My head

And my heart

function

normally.

But the nerves

between them

are

d a m a g e d

beyond repair.

Slow

to leave

the darkness

the comfort

the oblivion

of sleep

I awaken

day

after

day

after

day

to a world

drained

of color

of joy

of energy

suffocating

on hues

of gray

I feel

heavy

lumbering

listless

my body

an unwanted

weight

the air

laden

with melancholy

despair

woe

my mind

mired

in the endless

soul-destroying

mind-numbing

why’s

of it all

the answers

to which

I do not

know.

it grows in you like fresh moss,

tangled and chaotic until you forget

where your own roots begin and its end.

its leafy vines steal your water, but they grow so

lush and vibrant that you don’t realize.

not completely. you feel your body losing its lifeline,

but suddenly you're too tired to do anything about it.

some people only see some a bunch of moss,

but others, the ones closest to you,

implore you to manage the overgrowth.

but by now your heart is overtaken by the

invasive species, its gnarled vines twisted around your bones.

an invisible master leaving you no choice but quiet submission.

day by day, you let the dark moss consume you.

you become a mere host,

your only purpose to water the plants

until one day,

you just can’t anymore.

Feeling everything, but nothing all at once

It hits you faster than your own creation

Now doubting your own creation

Am I swimming just to stay alive,

Or swimming in these waters to die?

Let screams free and they just echo back to me

Except I can’t recognize this helpless voice that,

Pleads my own sake, pleads my own name

Is it reaching for help

Or for...death?

Depression is the deepest depths of the darkest places overtaking your soul. It is like a hug from someone holding knife; keeping you enveloped in a comfort bubble shielding you from reality, telling you that this is the only place that you could ever be loved, while they stab you from behind, never letting you forget your imperfections, always reminding you that no one could ever want you, no one could ever love you, and that no matter how hard you try, no one will ever accept you for who you truely are. Depression is like being in an abusive relationship, but with yourself. There are no physical scars or bruises, well sometimes there are, but most of the damage is on the inside. Depression is not knowing how to love yourself, not knowing how to be loved by someone else, not knowing how to love someone else. It is a demon taking residence in your body slowly crushing your heart, your soul, and your mind. Depression is social isolation into a dark room where friends and family are not allowed, where you can escape to an augmented reality of fiction so that you can spare yourself of a few hours of the painful reality that is your life. Depression is not knowing how to deal with emotions, it's breaking down and crying and becoming an emotional mess, letting go of years of pain in an hour sob session because in every other day, you don't allow yourself to feel or expel those emotions, causing them to build in pressure and number harboring them inside until it physically hurts to wake up in the morning. Depression is building a wall around yourself so that no one can ever get in, because fear that they will hurt you and break your heart, but at the same time knowing that no one could hurt you any worse than you have already hurt yourself. Depression is being convinced that you are broken, and that there is no possible way ever that you could ever be fixed. Depression is my demon that just won't leave.