Three Years and Some Days

Three years and some days have passed

Since everything was gone.

My life.

Myself.

My identity.

Three years and some days since

Life seemed less like it wanted to be lived

And more like a burden

Of routizined tasks

Called motherhood.

The biggest cruelty of depression

Is not that it makes you sad

But that it robs you of joy

And leaves you feeling

Like joy never even existed.

Scared to be outside

Scared that the walls are closing in.

Paralyzed by living

Terrified of thoughts of dying.

Being so surrounded

And feeling desperately alone.

My life didn't end.

Thank god.

I get to live

And love

And be

In all these spacious ways

That take my breath away.