French Toast and Coffee

A short story about battling depression.

            Sometimes it feels like I have a sixth sense when it comes to my depression. Usually I can feel when it’s coming around and even how intense it’s going to be. Sometimes it just wants to come and remind me that it hasn’t gone anywhere and other times it comes to kick a*s.

            That’s how it feels tonight. I can hear it coming like sonic booms and I want to take refuge in a bomb shelter, hide from it until it goes away, before it consumes me, gets into my skull and makes me feel like a zombie or Frankenstein, filled with sadness and self-hate so strong that it steals my soul.

            It jabs at me like antlers, while burning slowly at the same time, attempting to singe any happiness or positivity that remains in my abused soul.

            Tears come to my eyes and I feel sleepy, unsure if that sleepiness is part of the depression, or from me being so exhausted from continuously running, dodging and wrestling with it.

And then it hits me and I feel like a tumbler, doing all sorts of acrobatic acts trying to escape its grasp, but I can’t. It smothers me and I’m too tired to fight with it, so I give in to its initial welcoming presence of creativity, introspection and cleansing, knowing that soon that will give way to torturous thoughts of regret and self-ridicule.

Still, I fight to keep my eyes open as I witness this twilight, knowing that there will soon be zero visibility in the darkness. I tell myself that if I make it through this night without killing myself, in the morning I’ll make French toast and coffee.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Homemade french toast and a good cup of coffee will make a day begin good. I know a few natural cure for body and sadness. A cup of fresh herbal rosemary tea can clean the body and mind. Easy to fall into bad thoughts. When I was mess up over the suicide of my brother' death. I went to college and went deep into writing. A powerful poem. You made me think this early morning.
Coyote