Webs

Trying to appear normal while walking straight into a spiderweb of depression is tricky. 

The web, invisible to the average bystander, is sticky as it swirls and wraps around my mind.

I wave my hands furiously around my head trying to clear away the residue. 

Perhaps some around me watch and wonder what hidden foe I'm fighting as they clearly cannot see any physical source of my feverish panic. 

If those closest to me would stop and look; they would see what I'm fighting.  But instead they are holding their own hands in front of their faces. Trying not to see what is really going on.

The stringy web is there as no amount of fighting can remove the remaining shreds.  They surround me.  I struggle my best to remove them.  But even I cannot see the full scope of damage as darkness begins to fall.

And then I'm ensnared.