Pardon my language but depression is a total motherfucker. It's insidious. I've been spiraling downward so slowly that I honestly didn't even see it coming this time. I didn't know how deeply I would bury myself inside my shell and call it protection. And now I'm a combination of old scars, scabs, and fresh wounds--figurative of course. And I can't tell friend from foe. I can't even tell if I really have friends. Everything looks false. The only thing I know to be true is that depression lies. And I hold on to that truth for dear fucking life. I cling and I cling and I keep holding on and I hope that I come out on the other side.
Sometimes in the deepest, darkest parts of my mind I hope for death. I don't think so much of killing myself--I'm too squeamish for that, and I could never, ever hurt the people I love like that. Maybe it isn't so much death but oblivion. I just want the world to go completely dark. I want peace. I want the suffering to end. I want my depression to end. I think about getting in an accident or getting hurt so that I will be put somewhere and they will take care of me for awhile. And then that scares me. And I worry that I'm crazy. And these are just tiny thoughts in my head that I almost never think. And I would never actually do any of these things. I would never actually hurt myself. I would never actually kill myself or hurt myself or do anything to hurt anyone else. But I am a little broken. And I have some broken thoughts. And I know I am not alone, no matter how much I feel like I am.
I think the worst thing about depression is that I can't talk about my depression. I feel like if I tell someone that I think about death then they will either think I am going to try to kill myself (which I am not) or they will think I am just trying to get attention (which I am not). What I am instead hoping for is for human contact and understanding. I don't want to feel alone anymore. I want to feel like I am allowed to say that I suffer from depression (and have for the last 22 years) and for the world to not think I'm either absolutely nutballs or attention-seeking.
I'm tired. I'm lonely. I'm in pain. I'm depressed. Everything around me is warped and tinted with my depression-tinted lenses. The funny thing is that I know this. And I actually want to stop it. And I see it happening. I just can't even tell truth from lies. And I don't know how to like or love myself enough to stop. I will keep trying though. Because I do want to live. I do want to feel better. And I want to punch depression in the face.
