Explaining my dreadful depression to the sane/functional side of my brain.
Depression is a conundrum, living in dark places and gray areas. One day it’s as normal as the sea breeze , the other days there’s a storm ragging against my mind. On those days I play dead until the storm is tamed and pacified. Sane side says, “try lighting lamps”. The other says, when I see a flicker of flame, a ray of hope brightens, blindfolding me. I go back to my hopelessness phase, remembering that’s where I belong to. Besides the darkness withholds my true self, and that’s the problem. The sane side says, I thought the problem is that you can’t get outta bed. The other says, “Yes I can’t, my anxiety gets me drown in my own mind, keeping me as if I were on a house arrest on my own bed. My panic attack sweeps me set in its arms, every ounce of me struggles to breathe. My pillow gives me perfect company, soothing the adrenaline rush of my thoughts and bearing my tears.
I feel like a colossal failure. Yes, I fight the war, but my skittering kneecaps with chronic pain never seem to let go. My tapping feet synchronises with every breath I take, awfully out of my control. My nails and everything in the way of my teeth, gets out of shape, turning into a terrorist craving devastation . And my depression, always drags me back to bed, until my body is as empty as a person floating in the Dead Sea, making me ‘dead’ from inside. Every breathe I take in, goes in with echoes of disappointment.
But you don’t understand, me neither.
~just an effort to normalise the stigma, and support the warriors.
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