Drugs

Stuff

Depression is like my drug, the high feeling that I get when I feel so low,

I love it, I hate it, I don't want it and don't need it, but when it comes I don't want to get out.

I indulge myself in it as I try to forget about my hopeless reality.

I am happy enough with myself to survive another day, maybe a week.

I love my family and their efforts, but I don't understand why they keep on trying,

why they don't just give up,

I am no use to them all I cause is grief and war.

I do not want pity from others for I receive it from myself.