this is everything i didn't say

sixty-six

day one:

 flying, on top of the world, ecstatic, neon, overflowing, colorful, genuine, nothing-could-ever-be-better-than-this

 the downpour after the drought, raindrops mixed with sugar, sunshine flowing through my bloodstream, and the rainbow that comes after

 but the rainbow doesn't stay

 day two:

 crashing, buried alive, the feeling of falling apart, greyed out, empty, blank, fake, how-could-i-ever-believe-it'd-stay

 the scorching heat after the downpour, sunlight mixed with acid, blood running cold and stale, and the rainbow has burnt out to nothing

 ...

 everything in the in-between is wrong and fake and a lie and that is why none of us ever want recovery, because to us it seems that recovery is a permanent state of  e m p t y  and we'd rather feel pain than nothing at all

 but once you feel genuine happiness, suddenly everything that was black and white comes to life again and you're soaring soaring soaring can't ever come back down and the ground seems so far away and you swear you could live inside this feeling for the rest of your days because it's all so real

 but that's the thing with depression. it doesn't care if you've finally decided to get better, doesn't care how much you realize you've missed real happiness

 because in the absence of the moment, it takes the opportunity to return

 and suddenly you're falling and hitting the ground hard and every mistake makes you want to cry a thousand tears and all the time you spent convincing yourself you were good enough to deserve happiness is down the drain, in the gutter, flushed

 and that's why we stop trying. because trust me, we've tried our hardest, but as soon as we think we're free we realize all we've been doing is looking at our cage a different way and we're still as trapped as we ever were

greyed out neon//k.