My Real Wanderlust

This one is me still moving forward. 


Wonder what depression is like? It’s the point where listening to a sound seems tiring. It could be somebody’s words of love for you, your favourite song, the sound of two spoons dashing at an interval, and all you want to do is shout and shut them all off. You want to shout but you don’t have the energy to open your mouth. The depression surrounds you from within and it consumes you. It eats you. It drowns you. Please pull me up. It’s this burning thing inside you that makes you want to tear yourself apart and burn it down. It’s when you read all those explanations for your being but don’t process a single word because ah well it’s all pointless. It’s when you want sympathy but you don’t. It’s when you want attention but want to be invisible. It’s when you care about your world but you don’t. It’s when you want to lift your hand up but you cannot. It’s when you want to live but you don’t. It’s when you don’t believe that a pill controls your behaviour but its absence proves that it does. It’s when your loved ones need to be distanced. It’s when strangers become your point of solace. Ah well but there’s no solace. It’s when you worry for your dear, while they worry for you, dear. It’s when there’s so much you want to do but there’s nothing you want to do. It’s when good deeds seem bad and bad deeds seem good. You either keep yourself active and not feel a thing or feel a thing and keep yourself inactive. It’s beautiful, it’s your best friend. It’s disgusting, it’s your foe. It’s the darkness which is your beloved own. It’s the darkness which is your storm. You are closer to yourself than you ever were. You have lost yourself and seem farther than afar. There are times you wonder if you will ever escape but you know you will come out stronger than ever before if you choose to fight it. And while I lay here and write of its beauty and its menace, the choking tears come down followed by my laughter. I’m ridiculous and wiser than ever before. That’s what my depression did to me.

And no, you still don’t understand it one bit.

You never will. This one’s mine.


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