Doubt

Feeling good
Running around
Catch up on
What’s run into the ground.

So much to do
So far behind
Laundry, yard work
Constantly on the grind.

But fear comes
Banging on my door
Is this real,
Will I plummet to the floor?

Exhausted already
Pushing too hard?
Will I be ok,
Can I let down my guard?

Or is this already
The end of my rope?
I thought I’d healed
And could hold onto hope.

Life is funny
Playing tricks with my mind
I hope to survive
And not become—left behind.

Backdated 9/26/19

Bipolardepressionhypo maniamaniamanic

◄ 5:00 AM

Confusion ►

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