It gets to the point when you can't watch zombie movies anymore:
Jesse Eisenberg jumps out from behind a red rusted truck
fires his gun
and you grimace. Turn away. Eyes to the wall.
(you feel for him, sympathise, you really do
remember when he played mark zuckerberg all nerves and tension and things screwed up
eyes mouth life
but in this one he's the hero, and instead of constantly shooting
himself
in the foot
he's shooting shambling creatures dull to the world
walking through a world of grey all grey unblinking unseeing unthinking unfeeling
you know them well)

Sometimes the intensity of it makes you want to laugh.
There's been no trauma. No murder. No personal tragedy
No disease so disastrous that it leaves you shaking and swollen and bent
(you find yourself curled up on your bathroom floor anyway
water cascading down over your hunched red shoulders
loud enough that no one hears you cry and if you shut your eyes
you can pretend you don't hear it either)

The things you loved have lost their shape;
you feel like an amnesiac. (Fresh from a course of electroshock therapy.)
Yes dear, you love those. You enjoy this. You like that.
These are your friends who you knew since your childhood
You love them, I swear. You've said it often yourself
You repeat these words until you're not sure whether you still feel things
or you just tell yourself you do

(its rabies. it must be rabies. why else
would you lash out and hurt those you remember adoring
leave me alone leave me alone leave me ALONE
i love you you say but i simply can't stand you
frankly my dear i don't give a damn
you say go away and you know, in a month, when this thing has gone again
you'll regret it.)

The anger, when it comes again, is a blessing
(you seek out things obscenely stupid and hurtful and wrong
bile rises in your throat with a pure keening vengeful fury and you think
yes)

It gets to the point when it's not quite as bad as before:
You sign up for things again, commit, make promises
It'll be different this time. You know:
You're special. Successful. Brilliant. Resilient.
You remember what it's like
to laugh and be confident and know that this feeling will last forever, and forever, and forever
and forever
(until one day, it doesn't
and you can feel the other thing creeping up at the edges and you know:
benjamin franklin never had depression
because of this and taxes you'd probably take taxes
and certainly death)