Skip to main content

Depression

  1. Depression latches on to every fibre of your being. It sips down to your bone marrow and it permeates through every skin pore. It has no rational thought, and does nothing but collapse into utter despair. Nothing said can even make a dent on the crushing weight of hopelessness. It is a powerful reminder of the truth behind loneliness. Why do I think this way? Why am I the only one feeling this way? Am I crazy? Why do I feel so much? Why aren't the things that make other people happy making me happy? You question your own sanity to the extent that you would much rather die than to continue to live in the dark abyss that exists inside your head. The irony being that the most humane way to get any semblance of relief/peace is by ridding yourself of the burden of life. And you always know and see the ripple effect of how your mind works/how you relate to the world, because you see the people around you slowly die inside everyday trying save you from yourself. Always feeling like a spectator...Never quite fitting in. It's a lonely, and hard journey trying to convince yourself everyday that maybe there is a point to all of this. Always waking up and tackling the day with nothing but hope and a prayer. And yes. People will want to get involved, to advise...to try and help. But what good are reassurances coming from someone who will never really understand the depth of feeling like a living deficit? I cannot begin to adequately explain this most primal, gut-wrenching sadness. So yes, I know what it feels like to want to end it all.


Every breath is a victory.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Still too young

Infinite curiosity and wonder Holding up a woolen crown Weaved with a thread of certainty Kissing both the heavens and the earth Nestling the subtle nectar of unconditional love Tentatively peering past the constraints re-imagined by men The dirt and the musk veiled by bright lights Passively they walk past monuments and metaphors Little to no regard for the rotten underbelly The stench of hopes lost, dreams discarded -           And complacency accepted as a norm Ill fitted realities we slide into Like slick robes we put them on Forsaking a most sacred calling While we abide a most trivial and misguided mental oppression Somehow convinced that this is the best we can offer Prison or a coffin… Dying before we are dead- a routine we practice too often The shoes we cannot fill are too grand A history we cannot placate Because what we are is the change they died for Unsatisfied, but we remain...
2 comments
Read more

Blood Stains On The Pavement

Blood stains on the pavement The footprints of an extinguishing life force Squalor, death and rust They care not for us Gunshots, disembodied screams And the ever-present swan song of police sirens Little kids play on concrete streets No place to house innocence when home possesses no safety, Nor does it offer security In the men we can never trust, devoid of wisdom and humility     Masculinity as fragile as a wine glass We once wore deviance as the voice of the silenced Now we neatly tuck it away together with all the agency of our womanhood We weave street lights like moths to flame My brothers forget us My sisters allow it And the children cannot help but witness it They placate our existence with the amnesia we find at the bottom of a bottle They wait like vultures They poison us with unsolicited prescriptions, When only they carry the sickness Young boys raise hands and fists For a cause rooted only in violen...
2 comments
Read more

AURORA, DEATH AND BEAUTY

The gentle and rhythmic hum of the train soothed Aurora into a dull lull. As she peered through the carriage window, with one eye open- a picturesque field of grass spanning as far as the eye can see steadily came into view. What a beautiful and vast kind of nothingness she thought to herself. While others would have seen this and raveled in the beauty of nature and life. She instead saw the endlessness that is an affliction on all living things. We live, we die so others can live and die. The pointlessness of it all. Caught off-guard by the often absentminded straying of her thoughts, she shook her head violently to her left as if to wake herself from that dark place she knew all too well. Looking down at hands that were cradling shaky knees, she pulled up the right sleeve of a worn-out winter sweater. The grey stitches were starting to venture out and free loose thread that swayed along to the beat of the train. Aurora took one long breath in, closed her eyes altogether and mastere...
2 comments
Read more