trigger warning- this is a descriptive about nights with depression. If you are easily triggered, you may want to not read this, and if you are currently feeling extra low, maybe skip to the last paragraph where I’ve inserted cookies, hugs, and hotlines. Take care.<3
I remember the initial butterfly kisses that the shadows left, almost daintily, on my fragile shoulders the first few nights. The coaxing voice of my Depression, lurking somewhere in the big, vast howling tavern of nothing. I can vaguely remember my attempts to run away from the twistedly alluring call of Depression. I remember the night it let itself into my mind, where I began what I thought was a one night stand- only to realize my Depression would follow me around like an uncontrollable plague.
Since then, I’ve had countless different types of nights. Some nights, I get the grace of sleep. Where my emotions of sadness are so overwhelming that my mind gets tired. These are the nights where I don’t sleep feeling safe or happy, but I sleep with the want to escape, shut myself down. These are the nights where I feel like my body is trying to hibernate, only to realize in the morning that it has not stopped resisting, it has not stopped its foolish insistence on fiercely continuing to exist. These are the nights that I recall like static, grey and insignificant as they orchestrate my painfully indifferent attitude to my own life. Then, there are the nights where the burdens on my shoulders weigh down on me like boulders, where my demons emerge out of the shadows, almost flirtatiously torturing my self-image. As though they are teasing me, they languidly float across the shadows, in and out of my mind, leaving a trail of sadness as they go. As the night passes, the demons get more and more excited, until they can’t stop exploring the deepest darkest corners of my mind. Suddenly, their trails of numbing sadness are replaced with something much more horrifying- fear. Coming out from the corners of my mind that I had been running away from. Fear of failing, fear of falling, fear that all good things will end. Every lie I’ve ever told, every lie that’s ever been told about me, every single mistake I’ve ever made, and every word I’ve ever spoken that’s come out wrong and misunderstood. Every single time I failed. The fear only worsens as it becomes pure and unadulterated, and I flood with these thoughts, these mistakes, these unanswered questions. I see Depression’s lips curled up into a smile. I know I should be stronger on these nights, but that simply isn’t something I can do. I know that on these nights I should try and look at all the times I’ve flown instead of fallen, but on these nights it seems as though I can only think the thoughts that Depression wants me to think. I can’t control the negativity, the emotions of hate and anger and unfounded resentment. Looking back on these horrible nights, I hate myself for not being stronger. For not being able to fight against my own thoughts. The war in my mind is almost pathetic. But I can’t just be positive, and trust me I want to. I, more than anyone else, want to escape this hell I have created for myself, but it does not work that way, and it’s nights like these that remind me of that cruel reality.
There are the nights which I remember as a lucid buzz. They are faded and dusty, of no value or importance. I do not sleep on these nights, but you would hardly call the state I’m in awake. I’m simply there, and here’s one thing they won’t ever tell you about Depression- not only is it not a one night stand, it’s also overwhelmingly boring. Sometimes it is not in the mood for a passionate attack on your soul. Sometimes, it is simply in the mood to lurk around in the corner in a way that establishes its presence in a way that is specifically intrusive in a way that will bring you to your knees- it will not scream, but at the mere whisper of Depression, your mind will bend itself over and twist itself around as commanded. These nights are the ones where you are bored as fuck, but also alone and heavy. And what is your malicious lover, Depression, doing? It’s right there in the corner of your conscience, watching, but not speaking, because it does not want to intrude on the symphony of your misery that it so carefully commanded. The silence buzzes and hums in a monotone, and the numbness will stab in the most painful way possible. Your urge to get up, do something, anything, will be met with resistance from your mind and body. There won’t be any hysterical sobbing, because that’s hardly torture. There will be the choked up feeling of waiting to scream but not being able to. The feeling of watching yourself sink into grey and not being able to swim. You are drowning, and your gasps for air are somehow invisible. Perhaps everyone who is watching sees your desperate gasps for air as an exhale. Depression whispers a slightly different hypothesis- they see you, but they don’t care. These are the nights you have with Depression. A continual, misleading one night stand that has overstayed its welcome. Most nights are a mix of these, or just one exaggerated version of these. Depression isn’t a one night stand.
Thank you for reading! wanna check out more rants and weird attempts at poems and musings? My blog is open, and if you’re nice I’ll hand out cookies xD Anyways, if you’re currently struggling with depression and are feeling alone, take this free hug (click here and here and here for cute GIF s that send hugs from me to you ^^) and also a few hotlines, just in case.
Vent to an anonymous stranger- https://www.7cups.com
In case you’re feeling suicidal- http://suicide.org/
Hotlines for Depression specifically- http://addiction.lovetoknow.com/wiki/Depression_Hotlines