Depression short stories and poems

Longer stories to read

Love comes in different ways. You feel insecure and hopeless that they won't love you back and when they find out how much you mean to them you feel ecstatic. You have those moments where you could cry your eyes out at night with mascara running down your cheeks while looking at your alarm clock watching the glowing digits slowly change. You can't help but overthink knowing you're not good enough for them and they deserve better. Then you have those moments when you just stop texting for the pain of missing them kills you and texting them makes you miss them more.
You have crazy moments at 1 am where you say whatever the fuck comes to your mind and you both act high because it's so damn funny. Then you have those moments where you will argue back and forth all night because of something stupid like who stole the cookie from who. Or he said she said moments. But in the end it comes down to trust and sacrifice. Sure we are all spoiled with love and attention from them. Everyone is. However... the drugs, the sex, and make-outs for five fucking seconds and listen. When you find someone that cares for your safety and happiness more than their own personal needs and desires. That's when you know it's love.
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I will never understand people sometimes. When you're told one thing but see the opposite. You see your life flashing before you sometimes at an enchanted speed that's too fast for you to handle. You soon see your life to begin dying in photos right in front of you... Soon everything will just be a faint memory that once meant the world to you now means nothing... At 1 am you'll be lying in bed thinking what the fuck was I thinking then!? And then you'll have those moments at 6 am where you didn't get a wink of sleep and just laid there all day overthinking about life and how worthless you are... Sometimes I think we need to get away from it all. Leave... And just escape life. It is one of those nights where you can't cry yourself  to sleep, can't make a single tear in your flesh with a metal pen... But just had to simply disappear... From it all. Leave life and wander out into the unknown. Even if that means you have to walk through it alone.
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I know how you feel... To be yelled at everyday, told your worthless and ugly. You look like shit and don't deserve to live. Your friends hate you, your family abuses you. You've gotten beaten up, your grades are dropping and it's all moving by so quickly you can't take this much pressure at once. You see your life flashing before you in images... Too fast... And it won't stop. I understand the feeling of wanting to die, knowing you'll never find someone that loves you back or for who you really are, to be heart broken and crying yourself to sleep. I understand having to wear long sleeves and pants, plastering a fake smile on my face just to get through the day without being questioned about my stability. You're not alone. I know you feel like shit today, you feel fucked up and want to die... But I'm here to tell you you're worth it. It's okay to be upset. It's okay to want to cry and feel like you're worthless some days. It's okay to cut, it's okay to yell, and scream. It's okay... To kill yourself, if it ends your pain... I know it sounds crazy, that I just said it's okay to kill yourself... But it is okay. Because it's selfish to make someone stay living... If it hurts them. If you really cared... Let them... Have free will... Over their life... But the point is, before it's too late... Before you hold that gun, or tie that knot in rope, swallow the pills or swipe that blade, You need to know how much we care. about you. And how much mean to world... How much... You mean... To me.
-
Alice couldn't escape. Wonderland was her hideaway. Filled with pencil sharpeners and knives. She tried to escape but the stinging sensation of blood made her feel great always drawing her closer to her heart. Every time she cut, a new gateway was opened.
It was of one day the gateway to the Mad tea party opened. Alice had a tea party with the hatter. It was quite mad you should say. The tea was poured out of a porcelain tea set that looked like something a little girl would have back in the day, however it was old and sorta creepy as if trying to bring back childhood memories.
The guests slowly arrived but what was odd was they each were made of stuffed animals... Sorta like a voodoo doll. Their eyes were gone leaving the open space hollow. The Madd Hatter looked more mad than usual. His expression had a wicked smile with bursting green eyes. His tall brimmed top hat was a bit rusty
so it looked a bit worn and old fashioned. He had a faded orange fabric wrapped tightly around the hat just above the base of the hat. Pins, needles, and knives were tucked inside the orange fabric just peeking half of it out of the hat just enough to see the sharp blade
Alice watched content as the Mad Hatter poured the tea into the tea cups a dark red poured out. It was blood. His frail hands were bony with a white leathery skin. He looked as if he hasn't eaten in days.
