lies my depressed brain whispers

to me,

and only I can hear

[but maybe you hear them

too].

You can’t remember

the simple steps.

You fail as a wife,

a daughter, a mother,

a woman.

Your cooking stinks.

You’re an impostor.

It’s your fault you are sick

[yes, even the Lynch Syndrome

& the club foot jazz].

You can’t even control your emotions.

You barely have enough energy

to do the laundry.

You are a waste of space.

You are the cause of the other

people’s problems.

You don’t belong.

You are completely unlovable.

You suck.

You deserving nothing

– including your life.

 

But some days,

I rise above this chatter.

The number of these days

is increasing.

I’m really over these lies

my depressed brain whispers.

I’m showing up to the arena

vulnerable.

But invincible.

Soon,

my worthiness will

no longer

be on the table.

Soon,

I’m going to tell

these lies

[and you, depressed brain]

to fuck off.

 

[In response to the Daily Prompt: Disagree.]

 

 

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6 thoughts on “lies my depressed brain whispers

  1. I don’t want to like this because I don’t want it to seem like I approve of your depressed brain’s lies but I like that you’re being so open and honest

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Pingback: Self Care & the Argument My Depressed Brain Rails Against It | a bliss of birds

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