A Quiet Kind of Mayhem

The real mayhem isn’t that I’m always acting “crazy.” This insidious darkness is craftier than that. Sometimes I feel perfectly fine; much of the time it “merely” saps my day to day energy, like a leech that no one can see, or a leak that no one ascertains. It most often manifests as what looks like laziness to those around me. Part of me believes I really am that lazy, pathetic person, that I’m just blaming the depression for a problem it’s not causing. If they could see my thoughts, though… maybe they would understand. I’ve tried to speak, have also taken actions but they’ve come to nothing. I’ve tried to fight thoughts but it’s like a war which I win if I just don’t surrender, but when you’ve been at it day after day for half your life, with no end in sight, all you want to do is raise that white flag.

Sat down at my computer keyboard and this is what came up. I’m fine as far as actions are concerned (the bar is set REALLY low), but the thoughts are loud tonight.

woman behind the plastic
Photo by Ron Lach on Pexels.com

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