Fighting Depression

My depression sometimes arrives in the morning when I start to wake. I know it's there because it grabs me with its cold clammy fingers as I reach for the light, and it pulls me back into it's desperate shadows. As my mind awakens, I feel the dread of pain, instead of the hope of a fresh start. I know what's coming when the morning begins this way.

I will fight it. I will not sink. The summer has been too bright and comforting to succumb to this old pain the ass. I will rise. I will write. I will do.