So these are two pieces I wrote during a severe depression. At first I thought about deleting them, but I realized although I've since over come my depression, one may be able to relate to these feelings. If you are that person know this:
1) Don't stop fighting.
2) You won't feel this pain/numbness forever.
3) There is life after depression, and it is beautiful & fulfilling.
These are works written at my lowest therefore they are not too pleasant to read, nonetheless I feel they are necessary to share. So...Enjoy...?
Number One:
My outlook on my life isn't always the brightest. Especially when the hazy fog of a not-so-good-night's sleep is clouding over my head. I lay in bed wishing I could pound the snooze button one more time. Sadly, I've worn out all the procrastinating options of my morning. I allow one leg to lazily fall of the bed as the other follows. I swing my torso up causing me to sit up, I then proceed to push myself up to stand. Before opening my eyes and taking the first step of the morning I take a deep breath, I open my eyes and begin the rest of my morning routine. Eat a banana. Brush my teeth. Get dressed. Then I'm on my way out the door. On the drive to school I give myself the usual "pep talk" It's the same every morning. Basically I lie to myself over and over again till some part of me believes it. "This isn't so bad. Today is going to be a better day. You are happy. You are smart. You are loved. People would care if you were gone. You can handle this. You don't care what people say or think. You are invincible."
Number Two:
Every morning she wakes up dreading the routine to come. Like clock work the whispers begin with jabbing words of hatred, anxiety ties itself in a tight knot within her chest, and loneliness trickles into her heart. The walls around her come up allowing nothing to get too close. Next, insecurity slithers it's arms around her abdomen followed by the chains of self doubt and uncertainty around her neck, causing her back to slouch from all the weight. Her past wraps around her ankles, weighing down her every step. She pulls over a heavy sweater that's big enough to cover the insecurity. She throws on a pair of shoes and jeans to cover her past. The last thing she puts on is her mask. The corners of its lips stretched up just enough to bare the slightest hint of teeth. Over the years she's learned how to adjust it enough to fool people into thinking it is, in fact, her real smile. The only piece the mask does not cover is her eyes. In her eyes holds all the pain of her world. But few look long enough to see and even fewer care. The only time she ever gets a break from all this is while she sleeps.
Sometimes she'll receive a complement and, like a flower, those words will blossom into something beautiful. But every time the hateful whispers will become shouts of defiance causing the flower to die of malnutrition. Sometimes a person will come into her life, wrap their arms around her, and engulf her with their love. Love will cover her from head to toe and in that moment there is peace. Soon doubt, insecurity, and anxiety will begin to burn through her skin causing the love to melt away. One day someone asked her "Why can't knowing that you are loved by us be enough for you?" She never answered aloud, simply because she didn't have one. Although later she came to realize its because the whispers will never allow her to believe she's loved.
Over the years she's grown so exhausted from fighting that she doesn't anymore. Her muscles ache from carrying the weight of her past and the chains around her neck. She's given up on hope and runs away from happiness. Because she knows they're just like all the other lies our parents fed us as children. For her, to believe those things would ever exists for her, is like believing a white bearded fat man will squeeze down her chimney every Christmas. So she sleeps to hide away for reality and all it's horror. She falls asleep at night thinking "maybe tomorrow I won't have to wake up."
