By 8am on Sunday morning I’m curled into a corner between the cabinet and the wall. Depression is a real mother-fucker that way. I woke to it already hovering over me. A thickness in the air. A pressure. A density. I got up and walked the dog. Maybe I could shake it off. It followed me out the door.
Uneasy like Sunday morning...
Uneasy like Sunday morning...
Uneasy like Sunday morning...
By 8am on Sunday morning I’m curled into a corner between the cabinet and the wall. Depression is a real mother-fucker that way. I woke to it already hovering over me. A thickness in the air. A pressure. A density. I got up and walked the dog. Maybe I could shake it off. It followed me out the door.