H.T.W.D. (Hard Things We Do)

Yesterday was a hard day.

Katie and I talked about hard things,
some hers
but mostly mine.

I woke up in the morning and knew that leaving the house
would be a hard thing.
And going to class
or to therapy
would be impossible.

I woke up and got in the shower
hoping
it would be another day I could trick myself.

It turned out it wasn't me who needed convincing,
it was my beast.

He dragged me by my hair,
from the bathroom dripping wet
into my bed
into my covers
into unconsciousness.

The day had only begun and I had already given up.
The beast had already given up on me.

I couldn't write yesterday.
I had all of the thoughts, all of the feelings all of the desire
and all of them were impossible.

He has a way of pulling me down, that beast,
down under, deep and away
until I have nothing to remind me
that this is real
this hard
and this is a hard thing I do.

I'm lazy and just don't want to be responsible for anything
I'm a coward and just want to avoid doing hard things
I'm selfish and self-centered
and just don't care about how my actions affect others
I'm weak and just can't do it
I'm a liar and none of this is real

This is it.
This is my everyday.
This is my beast.

It's a hard thing I do, fighting it alone.
Fighting gets hard, and then it becomes impossible.

I can't fight like this anymore.
Not if I ever want to do anything, but fight.

It is the hardest thing I will have done,
to accept that nothing will change
unless I ask for help.