I wrote this poem late at night, when I decided to turn "my string of emotions, and my storm of thoughts into words." I wanted to explain how I fear that my mental health could crash at any moment, but I'm still fighting. The ways I cope, and how I still have bad urges. "A few pills can briefly hold the fight." I take medication for my mental disorders, and you know how when you take medication you have to do it every few hours or so? So, a few pills can *briefly* keep me stable until it wears off. On my mother's side of the family, there are a lot of mental illnesses that I inherited. One day, I mumbled to myself, "I inherited this mess." When I felt depressed. She responded with, "Yeah sure, blame it on other people." When I'm depressed, I remember how I felt during a dark period of my life. But eventually I snap out of it. When you have depression, things that were once a normal routine become an impossible goal. I've had trouble with hygiene and especially completing school assignments due to this.