Some feelings are like old, familiar friends. Depression is like that for me.
When the episode starts, it can be slow at first. An intrusive thought: “I don’t want to be here,” but then it’s gone.
You bat it away like a fly or a bad smell. When it hits you fully though, when you’re really in it, it’s everything. It’s who you are, you’re nothing else.
On the outside, you look the same; smiling and pretending is so much work, but inside, it’s a different story. You start to hate yourself. You’re so alone, so unbelievably alone.
And you can be with someone you love, but you’re not really with them.
We think we know what’s going on with other people, but we don’t.
Everyone’s fighting a battle you can’t see. We all have blind spots.
And you know it’s you. You know there is something wrong with you, and it’s exhausting. So g-ddmn shtty and exhausting, and it’s helpless.
It’s a void, and existing takes so much energy, you wanna sink into a hole of nothing where no one talks to you and you don’t have to smile or talk or be.
I’ve been here before, gotten out of it before, but the getting out part becomes the room that you remember but aren’t in. And that’s what’s scary…
…Being back in the room where depression lives, it’s a sharp pain and an overwhelming numbness. I love her. Even in the room, I love her. But being loved takes work too. I don’t have it in me to be loved right now.
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