Weakness Poem by Kim Jones

I know where I have been
I know the sorrow people look at coldly and clinically
I know that no one but those who have been there understand it
It is a place
This forsaken island is built out of fear and hurt
It is purely suffering that is relived and re-felt every day
It is a state of mind,
but not only that,
it is an addiction
You stay there so long that not even dreams will help
You say that sadness and death is your friend
But he is always your enemy
You build walls
You build fake smiles:
some do it to be noble,
some because they are afraid
The pain racks you,
It feels like a heart attack
It is an addiction because once you are there
you never want to leave
There are two ways to make it hurt less,
One, there's insanity:
You forget who you are, how to feel, and ultimately, what troubles you,
And two, there's death
Some know they can't do it themselves,
so they turn to others,
and some have been on the island so long
They just don't care anymore
I know because I've been there
and I'm alive because I got out.

Depression is an addiction
It is also a weakness, but only if you let it get that far.
I hope to never let myself become weak again.