All the guests drank the tea as it was served, Alice was a bit skeptical and but she was under wonderland's spell and drank the blood. As the guests drank the blood it started to come right back out of their body from the bloody hollow eye sockets. Streaming down their face it was a frightening thing to see.
Alice soon for the urge to leave but was soon strangled by the Cheshire Cat. His wicked smile was cut open. I'm sorry, but you're not going anywhere he said while holding a blade to her skin.
Alice strangled against the cat that was now chocking her. She soon threw him off and ran deeper into the forest. She soon came to a morbid sight of the Queen of Hearts castle.
Alice must kill her, she was the wicked woman that had put this evil spell on wonderland. Surprisingly the guards were all in the courtyard painting white roses red... However it wasn't red paint. "Why hello Alice, I've been expecting you." The Queen of Hearts said. Alice slowly looked up to see a woman that looked like she took a blood bath. Her skin was pale white but her lips were a bloody red. Her eyes were murderous and her hair was flashing the color of red tied up in a braided bun. Her bright bold red dress consisted of roses that were red with black lace.
The Queen was apparently getting impatient so she started to tap her foot. "Alice I know why you're here. It's simple. You want to kill me." She stated. "How..." Alice started to say but soon the Cheshire Cat appeared by her side with that bloody grin of his. Alice got frustrated. The Queen smirked at drew out a sharp knife. "You know... The Mad Hatter was a distraction... While you drank the blood my cat was supposed to kill you. But yes the blood the Mad Hatter poured was from all my victims blood. I live off blood Alice. You see my whole rose garden isn't painted with paint, it's painted with blood. I think yours will make a perfect addition to the Mad Hatter's collection. You see, he has a thing for you... So innocent and sweet, but just a bit of poison and you'll be dead." The Queen spoke humble and innocent enough to scare you. "So here is what you want if I'm not mistaken." She said handing me the knife. "Kill me." Alice was confused. How was killing the Queen going to kill her? The magic of wonderland took over and Alice slashed at the Queen. she pierced her heart in one cut. Killing the Queen. But as soon as she did she fell to the ground. The Cheshire Cat was the only one left besides the guards to notice the whole episode. "You know... The Queen was Alice. That's why she died... She killed herself. Alice made up this whole wonderland in her head. So you must kill wonderland... Before it kills you."
(If any confusion is given wonderland represents Alice's 'depressed world' where she think she can escape but can't. You must destroy depression itself or it will destroy you.)
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Sometimes I just want someone to take my hand and tell me everything is going to be alright. Stroke my hair and hug me, giving me this nice warm feeling at the crack of dawn. Kiss my cheek and promise to be by my side every step of the way. Wether I'm having a panic attack in the middle of school or am crying myself to sleep with mascara running down my face. (Like the Lone Ranger from the movie Johnny Depp stars in 😂) But other times I just want to be left alone. Left alone to let my thoughts wander. To think about what I've done to hurt people and how they hurt me. Think of ways I can be stronger... But then I buckle down... And start to wonder... Is it possible to be strong? Is it possible to put down that blade? Then before I can decide salty tears slowly trickle down my face as I write in silver and it comes out red on my skin. As I feel the flesh being ripped apart I feel relief but at the same time... I feel regret... Resentment... Hatred. I won't be fine. I will never be just okay. I need you
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I hate it when people don't keep up with life. Sometimes I'll just be walking and see someone I haven't seen in ages stop and talk with me... They will ask how school is going... In my head I'll be thinking how it's shit, while in reality I'll say I'm doing pretty well. Then... They start asking how your family is. Like how your sister is, or maybe your cousin. Then they suddenly bring up a name... You haven't heard in a long time. They will ask... How... Is your mother? Then your voice will tremble and shake... She... She died... Then you feel bad, because you don't want a shitty apology, or a fucked up hug. You just then... Want to be left alone. But you know... Sometimes we have to accept the fact people died, and that people will ask what happened. They aren't trying to make you sad, or feel bad... In fact, in the end they are just trying to help. But we are humans, and anger and sadness gets in the way. So we lash out at people... And end up hurting them, or blaming them for our mistakes. Deep down, we know it's all our fault, which is why we end up destroying ourselves... staying up all night not getting sleep, crying your eyes out, or cutting. It's admitting our sins, and shows that we want a punishment for our crimes. Can't people just accept that?
