Confessions of the depressed.

Dear self,

I now know a little more about depression. I know that it hits like a wave, high at night when you are all alone and recedes during the day when you’ve got to fake something for the rest of the world around you. Even though you barely have the energy to get out of bed.

I know about pain you can’t quite capture right with words. Pain that casts you out without pointing you out. Pain that hijacks your thoughts and holds you captive, awaiting comfort and truth to pay your ransom. Where pain is all you think about and self-hate becomes more of a paradise than it was ever meant to be.

I know about tears that come unbidden. That make you wonder about the storage of tears and how with all your crying they have failed to run out. That make it impossible to have a meaningful conversation with your dear ones because when they get to close to the hurt, the faucet will open. And you can’t have that. Ugly crying infront of happy people!

I know about loss…Of identity, of purpose, of time and chance. Where all your conversations and thoughts read like a blank page because managing pain became a full time job. But you can’t write that on your CV and it won’t pay the bills. And also, there is no starting point for this conversation. All your head can do is scream, ‘No one will understand this’.

All pictures used are taken from Unsplash.

I know the feeling of inadequacy, of thinking…and believing that you are failing at life. Where the world seems to be closing in on you, throwing you into a coffin. With the nail driven further with every success you see on social media. That could be you, yes it could and this drives you into the repetitive abuse you inflict on yourself, constantly asking, ‘What’s wrong with me’.

I know more about misery’s company. Sad songs and tragedies, whether visual or literary. Food and no responsibility. Anything to take the pain from you. Anything to prove you are not falling alone. Misery surely loves her company. But misery is also picky about whom she’ll let in. Give misery time.

And I know about hope! I know about hope. Perhaps this is what I want most for you from all this. Don’t let it be an abstract word, a distant memory or an unattainable goal. Don’t stay lost in the pain and hurt, when hope will help you float. Because one thing is clear, even this shall pass.