Today, I still struggle; I’m still scared. My legs still buckle under me, my feet still fight me over the steps I take.
I look at the endless empty boxes of takeout, or I clean up after purging, or bandage bleeding wounds, but I see this as normal – I’ve never known anything else.
But maybe that’s why I love a show that features people back from the grave. Maybe I like playing make-believe a little too much. Any sort of fantasy I can sip on. Because Depression, oh she’s on every channel and I can’t mute her.
Nobody gets to tell you who the fuck you are, for one.
You met this amazing guy and thought he was the weirdest but most fascinating and beautiful person you’d ever met. But time passed and you thought wrong. He got away without any caution.
“Have faith. Have faith that on the other side of your pain is something good.”
We’re the manifestations of what antidepressants promise but can never achieve.
You feel so numb, yet everything hurts all over.
The best thing for me is to be bombarded by new and exciting experiences and when I rode out of London thats exactly what happened — I was cycling through amazing landscapes each day and living a life on the road that was fresh to me.
I wish I could tell my teachers that I’m honestly trying so hard.