Depression has pushed into every corner of my existence. When the depression takes over I am not in control. I'm drowning. Every bad memory, every single thing that has hurt me, every bad thing I have ever done comes back and grabs me by the ankle and drags me back under the water just as I'm about the reach the surface. It's suffocating and I am not able to do anything about it.
Sometimes, it feels like absolutely nothing—nothing but clouded apathy.
Or it is the constant questioning how anyone could like to be around me because I am completely undeserving of anything but contempt. I feel nothing yet I hurt all the time, and the pain is unbearable. It is not monsters under my bed that keep me awake at night, they are my own thoughts. I feel lonely when I am in a room full of people and feel invisible to every one of them. I feel unwanted, unloved, and uncared for even when I receive affection. I feel cut off from the rest of humanity, and can't quite bridge the gap between myself and everyone around me.
The switch between normalcy and depression can be instantaneous.
Some days are more difficult than others for sure, but even the less difficult days tend to be a struggle. Depression shows up when I am at paintball, sitting in class, or while I'm doing homework in the library. I start having thoughts so disturbing that I scare even myself.
The part where I scare myself the most is when I don't want to be anywhere.
Suicidal thoughts are in such black-and-white terms. Either you have suicidal thoughts and you want to die, or you don't have suicidal thoughts and you want to live. What most people don't understand is there are some stuck in the gray area of those two statements. I am one of them.
I've thought about going into the bathroom and taking every single pill I could find and just drifting to sleep and never waking back up. I think about cutting little marks in my arm. Not deep cuts but enough to feel some relief. Just a few days ago on my way home I thought about driving my car straight into a tree. But I didn't. Why? Even though that urge was so strong, I didn't want to die. I don't want others to worry because the first thing anyone thinks when you tell them you have thoughts about hurting or killing yourself is that you're going to do it and they begin to panic. Yes, I have suicidal thoughts, but I don't want to die.
It's difficult to explain what's going on in your own head to someone else.
Even in a perfect setting of mutual respect and willingness to listen, it is hard to explain how I feel. I don't think there is a way to do so. How do you explain a dark feeling only you know and understand? The worst part is when I cry and the worst type of crying wasn't the kind everyone could see. No, the worst kind happened when your soul wept and no matter what you did, there was no way to comfort it.
Day by day, night by night. It's a continuous fight with depression. Every thought is a battle and in my silence, chaos rages.
