Up here

I see many things from way up here,
I see the many ways in which I’ll crash back down,
It could be a bad day at work,
Or it could be someone cuts me up on the road.
Point being, it doesn’t matter how big or small, a crash is still a crash.
I have a high and I struggle to run with it, as I know if I allow myself to enjoy something it will hurt more when I tumble straight back down that dark horrid hole of depression.
My anxiety has hit tops lately too, if I am out I’m convinced something bad will happen, that people are plotting against me.

“It’s not real” I tell myself, over and over again. Somehow I think the more I tell myself that the more I might actually believe it, truth is who the hell am I trying to kid?