Depressed is the new black

Dare I look at myself in the glass to view, what a mess I have turned into? I look and see a figure that could be me, and I must confess that down and depressed fits me best. Dark and alone in this big cold home, that was once my castle,tall and full of laughter. After some time it was no long sublime and depression became my captor. He grabbed me up and my crown fell to the ground, then without my permission my castle became my prison. No matter what people do or say I cannot seem to get away. Encouraging words and genuine love is out there but, mean, twisted, harsh words is all I hear in my mind. I am afraid that some day the sadness wont leave and I will never return to me. Instead of looking for help, I sit alone with myself. Weak and frail, ugly and vile, worthless and broken, thoughts that I start to believe in. There was once happiness and confidence, now replaced with hate and loneliness. Eventually the depression cycle will end and I will return to me again.