I am angry, so very angry.
I cannot fix this, fix you.
I weep, bitterly.
You want to die.
You say that your life is a failure, no longer worth living.
You want it all to end.
You say you see the irony, that I,
I, try so hard to live and you,
you want so much to die.
You say your life is pointless,
That you get nothing out of it,
And you might as well be dead.
You say you will work out how to do it soon.
And you are very sorry.
But you really want to die.
WELL GO AHEAD THEN!
I scream in my head, these words we must not even think.
I cannnot stop you.
But do you think its only you?
Did you think we wouldn’t care, that you wouldn’t matter?
I am so tired of this dance.
Are you waiting for me to rescue you?
Do you think I can save you?
Catch you when you call?
I fall with you, do you not know that?
But I am I, and I am not finished here.
And I will rise.
As you tumble once more into the abyss,
My fingers grip the edge of the yawning chasm
And inch by cursed inch, I rise.
But you are not really done, are you?
You think you want death, and yet
You are not ready to die.
Your own strong legs land you.
Your face turns once more to the sunlight
As arm goes over bloodied arm, upwards.
“I believe in Angels
Something good in everything I see”
I believe in you.
Why isn’t that enough?
My husband was diagnosed with severe depression earlier this year after two breakdowns and a suicide attempt. He is currently suffering another major depressive episode. We don’t live together but he remains an important part of my world, he is loved and we all want him well.