Depression is a Beast

I feel depressed today.

It’s on and off, but it’s like a beast feeding on me. Sucking the life out of my motivation, creativity, and heart.

I feel voiceless today.

Like the things I do, write, express, and feel are pointless. I wonder why my soul chose this f*cking planet at times. It’s dense. Heavy. Sad.

I hear my own self say, “You can do this. Your voice matters. Your creativity matters.” And then the beast comes back to tell me, “But, no one follows you, likes you, or reads your stuff. You can’t express in your relationships.”

The beast is ugly and brutal. He feeds on my fears and amps them till its a noise I can’t escape.

My relationships mirror my beast. They mirror, “Don’t express yourself, you’re wrong. Don’t speak up for yourself. Don’t tell the world your feelings, because you’re not going to be heard.”

The Beast is brutal.

Just writing this out, makes me feel I’m pushing the beast back. I’ve lived with him before. He eats at me. He hurts me. He tells me I’m unlovable, unworthy, and voiceless. I shout at him, and he drowns out my voice with his.

But, the beast is only as big as I let him be. 

I want to express in my relationships and feel free to be myself. I will not let the beast push me back into my past. I will not be a voiceless wife who couldn’t express her pain to the world. I will not be that girl.

I will f*cking slay this mother f*ucking beast. I don’t care how. 

I am a voice. I am a valuable soul. I don’t give a sh*t if my stuff is ignored. I hear it. I am the one who should be hearing it the loudest.

I am now the beast. I can hear her roar. She’s so strong and courageous and full of power. She is a roaring waterfall, drowning out the noise of the first beast. She’s beautiful, a warrior, an Atlantian Princess.

You are too.

F*cking slay your beast.

Don’t let him control you.

Be the voice that shuts up that f*cking thing.

You are the only one who can.

hand for help on the mountain