Thought Catalog
June 8, 2017

This Is How I Would Explain Depression To Someone Who Doesn’t Understand It

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What is the issue?
Naletu

It’s like a fire in your chest that continues to burn after you die out.
It’s like being chained to the wind and being dragged around.
It’s throwing yourself at the world only to be rejected by your own mind screaming at you that you can’t do it.
It’s drowning.
It’s suffocating.
It’s burning from the inside out.

It’s not being able to get out of your bed for days on end.
It’s not being able to sleep for days,
Even when you’re ready to collapse.

It’s being so angry at the world that did nothing to you.
It’s becoming so miserable that only hurting other people helps.
It’s spitting vitriol towards undeserving people,
Just so you can cover your own thoughts screaming at you.

It’s having highs and lows.
But the only real highs are when you can take a step out of the house,
And the lows are slicing yourself open over and over again,
Just to wipe away the mental pain for a few seconds.
To stop the screaming in your mind,
And replace it with a burning and blistering pain of your blood spilling over.

It’s a fear of falling further down,
But how can you fall any further when you’re already at the bottom?

It’s trying to figure out how to finally end it all,
And not being scared of the afterlife,
But scared about the people you’ll be leaving behind.
How will they react?
Will they even react all?
Will they not care?
Who will find you?
How will they find you?
Will you ruin their mind like yours?

It’s like a wave,
It’s building and building until you crash into the ground.
Its being crushed, and molded into something that you can’t be.
It’s being kicked around and teased for something you can’t even control.
It’s having something ripped away from you over and over.
It’s finally having a moment of peace just to have it stolen away again and again
And again.

It’s being stuck.
It’s being trapped.
It’s like being buried alive.
It’s clawing your way out to try and find a way to survive,
But right as you scratch the surface,
You run out of air. TC mark

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