Pendulum

You asked me what anxiety and depression feel like for me. My anxiety screams at me. It screams at me to move. It screams at me to get up. It screams at me to be careful. It screams at me to watch out. It shreiks from the back of my mind. It tells me to keep a watchful eye. I might miss something. I might not be able to control what's going on around me. It tells me to open up my fucking ears. Listen to every sound you can. Listen for angry tones and upset words. Run away if you witness them. My depression, on the other hand, smothers me. It shades my eyes and blocks out what little light might shine through. It holds me still and somber. It pushes me under the water, tempting to drown me. It makes my heart hurt and it exhausts my energy. It makes me spiral into holes I've dug to keep myself from drowning. It keeps bars across my heart that hold in all of my hurt and all my hate. Each it's own side of a pendulum. Swinging ever faster, threatening to break me down.