My Neverland

Three: Depression

I'm gonna explain this the same way I explained it to my little brother.

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The dictionary definition of Depression is:

de·pres·sion

dəˈpreSH(ə)n/

noun

1.

feelings of severe despondency and dejection.

"self-doubt creeps in and that swiftly turns to depression"

2.

a long and severe recession in an economy or market.

"the depression in the housing market"

synonyms:    recession, slump, decline, downturn, standstill

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For these purposes, we'll only use the first definition.

"Feelings of severe despondency and dejection." I'd say that's a quite emotionless way of saying it, but yes.

Usually, Depression, for me anyway, comes in the form of a vortex, or, a tornado, with winds of at least 125mph. It swirls around and around, and flying inside it, forever stuck in a powerful form of centripetal force, are my self-hate, insecurities, my regrets. But, also swirling around, seen less often, however, is my happiness.

I picture those things flying around like targets, painted a violent orange, with a vicious black dot on the bullseye.

Now, this.. Tornado, this Vortex- is fenced in. A huge, metal, chain-link fence on four sides, surrounding it. There's a gap in one side, allowing me to be pulled in, but nothing pushed out.

Luckily, I have people that stand at that door, that gap, and catch me as I get pulled in, stopping me. These people, or persons, are the reason I'm alive.

My therapist, or, Counselor, as he likes to be called, tells me, "Stop living for other people. Live for you."

But what of the only reason you're still alive is because of other people? What then?

Next to this Vortex is a raised wooden platform. On this platform stand people I know; friends, family, teachers. Even I stand on that platform sometimes. They, we- stand and throw knives. Knives carved with horrible words.

Slut.

Bitch.

Ugly.

Worthless.

Whore.

Nothing.

These knives are thrown at the targets that mark whatever is flying around my Vortex.

My self-hate.

My insecurities.

My regrets.

What's left of my happiness.

Except, they only hit one thing. What do they hit, you might ask. But I think you already know. Hit your enemy in it's weak spots, right?

So, of course, they hit my happiness. So my happiness gets torn to shreds because of this sickness I have, this illness I cannot cure.

My Depression.