The other day I had a dream that’s been weighing on my mind. I’ve almost been too ashamed to share it but I don’t think it will go away till I written it down. I dreamed that I was at my family’s small little lake house. My Mom, Dad, Brother, and sister where there. My nostalgia was over run by depression. A deep inexpiable depression that I could not explain to anyone around me. A ran away and hid myself in a small room to hide my shame. It was then that hand belonging to no one handed me a noose.
I awoke, but the dream still stays vivid in my mind. Haunting me a little. I can only think that hand was the worst parts of mind. Telling me to give up. The voice that I keep fighting everyday.