Depression.

That feeling creeps up like a sneeze or a hiccup. You'll just be going throughout your day and BAM! there it is. Throwing you off your game. How do you escape that? Hope seems to wither. The dark cloud covers me like a blanket. One that is damp and heavy but oddly enough I find comfort in it. Because it is the only feeling that I've always known. It's always been there. Waiting and watching. Ready to pounce at any chance. I've said and told and pleaded that I'm not alright. But no one believes it. No one thinks it could be real. But it's the real-est thing I know.