That Damn Dog.

That Damn Dog.

It starts with the tiredness. I wake exhausted. Does the exhaustion cause the depression or does the depression cause the exhaustion? Doesn’t matter, because by then it’s too late.

Next come the tears. I am on the edge of crying every moment of the day. If I stop for a minute, and just think, the tears start to well. I can’t tell you why. Or I can.

Because he’s back. The black dog. When the realisation hits that is what’s happening, I feel the fear. That familiar fear, I don’t want to do this again. I can’t.

But I can. I do. I will. I am stronger than him. I just need to lay low, ride it out. Just keep breathing. Remember that I have done this before, I will do it again.

He will not take me.