Depression. It’s a heavy word, and one that we are all too familiar with in our day and age. You probably know someone close to you that struggles with it, or maybe you do yourself. For a lot of people who have never had depression though, it’s hard to put into words what it feels like. Sure we all know the consequences of depression, and sure we all know it means that someone is sad, but it is (unfortunately) so much more than that. It’s not just an emotional state, but a physical and mental one as well. I myself struggle with depression, and while depression isn’t the same for everyone, this is what it feels like to me.

Depression feels like a solid stone, the same temperature as your body, that has been lodged in your chest. It's heavy, yet you cannot feel it. It weighs on your chest, and though it's as imaginary as my childhood fairy friend, it controls me in a way my imaginary friend never could. It holds me down and back, and makes me stress over the world I'm trying to ignore, praying devotedly that the world ignores me right back.

I have ambition and drive, cunning wit, and resourcefulness. When I don't feel my depression, that is. The moment that my depression hits me like a wall, it's as if I'm an empty sack of sorrow, feeling nothing, wanting nothing, and receiving nothing. The only thing I can even possibly imagine doing is laying down and doing purely nothing. Nothing is quite easy to imagine, after all. I do cry, sometimes, but don't ask me why. I'm sad, yet this is for no reason that I have found. My face is wet, and tears often fall over down one cheek, over my nose, only to join up with the other tear on my other cheek, then landing softly on the bed beneath my face.

The tears somehow relieve my chest, as if all the useless tears are stored where the stone is and by crying I'm emptying space for the stone, causing less pressure inside of me. And while the tears are relieving, they are also infuriating. I hate crying, especially for no reason at all. I hate crying, especially when it's neither the time nor place. I hate crying, especially when I'm around my friends and all they want to do is help.

"Can't you just go away and let me weep and mourn in numb sorrow over nothing? And if you do want to help then hug me and say nothing!" I cry out. But not aloud, oh no. Never out loud. Always quietly and inside myself.

But back to when I do cry and can't control it, I can't feel the emotions that make me cry, or even comprehend what might make me cry. This confuses me beyond all belief, and makes me annoyed at the fact that I don't know why I'm upset or why I'm crying or why I'm not alright and happy like everyone else.

I don't get the tears and why I cry at those times, and I don't think I ever will.

I don't get why I lack all of my strongest driving qualities at those times, and I don't think I ever will.

I don't get why my chest is heavy at those times, and I don't think I ever will.

I don't get why I have and struggle with depression, and I don't think I ever will.

I don't understand any of it, ever, at all, and I don't think I ever will.