After a weekend watching one of my favorite series, The Hunger Games, I drafted this poem about my experience with depression.
My Quarter Quell
To Suzanne Collins, thank you.
To you, the reader. May you find solace, peace, and above all else, STRENGTH.
Depression is more than just a day with a case of the "blues," it's a state of living.
I sometimes think of it like the Hunger Games meets Groundhog Day.
It's me vs the tribute from District 1 in a constant battle to see who will win for the day.
He is a well-prepared, deceptive, unforgiving, and overpowering opponent.
A wall of fire engulfing me in all his might, forcing me back into the abyss.
A buried mine that I must tip-toe carefully around so not to set him off.
A tracker jacker sting that, if untreated, can be my demise and his victory.
But most times he's President Snow.
Watching my every move. Confining me. Dictating to me.
Reminding me he has the power to undo everything whenever he so chooses.
Thus, I am at his mercy.
Yes, we have a "mutual" understanding that keeps us from doing too much harm to one another.
But, I know the darkness, the loneliness, the utter hopelessness that resides in him, in me.
And so one day ends, as a new one begins.
Once more, we find ourselves—myself—counting down for the game to begin.
may the odds be ever in MY favor.