Depression

This weekend depression and I became reacquainted.

Depression is an old pal I haven’t seen since February of this year, and when I finally managed to give her the boot and told her she couldn’t stay anymore, she put up a fight, but eventually skulked off to haunt someone else’s nightmares.

Depression is like one of those friends that you know you shouldn’t hang out with, but do anyway because you can’t quite seem to part ways. But when you finally do you realize how far she’s managed to drag you down, and now all that’s left is the weary fight to climb back up and face what you left up there.

Depression greeted me with a smile and a warm hug as I wrapped myself in her embrace, unable to fight her off anymore. She is familiar, comfortable, draining, yet sustaining. Depression convinced me to spend four days in the same pajamas in bed, barely eating and not drinking water. Depression reminded me that I like to lie in bed all day and binge watch tv until I pass out intermittently through the day and night until it’s night and day again.

Depression gave me an out. She told me that it was normal to feel sad about everything. To feel so tired from being here for so long. And now that it doesn’t feel like there is going to be an end, she urged me to do what I felt was needed. So I stayed in bed and let my hair knot and my scalp bleed, my wounds got infected and my face was covered in open wounds and crusted blood, but all I could do was just sit there and let it happen.

Depression tells me not to talk to anyone, to shut everyone out because they don’t understand anyway and because I just don’t have the energy to talk anymore. Depression is heavy. It sits in me and pulls me down. I’m drowning underwater being dragged by her strong grip.

But now it’s time for depression to go again. So I go to the doctor and take a shower and change pajamas. I eat a real meal and clean my face and drink a bottle of water. Because I deserve it. Because I’m in pain right now and I’m not going to drown it out anymore. I’m tired, I’m hurt, I’m lost. But I’m reaching up and pulling myself back out of that black hole, because I don’t have time to dedicate to this friendship when all my real friends are waiting for me up top, reaching down to grab me and pull me up.

And as I write this I feel depression with her big hand wrapped around my throat preventing me from breathing, making me want to get back into bed and lie there until the morning, but I won’t because I know that it’s not what I should be doing right now. So go suck it, depression.

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