[/b]Depression is....
I am naked and alone, in the dark. It is windy and cold, and the wind whispers, it sometimes howls. There are voices in the wind. I hear my stepfather, whispering,then shouting. Other times the voices I hear are my own, or my mothers, or the voice of a long ago ex. They are all whispering terrible things.
I should kill myself.
I am worthless.
I deserved the broken bones.
I deserved to be raped.
You are a terrible mother.
You don't deserve her.
You should give her to your sister and walk away.
You will never be anything.
The wind lashes me like a whip. It leaves it's mark.
I am cowering against a giant pane of glass, it is cold against my skin.
On the other side is my family, my friends, everyone I love and admire. They are gathered around a huge table feasting and laughing and basking in the warmth of the room and each others company.
I pound my fists against the glass and scream. No one seems to hear me. I stand up and throw myself against the glass. I feel the shuddering impact and fall back to the ground now broken, but still screaming. I crawl back.
I place my bloody hands against the glass and peer in to the room, crying and pleading for someone, anyone to take notice of me.
Someone does. It is a bald headed little man I failed to notice until now, but I have seen him before.
He is my depression. He is the physical embodiment of this disease, and he sees me.
He gets up, a slow nasty grin appearing on his face. He walks over to the window and stands there staring down at me. He is gloating.
He takes a sip from the glass he is holding. Without a word, but maintaining eye contact and with that grin, he slowly lets the blinds down. He wiggles his fingers at me as he closes the blinds, blocking me from the room and my loved ones.
I let out a pleading sob and go limp.
There is no warm room for me. No loved ones, and no laughter.
I am alone in the dark, wounded and afraid. The wind lashes me, endlessly whispering and howling.
Describe Depression
Moderators: windsong, BlueGobi, Moderators, Astrid
thank you for sharing that- you have a way with words
the way i've always tried to describe depression is that you're in an elevator and it is stuck on the first floor
the people (or in this case, thoughts and neggative feelings) are stuck in a really small space and because they don't have a lot of room, they invade you constantly
then, without any warning, the elevator doors open, the thoughts vannish, and you are left standing their feeling foolish. (or feeling empty)
the way i've always tried to describe depression is that you're in an elevator and it is stuck on the first floor
the people (or in this case, thoughts and neggative feelings) are stuck in a really small space and because they don't have a lot of room, they invade you constantly
then, without any warning, the elevator doors open, the thoughts vannish, and you are left standing their feeling foolish. (or feeling empty)
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