The Dark Beast

A lonely tear
"I'm sorry, momma,"
the teenager whispers
before the dark beast
hands her a bottle of pills.

A choking despair
"I'm sorry, momma,"
the distraught man mutters
before the dark beast
shoots his wife and himself.

A gasp for air
"I'm sorry, momma,"
the young child cries
before the dark beast
drowns her in the bath.

A loss of self
"I'm sorry, momma,"
the young businessman says
before the dark beast
pushes him off the ledge.

The dark beast lurks
in neuron shadows and sparks
with lies to steal lives...
An enemy no one can flee.

I wrote this poem about depression after reading the story of a woman who drowned her children while suffering from the condition. As someone who has lived with depression, I understand how depression alters a person's thinking. In a severe depression, life can be viewed as a curse. It's a difficult subject, but depression can cause feelings of homicide towards loved ones in a warped attempt to save the loved ones from having to face the cruelty of life.

The most heartbreaking element of the story was that the child's last words while his mother was trying to drown him were, "I'm sorry." Reading the story made me angry at the illness of depression and that no one protected those children.

Clinical depression is a biological illness that has destroyed so many lives. People's misconceptions about depression can make things even more difficult on those who suffer from the condition. No one would tell someone with diabetes to "snap out of it" and expect them to stop having diabetes, but people do it to those who are clinically depressed all the time.

Like many illnesses, depression is hereditary. I have a family history of depression. My great grandmother was known to sit alone in a dark room for days at a time. As horrible as a family history of depression is, I'm lucky to have family members who understand the condition. With their help, I've been able to protect my children and myself from becoming casualties of depression.

I made up my mind years ago never to take my own life. Whenever I feel overwhelmed by the depression and suicidal thoughts, I go to the hospital. I encourage others to make a commitment to themselves to do the same and not to fall for the lies that the dark beast of depression tells.

The lies are very convincing while someone is in a depressed episode. The dark beast will say things like:

"The pain never stops."

"I don't deserve to live."

"Life isn't worth dealing with the pain."

"I don't matter."

"Everyone just hurts me."

The key to my fight with depression has been to remind myself that these are the lies of the beast. Depression distorts the thinking and makes everything look hopeless. For those who suffer from depression, get angry at the illness and get help to fight it. The depression makes it difficult to accept that there are better times ahead. That's why it's important to rely others and even hospitals when necessary to help fight the depression's lies that are so easy to believe when depressed.

If you or someone you know is in danger of committing suicide, please call 911, the local crisis intervention agency, or a national suicide prevention hotline such as 1-800-273-TALK (8255).

(The photo is an acrylic painting I made.)