Depressed

So, depression. That’s not fun, is it?

No. It’s ugly and it’s painful and it’s endless.

It’s maddening to be depressed and alone. It’s maddening to realize, at that one brief moment in your life, that you’re depressed and there is no saving you. You feel the smack, square across your face, hard and unforgiving. There are no tears. There is madness. There is no moving about. There is deadly stillness, surrendering hopelessness, longing for escape. There is wondering, illogical and surreal, defying the laws of nature and physics and existence and all things real, that ponders any chance or possibility for one to escape their own genetics and disappear into a puff of nothingness if one willed it bad enough.

To be depressed and alone is to bear the heaviest burden of existing while knowing that it’s never going to work. It’s to exist against your will. It’s to feel your skin burn with unwanted life. It’s to think too much too often that your brain cells start to hurt. It’s to long for an impossible escape from time and space. It’s to hear pop music and not want to dance. It’s to smell perfume and feel sick. It’s to see art and think of death. It’s to eat food and not moan in pleasure. It’s to breathe and have your throat and windpipes and lungs sear with pain. It’s to feel your heart rot and your bones fray and your blood spoil and your flesh decay.

And all the while, you feel all of these things, and you know that something’s not quite right in your head, but you can’t speak up about it, lest people think you’re mad.

That’s the thing about mental illness, you know you’re ill because something hurts, or everything hurts. But you can’t exactly put a finger on it and say ‘here, Ma, the pain is here’. It’s not like cutting a finger or breaking a leg. Physical pain is conventional, universal, everyone knows it because at one time or another they’ve all felt it, they know how to spot and cure it. But when you yourself don’t know what hurts or why, when it’s not physical for you to point out, how can anyone else be of any help?

That’s why you’re alone. Only you know of your pains.

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