F*ck Depression - Traydon Inspires

Fuck depression.

But I love the lesson.

I don’t like suppression—

everything

pressing

against

my soul.

I hear it bold.

I hear its toll:

> stop.

and breathe.

There’s a beauty in the depth

when you’ve been

stripped

& there’s nothing left.

Sometimes I left.

Sometimes I go left

instead of right—

to find myself,

realign myself,

redesign myself.

I redesign my wealth.

I’m feeling myself—

a bit more,

and more,

that pours—

in this body

that keeps score.

More points on the board

while I’m

pointing at my core.

My heart

still beats.

Some days,

it leaks.

Some days,

I take a fucking seat.

Some days,

I feel weak—

but there’s a beacon

in my mind

when I feel weakened.

Some of us

still striving for the weekend—

but fuck depression.

You’ve taken so many away.

And every day

I lay awake.

Every choice I make—

every chance I take

to feel

even a sliver

of happiness.

Happy in moments

where I feel inspired,

where I see the whole empire—

The forest

& the trees,

the leaves

& the weeds,

the roots

that be.

I need—

more stimulation,

more imagination,

more participation

in this story

called life.

Collaboration.

Community.

A unity.

Not a battle anymore—

but a war

that unravels me

so I can see:

I’m beautiful too.

I’m beautiful

when I’m true.

I knew this.

I’m not new to this.

And I refuse

to be anything

but

myself.

So—

fuck you, depression.

But I understand.

And I—

no longer

need you.