Wednesday 21 September 2011

Depression

I have never diagnosed with depression or anything similar. So far, I have spoken only ever one or two people on this subject. My family is not even aware of it. My hope is that this position will help me in the long run, regardless of how difficult it is for me to write it now.

I do not hate the world. I think that the world is a vast, beautiful place, and the wondrous love to see more. I do not hate my life, either. In fact, I have almost everything you want at any time before: life in the city, private and university education from the top, and the job I enjoy, and some truly amazing friends, and the person who loves me as much as I love it.

What I hate myself, and I feel that everyone should, too. There is a reason for this, stemming from my childhood and a lot of primary schools. Perhaps the type of personality, genetics, or some sort of chemical imbalance in the brain add to it. I do not know exactly when and where they come from this depression, but I am determined to get rid of it.

Depression is a shadow. It is unfair to my heart and everything living there. Joyful activities lose their appeal, and I question if these I'd have to reciprocate on health care. I see myself in a futile; a waste of time, space, and breathing. I am afraid of failure down, ridicule, rejection and see each and every one of them in every interaction I have.

Depression is sustainable. It starts with the player, which affects my emotions. I start to feel bad, then think hard. I think that poor myself, and it reflects in my actions and interaction with others. Things are not going well, and that makes me feel worse. Emotions and thoughts, and actions that form an endless loop.

Depression and the holidays alone. It is difficult for me to create my sun when I feel it does not deserve it. It's not that I can not, but I do not think I am worth the effort. Without waiting for someone to greet me with a smile once out of the shadows, I see a good reason to bother.

Depression destroys perspective. I forget why I do my life: I worked hard for it. Because I gave to myself. Because I'm worth it, because I can not do anything I put in my mind. Because I am human and make mistakes is not the end of the world.


I work very hard at this, but I am only human. I slip up and spend a few hours drowning in depression. I do and say things based off that depression, and push away those that mean the most important thing for me. I panic at being alone, without anyone to talk and to listen to. The more I care about anyone, and more of the impact they have.

I know your patience is much to ask for, and I know that you are given a lot to me already, but do not abandon me. I have not done it, I will not. If you can help me or not, I will get through this. Because I'm better than this.

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