Depression is a paradox.
The deadliest paradox you'll ever know.
Depression is perverse.
It makes the most beautiful things you knew
Suddenly out-of-reach
Your most wonderful memories only remind you that,
You'll never be happy again.
All that you've ever felt is now gone
You're condemned to see it disappear little by little
Until you don't even remember anymore
Until you
Become no one.
People will tell you to focus on the little things
But depression will make the simplest moments meaningless
The easiest tasks unbearable.
See, it's not a matter of will anymore
Depression takes the purpose of things away
It lefts you numb,
Indifferent
Restless
But still aching,
Somehow
Deep inside your heart and bones.
You see days, weeks, and months pass by,
Though every second is a fight in order to survive
You don't even know why you're still fighting,
Or who you're fighting for
Your body and mind are on autopilot.
You want to let it all go,
But the idea of an end to this life terrifies you
Depression won't even let you prononce it,
It stays there
Silent between your lips
Burning inside your throat
"Death"
"Death"
"Death".
Depression makes the outside too cold, or too hot
Too clear or too dark
Sunlight feels like it's burning your eyes
You feel weak,
Exhausted
But anxiety won't let you sleep
You feel sick,
Old
Like the dried leaves still hanging on the trees
Like the moon when the sun rises in the morning
Pale
And slowly fading.
You're craving for attention and love,
But depression won't let you see your friends
And it becomes so hard
To even text them back sometimes.
You want them to see that you're fighting,
To be convinced that you won't give up
But you're always
Too sad
Too tired
Too silent.
You regret everything you've ever been,
Everything you could have become
You no longer feel like yourself
The world seems,
More and more distant
In slow motion,
It almost feels
Peaceful.
Depression makes it hard to speak or even write
Everything feels so loud inside,
But it won't ever
Reach your mouth or fingers.
People can still see you
But you're just
Not there anymore.
Depression feels like you've stopped living,
But you're still existing.
You have no choice, but depression will ask you to make one
Only one
You know,
It might be the last.
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