Endless Refills of Despair

Depression tears chunks off me with every breath. If I could just have a day without it, that would be a blessing indeed. But I don't believe in blessings. I'm in charge of my life and I have a brain that works the way it does and maybe I'll never be able to feel anything different. How I dread the opening of my eyes to a new day. How I long for the release of sleep, I stalk the clock for the time when I can escape to my bed. It hurts. I hurt. And I cannot escape it, just feel. I've made myself willing to feel but it seems it's a bottomless pit , a relentlessly free refill of despair. I thought I had struck a bargain , that I could let myself go through all the feelings dwelling inside, there's so many, is it that I banned them from me for too long that they fight back with such vigorous vengeance. I choke with them, they strike, I flail in helplessness. Thoughts shriek in and out of sensing, me reeling as if from a blow. But they are blows and I feel them yet no one is there, no one strikes me. My psyche strikes me. The beauty of my surroundings eludes appreciation. This invisible war ravages on.