feeling a little glum. Its the reason that so many of us torment ourselves with our imagined short comings in silence. I feel no shame to admit I suffer from depression, or the fact that I am a recovering alcoholic. We should never feel ashamed of our addictions or mental illness, we maybe broken, but with a little more understanding we can be fixed.

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