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A girl walks into a room. Glass is surrounding her on the walls all around her. Every time she turned she saw a different person. In one mirror she saw a girl that was rather obese. In the one to her right she saw a girl that was hideous and had crooked teeth that were painted yellow, she had lots of warts all over her face, and her hair was all burned out. In the mirror to her left she saw a girl that was weak and couldn't hold on anymore. The one behind her showed a girl who was deeply sick and couldn't recover. Soon the images in the mirrors changed to show bad things happening in each. They all showed distant memories of her being called ugly, fat, worthless, not strong... And the voices pounded in her head all at once. She screamed, a piercing scream so loud all the mirrors around her shattered. The broken glass fell on her and made cuts on her. Blood dripped on her wrists and legs, stomach, thighs, shoulders.... Everywhere. You know... This sorta describes depression. You see yourself being called worthless so many times... You start to believe it, you see so much bad in you, so everything they ever said to you hurts you. Thus making you cut (like the glass shards. Those were the people hurting you causing you to cut) but in the end... You destroyed their evil demonic hatred. But destroying their hatred destroys you. You tried over and over... To believe you are beautiful... But can't you see? Your mirror's broken... Go get a fucking new one! You are strong... Beautiful... And you are what you are in your heart. If other people can't see that... Don't let them in your mirror. Shove them into their own prison of mirrors because you're done with them. It's possible to  recover. And it's possible to see how beautiful you are. So stop hitting the mirror... Stop making it cracked harder for you to see your true self. It's foggy room... You're not you. If you think that girl or boy hitting the mirror... Cutting... And crying to sleep is you... Your wrong. It's not, and you can find yourself. If you need help I'm always here.
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And she was alone... No family... No friends... And no lover... Just her. She cried herself to sleep. Tired of the verbal and physical abuse...But sometimes it's ok to be upset... To be alone... It shows you can make it through this fucked up world without help. Yeah... Love it's nice. But what's the point in loving someone who will never love you back.... Who will always look at her in a way that he'll never look at you for... But one thing I promise you is... She doesn't love him as much as you do... she doesn't want him as much as you do... Because when you have someone ... You take it for granted... But when you don't have someone... They're always on your mind... You lay awake looking at the glow in the dark star stickers just to thinking would it would be like... To be loved... But it's all fake. The society, the words, the feelings. You sold your heart to someone and you can't get a refund. You are forever trapped in a hell... Of torment and pain. But... I promise you... The person your looking for could never come looking For you... But you'll have me... I'm not perfect, no one is. But I'm funny, I can make you smile when you need a friend... I can make you laugh at my fucked up life stories, and I can make you feel special about yourself. Because unlike the damn society... I'm different. You probably hear that a lot... But how many times have you heard it being told lies... Verses the truth? What I'm trying to say is... I love you... And I will walk this painful journey alone, but I'd rather share it with you.
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Well look... Everyone goes through bad stuff, some worse than others yes. But you choose to live another day, although you feel the pain and know it's real you choose to live. We think it's easier to take it out on ourselves... Because we don't want to believe that someone that states they love us so much would actually do something as far as to hurt us... But they do. You feel like you aren't living for yourself but merely living for others so they won't be so depressed and miserable. But look. I know it's hard...
