-AN-
Hello, everybody. If you read the description, you will know that this is a single chapter explanation of depression. There's not much else to say, other than I am always here for anyone who should need to talk.
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"I'm here for you."
"You're never alone."
Or, the far the more infuriating,
"I know how you feel."
These words are breathed to people like us on a daily basis, aren't they? Those you deem your closest friends and family; they all say it. But despite the fact that probably all mean it, they never quite live up to their standards, do they?
When you're crying yourself into suffocation at silly o'clock in the morning, what are they doing?
Sleeping.
When the pristine blade is dragged across your wrist, blood dripping like water from a faucet, where are they then?
Probably not thinking about you, that's certain.
And when the only one accompanying you, is the blackness in your heart, or the demons in your head,
You're alone.
However, no one seems to understand that.
There's a lot of meanings behind the statement:
I'm tired.
Well, let's be honest, that's really only half the statement, isn't it? What you really mean is;
I'm tired- Of this bullshit.
I'm tired- Of feeling worthless.
I'm tired- Of life.
However, to ensure you're friends don't worry, you don't say the last half.
And so, you get up in the morning. Lethargic to face the upcoming day, but you know you have to. There's people you need to see; things you have to do.
So, you leave the warm embrace of your bed, and get up. Your legs shake as you elevate yourself upon them. They're weak. As if they want to pack in, and can't support the added weight of this dark burden any longer. But you're relentless, determined to get through the day; not matter how hard or painful it is.
After going through your normal routine, doing whatever you can to reduce the dark circles beneath your eyes. Whether it be extra foundation, or cold splashes of water.
Practicing your smile, you sigh. It's like this all day, every day.
Tch, listen to me. Reminiscing to you what you already know; as if it's a story.
Ah well, what can you do? I write stories. One shots mostly; but you're not here to read about that.
Let me get to the point. You were here for an explanation, and you'll get it.
Depression. Everybody knows what it is, but not many understand it well.
Depression, it's a disorder to the logical.
Joke to the ignorant.
Disease to the affected.
When you're depressed, you feel a weight sit itself on your heart. Yes, it may sound like a metaphor, however, it's not. Your heart genuinely does feel heavy, it aches. Ricochets off of your ribs violently with every beat.
Every now and again, tears will threaten to spill from your eyes with no warning. You'll snap, hurt yourself, regret it. But it's the only way to make the pain go away.
Yeah... I thought-...Think so, too.
It's true, I'm depressed. And no, I'm not just saying that. Nowadays, people seem to be turning depression into a fashion trend.
But you can always tell the fakers from the genuines.
For instance, the fakers seem to have no trouble broadcasting their 'misery'. And will tell anyone and everyone about their 'feelings'. They'll show their scars, usually always deep, and smile while they do it.
The genuines, however, keep it all to themselves. Only telling those they trust. Those who had to spend years gaining the trust of the person. Their feelings they keep locked inside; no matter how much it hurts. No matter how close it pushes them to their limit.
They hide their scars. Usually with a long-sleeved shirt, bracelets, sometimes they mask them with foundation or bandage them up.
The scars they bare won't necessarily be deep. Yes, some of them will be. The kind of scars that draws streams and streams of blood. However, some look like no more than cat scratches. These scars will be inflicted when said person hurts themself, however, with more remorse than they usually do.
The majority of you will be thinking;
Wait, if she is depressed, then why is she broadcasting it? She said the depressed don't do that...
True. However, I want to give all of you out there someone to relate to. Someone who you can trust. Well, moderately.
You can't really trust anyone in this world, can you?
Thought not.
Nobody gets it though, do they?
Yeah, I know.
You'll be thinking to yourself,
"She's gonna finish with the cliché ending. 'I'm there for you all, you're not alone'"
But no, I'm not. Men, women. Boys, girls.
I'm a student. Still attending school. My sleep is important, so I can't say I'll be there in the early morning.
I don't have WiFi at home, only at my nana's who I see often, yet not every day. So I can't guarantee I'll be there at all on a certain day.
I get selfishly caught up in my own problems at times. Often becoming paranoid as I turn out my light, and therefore not being able to sleep. Only concentrating on the words resounding within my own mind.
Yeah, I'm no saint. I'm human, after all.
But if I can promise one thing to all of you reading this, it's that when I am there. When I can be of assistance to those in need of help, I will do it. I will be there to the best of my abilities. I'm not good with words, and sometimes I say the most cliché things in the book, but I can try to give the advice you need.
Thank you for reading this, I hope those without the curse understand now. Also, I'm free to give advice to those who know someone battling depression.
Feel free to talk to me,all of you. Male and female, I don't discriminate. Whether you're depressed because you're tormented due to your sexual orientation, or the colour of your skin. Or maybe simply because of who you are.
I'm here for you all.
