My Chronically Failing Rollercoaster

Why is it that the more recovered I think I am,

The happier I seem,

The more I smile,

The more open I am...

Why is it that, inside, things might just be getting worse?

It's a trick,

I'm just sitting here smiling,

Sitting here "enjoying life"

But inside I'm going to snap and I just don't realize it yet.

 

It's happened before;

"I'm recovering,"

"I'm in a much better place now,"

"Treatment has helped so much!"

It's all temporary.

 

Sure, I can't be happy forever, constantly;

Who can?

But this is more than a simple roller coaster of life;

You might ride upwards, feeling good, facing fears,

Then sink a little, sometimes a lot, but you'll get back up.

 

My roller coaster?

Ups and downs alternating 24/7,

Every now and then I'll be happy, content for awhile, with a few dips here and there.

But then it breaks.

And I don't want to tell anyone the ride broke—they may blame me.

I grab what few tools I have with me and try to fix it on my own.

Lacking my knowledge of roller coaster mechanics,

I fail.

Why can't I just quit the ride?

 

A couple people watching might see and offer a hand.

Feeling embarrassed, I refuse,

But later they just start helping despite the rejections.

This is when I realize maybe it's okay;

They don't really know what they're doing either, but we're making progress.

The people can never be positive that the ride has returned to working order, but I tell them it's getting better.

They believe me, feeling happy that something has been working.

However, it's not enough for me to get back on.

 

Maybe the authorities notice me,

Or maybe someone tells;

Rarely though, will I retrieve them myself.

This is when the professionals come in.

Immediate, fast as possible results they want.

They'll push me,

They'll "fix" me,

I'll try my hardest.

 

Now, for a lot of people, they can get back on.

Some may take longer than others.

But what if you can't be "fixed"?

You're just stuck?

Well, there are temporary solutions,

Backup wheels,

But those can't carry you for the rest of your life,

You're going to need to constantly replace them,

Money will be spent,

Time will be lost,

Some people won't wait for you.

 

What's the point of having to constantly "fix" yourself when you're just going to keep breaking?

You're going to be happy, sure,

But then you're going to get sad, frustrated.

You're going to angrily attack this failure in which you travel.

Hurt the roller coaster,

Hurt your future.

 

This depression is going to tell you to just quit the ride;

It's not worth it.

You believe it.

You try to.

 

Getting back on the path is hard,

But you feel euphoric,

Unstoppable,

Unbreakable.

 

In a way, yes, my chronically failing roller coaster makes me unique.

This uniqueness, however, is no reassurance of making it to the end of the ride,

It just tells you that you're still on the ride,

Despite everything against you.

And even if I keep breaking,

It'll be pretty amazing to finish the whole ride.

This poem is about: 
Me

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