My Depression Comes To Bed With Me

My depression is alive and well. It wakes me up at three o’clock in the morning. I look outside of my bedroom window and I wonder how many other lonely souls have been awaken by sadness tonight. I crawl back into my bed and I listen to the cars passing by. Where are they going at three o’clock in the morning? Wherever they are driving to, a sudden realization occurs: the Earth keeps rotating. Life keeps moving.

My lonely soul does not stop the lives of other people. No one comes up to my front door to comfort me. To tell me that I am okay. To reassure me that it is okay. To comfort me with touch. A hug is what I am so desperate for right now at three in the morning. I am lonely.

I meet Depression again at seven o’clock in the evening. We have a glass of wine together. Last night we shared a bottle of Urban Riesling. Tonight we both agreed on Merlot. We converse about how Depression has been ruining every part of me – physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. We are in a relationship. We have been for over two years.

I cry to Depression as I pour myself another glass of wine. My lips and teeth are now stained. It is a cue that I have had more than three glasses, but, it keeps us company as we talk about how Depression and I are not doing well, together.

I finish our bottle of Merlot. I end the conversation that has only brought tears to my half closed eyes. I take a bubble bath. I need to be alone. I open up a second bottle of wine and I test the bath water with my left foot. It is not hot enough for me. I need the water to leave redness on my skin. I need it to be burning hot.

I enter the bubble bath and Depression enters with me. I begin to cry again. This time depression does not sympathize. It does not even apologize. I do not have anything left to say to Depression. We are beyond fighting. There is nothing left worth fighting for.

I am alone now. Depression went for a walk. So he can think clearly and without my thoughts consuming his decisions. I crawl into bed with wet hair that I have no strength to brush. I light the candle on my nightstand. I feel nostalgic at this very moment. The smell reminds me of the time in my life before meeting Depression.

The smell of the Teak Wood makes me feel an utter sense of anger. Because my life will never be as it use to: purposeful and meaningful. I blow out the candle because I am not okay with having something burn that brings me a intense feeling of anger. I fall asleep. I cannot handle this overwhelming feeling. I have to be up in early morning tomorrow. Depression and I have a coffee date in the city.