Depressed as Fuck [Completed]

Epilogue

I don't know exactly when it started.

Maybe it was the moment I realized I could sit in a room full of people and still feel utterly invisible. Or maybe it was when I stopped hearing my own voice, like it had been swallowed by a sea of thoughts that never stopped crashing against the shores of my mind.

The days all started to blend together, and the quiet in my room became louder than the noise outside it. I guess it doesn't matter.

I think about how once, I was able to feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, or the simple joy of a meal that tasted like something.

Now, I just... exist.

And even that feels like a battle. It wasn't always this way.

I wasn't always this way.

There was a time when I felt alive, when I laughed, when I had hope. I remember what it felt like to look forward to things. What it felt like to care.

But that was a long time ago, and everything that came after just seems like a blur, a constant fog that pulled me deeper and deeper until I couldn't see out anymore.

I've stopped eating. I've stopped trying. The hunger is still there, but it's not the kind that makes your stomach ache. It's the kind that takes everything out of you, piece by piece, until there's nothing left but emptiness.

I can feel my body getting weaker, but it doesn't matter.

My mind is already somewhere else---fading away too.

I know what people must think. My family knocks on my door, they leave food outside, they send texts, but it doesn't reach me.

I'm not sure it ever will.

Sometimes, I hear my sister calling my name, asking if I'm okay, but even her voice feels distant now. Like an echo from another world, one I can no longer belong to.

I don't answer.

I don't know how to explain. I don't know how to make them understand that I'm not really here anymore. Not in the way they need me to be.

I thought about reaching out again. I thought about opening the door, picking up the phone, telling someone---anyone---that I wasn't okay.

That I was drowning in silence.

But then I remember how it always ends. How the words get stuck, how they don't seem to matter. And the emptiness rushes in to fill the space where those words were supposed to go.

Sometimes, I wonder if anyone would even notice if I just... slipped away.

I try not to think about that. But the thoughts are like shadows now, lurking in the corners of my mind, whispering things I don't know how to ignore.

There's a part of me that wishes they would go away, that maybe I could feel something else again. But I don't know how to make that happen.

I don't know how to find my way back to the girl who used to care.

The bed is cold now.

The room feels colder every day.

I've stopped looking at the clock, because time feels like a blur.

The days don't matter. The nights don't matter. Everything blurs together into one long, endless stream of nothingness.

I'm starting to fade.

And I don't know if I'll ever come back.

It's not the pain that scares me anymore. It's the fact that I feel nothing at all. That there's nothing left to hold on to. That even the smallest part of me, the part that once cared about things, is slipping away.

I can hear the voices in the distance now, but they sound muffled, like they're coming from far away, from a place I can't reach.

A place I don't think I want to.

I want to say something. I want to shout for help. I want to scream until someone hears me, but all I can do is listen. Listen to the silence closing in around me.

And then, the thought comes again. The thought I've been trying to push away.

What if I just let go?

The room is dark now. I don't know when it happened. I don't know when the light faded completely.

I wish I could have been stronger.

I wish I could have fought.

I wish someone had seen me before it got this bad.

But it's too late now. There's nothing left to do but wait. Wait for the silence to swallow me whole. Wait for the fading to be complete.

I don't know when I'll be gone, but I feel it coming.

Slowly.

Quietly.

And maybe that's okay.

---

lironove