how comforting is to come home to yourself at the end of the day and know you have every excuse to never leave your couch or finish the pint of ice cream or forget all your responsibilities.
the longer sadness lingers, the more it makes itself at home and before you know it, sadness has become your cane. it steals your will and your light, but you feed it with your own two hands because it's comforting. you never just feel— you feel. feel it all, the entire library of emotions.
because when you're depressed, you're not just sad or just tired or just happy. there's no words in the english language to describe how you're feeling.
everything — everything — is just so. much. more.
and you know that one day, maybe, you'll be okay again. the sadness, your cane, won't stay forever.
but then, the sky will cease to be a delicate dance of sapphire and diamonds. the sky will just be blue. the sun is no longer a warm, silky, golden bath kissing your skin. the sun is once again just yellow. and bright. and annoying. pain won't bring you to your knees and drown you with its dangerous and monstrous waves. pain will be a hiccup in your day, a quick cry in the bathroom easily and quickly fixed with a bar of chocolate.
and yourlaugh...your laugh won't weigh the weight of the world and conceal all your secrets and scars. your laugh doesn't sound like the sound of a pained piano hauntingly overlaying a bittersweet melody. your laugh won't cost you a piece of your soul nor will it mean you were laughing just to divert curious eyes from asking questions.
you'll just...laugh. and won't even think twice of it.
because when you lose the sadness within you, a small doorin you closes. things that used to seem impossible to accomplish are done without a second thought. the energy slowly floods your bones like it did before and getting out of bed isn't worth a celebration anymore. time moves fast again. things become less valuable, less symbolic.
depression makes you see things you didn't see before— like the flower blooming through the crack on the sidewalk or the loose thread on your comforter. it slows you down. and it may hurt like there's no tomorrow, but...
it teaches you to look at things with love.
to long for things you already have. to see the small things that make the biggest difference in your day. we often forget to thank what we learned from our sadness, from our pain.
it was never the enemy, it was only a mirror.
happiness might be the end goal, but it's so different from sadness. it's hard to appreciate the shape of a tree when you're too happy to slow down at look at it. happy people don't get praise for brushing their teeth or taking a shower or even just waking up in the first place.
maybe it's stockholm syndrome, but sadness isn't painful, it's comforting.
and i find myself missing it on the days when i'm happiest.
