Lost Between Versions of Me

I don't remember when the darkness became normal.

​It didn't happen all at once,

​It slowly moved in, 

and before I realized it,

it felt like home.

Some days I laugh, 

but inside I still feel empty.

Some days I cry,

and I don't even know why.

It's hard to explain 

how you can feel everything 

and nothing 

at the same time.

​People tell me to be positive,

to think happy thoughts,

to get outside.

If it were that simple, 

I would have done it already.

Every day feels like carrying a weight

that no one else can see.

Even the smallest things 

can feel impossible. 

getting out bed,

brushing hair,

answering a message,

those are victories

that most people never notice. 

I'm still searching for pieces of myself 

that depression tried to convince me I'd lost.

Some days I find them.

Some days I don't.

But every morning I wake up

is another day 

I chose to keep going,

My pain doesn't clock out.

​It doesn't take weekends, 

holidays, 

or vacations.

It follows me everywhere, 

like a shadow 

I never asked for.

People see the smile, 

not the effort it took to wear it. 

​They hear me say, 

"I'm okay,"

because I'm tired of explaining

something they can't see. 

Pain has taught me patience 

I never wanted to learn.

It has changed my plans,

stolen my sleep, 

and introduced meme to a loneliness 

that is hard to describe.

I miss the version of me 

who didn't have to think

before standing, 

walking, 

or making plans.

I miss moving without fear 

of paying for it later

Still, 

​I keep showing up.

Not because I'm fearless, but because giving would mean letting pain

decide who I am.

I am hurting, 

but I am also healing.

I am tired,

And even on the days

when my body feels like it's fighting against me, 

​I remind myself 

that I am more