They say that it gets better,
But when will that day be?
We’re holding it together,
As we’re falling to our knees.
Sending prayers to nowhere,
Feeling so alone,
One foot in front of the other,
Feeling worse, they say you’ve grown.
“Grown in your recovery, not as bad as you once were,”
They keep saying all this nonsense, and still, it’s all a blur.
Precariously we listen, follow and concede,
Exceed the expectations,
Trusting we’ll be freed.
An alcoholic stops their drinking,
A drug addict stops the pills,
Not comparing illnesses—
It’s all about your will.
Your willingness to give in,
Or your willingness to fight,
We’re fighting for recovery,
And just to do what’s right.
Brittany, Heidi, Morgan, Steph—
A reminder to us all,
This illness has no limits,
It laughs each time we fall.
“A cancer of the mind,” they say,
A monster they call “Ed”,
To me it seems as though
We should name him “Death” instead.
Yet death seems so appealing,
When Depression’s in the game,
That’s why I’m keeping tabs
On each of my friends names.
Say them loud and say them clear,
And let it all be known,
That even though they fought for freedom
They’re now just names on stones.
That’s why we can’t just give up,
We have to fight like hell,
Until this is a story of redemption, truth and courage..
and recovery as well.