A Day In The Life With My Friend Depression

books on a bed
Felipe P. Lima Rizo

It’s 9 am. I wake up.

The bed is empty next to me.

It usually is these days.

I wrap myself further in my blankets and stay there, thinking of nothing in particular, until my mind is too numb to think of sadness.

I drag myself out of bed and walk downstairs to the kitchen.

I open the fridge and take out a container of plain yogurt.

I haven’t washed the dishes in days.

I grab a dirty spoon from the sink and quickly wash it.

I stand in the kitchen for a few moments unsure of what to do with myself.

For a moment I contemplate actually going into work, or maybe even heading to the gym.

But then I just drag myself to the couch like I do every day.

I watch Friends for the thousand time in a row and try to eat my yogurt.

But my mouth feels foreign and I can’t stand the idea of eating anything at all, so I just lay down instead.

Around 5 pm, I’ve finished the yogurt.

Friends is still playing.

Ross and Rachel are fighting again.

I call my mom.

She asks me what I’ve done today and I tell her that I’ve been “relaxing”.

Then, she asks me if I’ve made my doctors appointment yet.

I feel too bad to lie to her so I say “tomorrow”.

After our conversation, I decide it’s time for dinner.

I’m too tired to cook, and not very hungry.

I guess that yogurt has filled me up.

So I grab a banana and a glass of orange juice and spend the better part of two hours trying to keep it down.

I try to write but my mind can only produce sad anecdotes for everything.

So, I put on Friends again and look through Instagram at pictures of happy people.

There’s one girl in particular that I look at every day.

Her life is a dream that I wish I could live.

I download a book about infidelity.

It seems to have become my favorite topic.

And I read it with Friends on for background noise.

I can’t be alone in a quiet house.

Sometime after midnight, I make myself go upstairs.

I ponder taking a shower but quickly forget about that once I’m under my blanket.

I don’t fall asleep for awhile.

Colin comes home eventually and I pretend I’m sleeping.

He doesn’t touch me.

His back is to me an eventually I hear his quiet snoring.

It lulls me to sleep.

My last thought is “tomorrow will be better”.

It’s 9 am. I wake up.

The bed is empty next to me.

It usually is these days. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

I obsess over true crime, write sad poetry, and read too many books.

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