I do the work

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I go through healing, through breaking and mending,

Through nights that feel endless, through mornings worth tending.

I take the meds, I do the therapy, I do the work,

Even when depression still waits in the dark.

I’ve done the hard labor of facing my pain,

Learning how sunshine can follow the rain.

I push myself gently to take the next steps,

Through weekly and monthly goals carefully kept.

I live a little lighter, a little less numb,

Though some days the sadness still quietly comes.

I take the meds, I do the therapy, I do the work,

Trying to find meaning where life used to hurt.

The ups and downs twist like a tide in the sea,

But somehow I still pull myself back to me.

I am not healed, but I heal and I break,

Then gather the pieces my hands still can make.

And mostly I move forward, though slowly at times,

Still learning to crawl toward a life that feels mine.

I take the meds, I do the therapy, I do the work,

And carry my hope though the road can still hurt.

I look back on tragedy, trauma, and fear,

The ghosts may stay with me, but they don’t steer.

The work I have done lets me finally speak,

Lets me move through this life feeling softer, less weak.

I take chances, make mistakes, bruise and rebuild,

Face the good and the ugly with both hands still filled.

Because I am not broken, I’m painfully human,

Still growing, still trying, still learning what’s ruin.

I take the meds, I do the therapy, I do the work,

I survive every valley, every shadowed curve.

And maybe “fine” isn’t perfect or grand,

But today I am standing.

And today I still can.