a short poem

Some days, I'm hit by overwhelming waves of sadness
Just a reminder that I have to deal with my madness
What do I do when I just want to sit there and cry?
Do I cave to those feelings or do I at least try?
Try to snap out of it, try to reach out
So unsure of myself, racked with self doubt
Will this never end?
I complain to a friend
She reminds me that I've been through this before
But all I can think of is that there will probably be more
Where can I go to find healing from this disease?
Will You take this thorn from my side if I ask with a please?
Do I have to live this way, this life in the pit?
Or can I find relief, if only for a little bit?
It's not all downhill, there are even some moments of bliss
But I long to be delivered, delivered from this
This is not who I am, and yet it consumes my thinking
Is it any wonder that bipolars often self-medicate with drinking?
To have a little buzz, and forget about your cares
To escape from the sadness, the sadness that tears
Where do you go when you feel all alone?
When you annoy yourself when you talk, as on and on you drone
Why should others have to listen to your complaining?
When you feel deep down that you really must be draining?
Where do you turn when you feel you can no longer cope?
When you feel as though you're at the end of your rope
God says he draws near to the broken-hearted and down-trodden in spirit
Right now if He told me something though I'm not sure I'd hear it
I feel so distant from my Creator, though I pray every day
Just for strength to get through the day, there must be a way
He does answer that prayer on the way to school I must admit
For the day passes quickly enough, without me wanting to quit
Pull me up from this pit, to the Lord I cry out
And I know that He hears me, even if I can't shout
This too will pass, it always has in the past
I can't wait to be stable, finally, I will say, at last
Then I will be back to my old self, with a new lease on life
After a long time of waiting, and dealing with strife
My life will feel new, I must remind myself of that promise
For if I don't, I lose hope and feel like llamas
So that last line was pretty forced, which means it's time to stop writing
Besides I'm meeting someone for dinner, where I will do some biting
I hope you enjoyed my little play with prose
It has been too long since I tried I suppose