Some days, my depression is a crashing wave of defeat.
It tries to pull me under and hold me down, and some days, it succeeds.
Other days, most days actually, my depression is a constant static.
The static rests in the back of my mind, a constant reminder of all the things I am not.
It crackles in my ears, whispering words that I become certain others say and think.
Some days, I almost believe the static is worse than the wave, because it's constantly there.
Constantly there to belittle me, harm me, and mutter it's harsh words.
And that seems endless, no matter what meds I take or what therapy I try, it's always there.
The static seems to have no end.