And I am at my worst.

Where as previously the nature of my depression would beg in anguish for someone to save us, it has now given up. My depression, now a discrete and discernible entity inside the four walls of my body, longs for the absence of love. On both knees it clings to the ankles of my life, asking for the departure of all light so that it may find solace in the justification of its own existence. So that we may both slip quietly out the backdoor. 

Without word. 

Without notice. 

The lack of reason amplifies the pain; makes it loud upon my ears. Dampens all other sounds. Brings an awareness of the now desperately beating cardiac muscle in that same cavernous space.

The lack of reason awakens another beast. 

A

  n

    x

      i

       e

          t

            y. 

And I imagine them at war with each other. I imagine my anxiety and my depression like monsters; cold and massive bodies covered in dark green scales, towering above the concrete giants of the city. Snapping jaws and sharp teeth and long white claws tearing into each other, fighting for control of my body. 

And I am helpless. I am left watching. Waiting. All I can do is sit, frozen, staring at this computer screen while they fight their bloody fight. Hoping that they will destroy each other in the battle.