I open my eyes warily each day wondering whether I’ll be looking up from the bottom of a hole
Or if the hole will be looking up at me.
As the days grow shorter, it feels like a race against time, nothing can hold back the darkness,
The light is disappearing from my view.
When will I ever conquer this cycle? Will it continually rule and ruin my life so that one day, it will win,
And I will give in to the dark?
Will I wake up from the bottom and say, " I just can’t keep climbing back up only to find myself back at the bottom again."
And the pills, will be there whispering,
Open your hand, open your mouth. Swallow us all and you’ll end this never ending cycle of blackness and despair.
But what about my children?
What about the man who for sixteen years has seen me through all the attempts and the black dark holes and held my hand
Helping me climb back out?
If ever there was a reason to make me go on, it is the three of them, because surely, surely without them,
There is no reason to try.
The black hole opens its gaping mouth and I am falling in as sure as the leaves are changing, as sure as the words are on the page,
And I will cry and rant and be useless,
But I will fight and try to hide the darkest of my thoughts from them, and ask that my pills be hidden from me,
so I can’t hear them call,
I am finally out and the pills no longer call to me.
Damn that black hole. Damn the pills. Damn the voices. Damn the sadness. Damn the burden I will become.