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Having a period of depression does some strange things to
you. The world can be the sunniest place, people can still smile at you
cheerily, children can laugh and cry, the sun can warm your skin, the sky can
be clear and blue, but its still as grey as winter.
Concentration seems an impossible task, from a physical and
psychological standpoint. You’re too exhausted to see and hear, nothing is
pleasing to look at as the magic effect that the whole world is grey is carried
indoors with you. Everything seems like a murmur and a blur. And you all you
feel capable of doing is sitting there, wondering, dazing far off into the
future, hoping, fearing and dwelling on what the future is holding for you; each
challenge, each pitfall, each second of suffering. And then you look up to the
pieces of blank paper in front of you like it is a piece full of scribbles and
hieroglyphics, it makes no sense and you don’t see the point in trying to make
any sense of it. What looked familiar to you a few months ago now looks like aliens
wrote it.
Sleep is a fucked up thing too. You don’t get tired in the typical
way; not in a way that feels pleasant or relaxing. You feel tired in a way that
your mind is rotting away and your lungs have been sucked dry of oxygen, as if
you’re with some kind of terminal illness that is slowly killing you.
You see chaos in everything. The floor, the buildings, the
sky, the walls, the laughter of the children on the street, even the glow of
the sun- it all sounds and looks so twisted and wrong; like I’m in some kind of
nightmare. The floor looks so cracked and broken, the buildings seemingly
random, distorted and towering over you like monsters in suspended animation.
Then the children’s manic laughter, with their twisted smiles and bloodthirsty
cackling all laughing upon me, feeding off my joy and sense of worth; gorging
on it with sickening pleasure that fills their throats with my afterglow, and
they belch it all out in demonic laughter and screaming. It drives you to
insanity, asking all the big questions. Why me? Why am I here? Am I dead? Am I
alive? Am I in Heaven, Limbo or Hell?
These delusions are not one of my imagination; these
things I see and feel seem very real. I just want it to stop… I’m begging for
help like a man that’s drowning in the ocean. Screaming, crying out for anyone
who could be there in a world that’s seemingly infinite and uninhabitable.
If you feel anything like this, I'm sorry, but you need help. I'm not talking about help from your friends, I mean someone who truly knows what they're talking about. Someone who talks to people that see the world like this every day, you need professional help. And judging upon my experiences, you don't have much time to act before you try to end it all; to kill yourself to end all this madness.
The world is a sick, vile place.
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