Depression
is not a day with ice cream, drowning into the couch watching a sad movie. Or a
breakup where everything gets smaller with distance. Depression is not all in
your head; it hurts in places you didn’t even know had feeling. Depression is hidden in the jokes, the
pauses, the drinks, the late nights, the forced smiles – perfectly rehearsed. It’s
a loneliness words can’t commit to, it’s following a routine and then breaking
down between. Depression is not an option; it’s a sentence with “Don’t come too
close” signs.
Depression
is a daily fight inside your head to get out of bed, say hello, make small talk,
cook a meal – maybe. If sad is a state then depression is a whole continent –
landlocked and longing for sea. It’s waking up being consumed by everything but
also nothing. No more fear, just bed and regret and emptiness and ignoring
friends.
“I
don’t feel well” – it’s not a lie, it’s just not the full story. And you don’t
want to tell the full story. It’s late night flashbacks, glazed over by turning
up the noise. It’s hating yourself for being this way, but feeling too tired to
turn the page. It’s telling yourself, this is the life, this is how it feels to
be alive and to be you. Depression. It is a blank canvas that you can’t write
on. It’s an anger you can’t express. It’s a pill you can’t swallow but need.
