This is Depression.

I look at myself in the mirror , and I pity the reflection I see. The one where I look like sadness has taken over my entire being and colored me in blue. I can’t remember when it started. I believe it creeped into me gradually, and then grew to control me faster.

I have everything, I shouldn’t complain. A home, a wonderful family, friends, education, job, a car, a dog. But what I lack is love. No, everybody loves me. I am at the receiving end of love. But do I spread love? No. I am like a terminal illness, slowly attacking and killing everything in my wake. But I cannot stop.

I hate myself, I hate my life. These are constant thoughts that keep clouding my mind. What I bring to this world is darkness. I hate my home. I hate being with family. I hate laughing with my friends. I see no purpose with my education. I want to give up my job. I haven’t used my car in a days. I don’t talk to my dog. This is me now. The new me.

The old me loved all that I did. Loved to talk, laugh and simply be. But that life is over. I don’t know what changed me. I don’t know why this is happening. I am in doubt myself. I have just as many questions as you have, but I don’t have answers to any. I know you can see through me. I know you can feel the change in me. You feel hurt and pain by the way I behave, by the way I shut myself off from everything. But what you don’t know is I am lost, while you are thinking ‘it’s a phase’.

But it is not just a phase. I don’t love what I used to love. I don’t want to be around people anymore. I don’t want to do anything, in fact. I don’t even want to eat or shower. Everyday I struggle to go through life and make it look like everything is ok.

I want to reach out and tell you how I feel. But I choke on my words each time. My voice closes of and I can’t make a sound. I want you to know, I am in trouble. I know I am in trouble. This has been going on for far too long now. It’s nearing the end. I am nearing the end. My thoughts these days are dark and gruesome. I need help. I am crying for help. But no one can hear me.

This is depression.
All rights reserved © inkonpaperstories