BY ROPE OR BY FEAR

A lot that comes with life, a lot that comes with running from ourselves. I have been running from myself, wanting to leave, wanting the best, wanting to move. But then they said to me, "Shall a man run from himself?" I looked up and said to them, "It's a myth." And then, with a smile, they said, "You can't run from yourself." I shook my head and said, "How can't I run from myself to save myself from myself?" Then they began to laugh, laughing at me. I bowed in shame and confusion. Then they said, "There's a way to save yourself with yourself, by yourself." So I raised my head, looked at their faces, and said to them, "You don't understand. I am running from myself to run from her. She haunts me each day. I can't sleep. She took my sleep. What do you think gave me insomnia? You think it came like a thief?" Then they said, "Who is she? And what does she want?" Now I laugh at them more, as I laugh at myself. Then I looked into their eyes and said, "Depression," with a faint smile. Now I asked them, "Why shouldn't I run from myself when she has taken away all that I feel, all that I know? She has taken control of myself, and I have fought to save myself from her, times I can't remember. But she keeps coming back stronger than the last. Her defense, I admire." I smiled and asked, "Do we ever get over depression?" They looked in silence, with nothing to say, exactly what I expected. Then they said, after so much silence, "Why didn't you ask for help?" Not surprised, not perplexed by their question. It's what everyone asks you when you fight her. So I said, "Sometimes the world is a circle. I looked for help by myself and within myself, fighting someone I couldn't see. I knew what she hated was my happiness. So, to take a break from her, I pretended to be happy. You know the saying, 'Fake it till you make it' so I began to fake happiness maybe eventually I would forget I was faking and she would let me go, I thought it would scare her. So, from different parties to drinking, to long conversations with people, I just never wanted to be alone. That was her favorite time to play with me when I am all by myself. So, running from things she knew to control, to numbness of my body. I smiled this time with so much pain, then I said, "you know what, it didn't help. Instead, it made me worse. It drew me closer to her. She became my comforter, somebody I needed to fight. She knew how to get me, and she did. "Then I ran for refuge in the rope I had tied unto my brown ceiling fan. I picked a chair, then right under the fan, I wrap the rope around my neck with regrets running through my mind. I was ready to lose the battle, ready to let her win. I mean, it was all she wanted. But then I thought, thought of those that loved me, thought of the pains they'd face, thought of how winning her would feel if I could just give myself another chance, another chance to win our fight. So, I let myself loose with tears in my eyes. Immediately, they asked, "why didn't you tell anyone? They could've helped?" I looked away from them to my coffee I had barely even touched, took a sip, and replied, "I knew I needed help from someone. I knew I did. I knew I couldn't fight her myself, but I feared to ask for help. I feared to reach out. I feared what people would say. I feared the stigma. I feared being a burden to those I love. But would you blame me?" I asked them, as they looked at me in pity. It's one thing I didn't like, but would you blame me? So they asked, "would you rather die by ropes and fear than seek help?" I bowed in silence, entangled by fear and confusion, so I asked, "won't the stigma kill faster than the ropes?" So, they looked at me, smiled, and said, “how would you know if you don’t try?