Find the Air

I wanted to vanish, run as fast as I could to get away from the thoughts in my mind that drag me down. But how does one escape from themself? How does one escape from what's factual inside?

This fucking disease that eats away at my inspiration and concentration. I wish I could break it down, bury it, and never think twice again. I'm sick and tired of hearing the remarks that spew forward about clinical depression being nothing more than a call for attention. That's bullshit. I don't need your attention, no more than I would require normally. Read a book, and yes...take note that I'm angry. I'm very angry.

I'm angry with the intolerance. Don't you understand that I'd love to go out and conquer the world? I haven't been given the opportunity. I seek them out. I look for what I want, and when I find it, it never wants me. Jobs upon jobs that I've been rejected for. Is it that no one takes a chance? I don't think what I'm dealing with flashes in my eyes, across my forehead. I'm capable of living. I push myself to thrive.

Screw you for not wanting to know more, for not wanting to understand. Don't tell me that you get it if you're going to sigh and roll your eyes when I hang up the phone. Don't tell me that you understand when you're lying through your teeth. I don't need that kind of understanding. I don't need you to try to battle me.

Why in the hell would you want to be worse off? If your problems are more important, if they trivialize my life, then so be it. You can be the winner of the worst. Contrary to the belief of some, I don't want that "honor." I don't want this.

So, I keep on going. I'm waiting for my break. I'm waiting for the sun to shine for more than thirty minutes, but you bet your ass if thirty minutes is all I can get, I'll take it. I do like happiness. I do crave happiness. Contentment is something that I seek everyday, you see. I'm trying. I never stop trying, even when it's all so thick, I can barely breathe.