You feel bad so you cut
You were bullied so you cut
You are abused so you cut
You are scared so you cut
You are heart broken so you cut
It's not worth it. End the end... It's not worth all the pain and suffering for one person to take in. It's not meant for that. You can choose to look at the glass half empty or half full. You choose to be depressed. When you look into the mirror and call yourself ugly. Maybe it's because you heard it so many times you started to believe it. But you didn't have to believe it. Maybe... They were wrong. Maybe it's the society's problem. It's not always yours. And yes at times you will fuck up.. But I'll be here for you. If you say everyone leaves ... Well...  Everyone doesn't include me. I'm not everyone. Me friend was depressed all though out 7th grade. Guess Wat? I still check on her to this day. Me Exs that are depressed. Still check on them to this day. I will be here for you. It may not seem like it at times but I am here for people 24/7. I get yelled at all the time for being on my phone at the table but actually it's because I'm talking to some depressed person. I'm pretty much up all night talking to people to make them cheer up. You say it's impossible to be happy... But the only thing holding it back is you. You choose to be unhappy. Yes... I know you didn't choose for your life to be like this. Hell, I didn't choose for mine to be the way it is either. But you don't have to walk this world Alone. I'll be here for you, until the very end
-
(His perspective)
They were just children, when he first eyed her. She was cute. Her strawberry blonde curls shimmered in the sunlight, and as a soft breeze passes by through her hair it makes her seem almost... Enchanting. Her green eyes sparkled like emeralds, and as she grew older she went from cut and adorable to simply gorgeous. She was super nice, and made great grades. She loved to play the piano, composing songs into the night. Working hard every night only by the soft ember glow of the candle. The wax slowly dripping on her paper, but she never noticed... She was too deep into her music to pay any attention to the wax, to the burns, and even to me. We are neighbors, and every single night I look out my window just to see her... She never as much glances at me... But it's nice to see her calm... And consumed with her passions.
(Her perspective)
He was her everything. They were just children when they met, but he had the cutest smile. It was impossible to be sad near him. His eyes were electrifying blue, and his heart was pure and honest. He inspired her all the time. She carefully watched him from the  distance. He was so compassionate and sweet. He always put others first and that made her fall in love. She decided to write him a song to show her love for him. She always worked late at night writing her a song but the little light of her wax candle. Always staying up past curfew just for him. They were neighbors, his curtains to his window were always closed tightly shut, but every so often they ruffled back and forth. She heard the distinct sounds of his video games, and could tell when he lost. The light from the tv in his room flickered, casting shadows reflecting on the curtains. as of one day I finished my song for him. I ran off to his house and knocked on his door. No answer...
I headed out to town to see if I could find him at the library, his favorite place to hang out. But I froze when I saw him with my best friend. They were both smiling, each held a mug of coffee to keep them warm . Her cheeks were rosy and her lips chapped. They were sitting outside of a coffee shop in our local town. He pressed his warm chapped lips against her friend, and that was the end. Hatred burned everywhere... But she held strong...
It was of later that night that things started to get odd. The boy sat down playing video games as normal, then he heard a scream in the distance coming from her house. He brushed the curtains aside and saw her... She went mental. Her wax candle was tipped over, lying on her worn wooden desk creating a spark. Soon a fire started, spreading quick. Her eyes were filled with terror. She was mad, crazy, insane... She took her keyboard in her room and sling it against the wall, and instantly all the keys snapped, bent, and broken. Chords from random keys being pressed down creating a horrific nosies.
(His perspective)
I ran to her house and kicked the door open. It wouldn't budge, so I kicked it until the wood split and the hinges opened. The sound of the smoke detector could be clearly heard throughout the house. But no trace of her parents were found. He ran to her room, to see the firue. Smoke fumes filled her room. All he could see was a thick misty cloud. He quickly looked for a phone, but couldn't find any but a rotary phone. So he quickly spun the dial to 911 and the police and firemen Shortly arrived. After the fire died down, no human could be savaged but the girl. The remains to her song were burned out but stuck in her back pocket a cassette tape was found. It was labeled "For Matthew" He boy played it, and it had her song she wrote for me on it. He listened to some of it and then paused the tape to think for a second. He gave a faint smile, but deep down inside he felt like a monster. He felt guilt for he should've told her how he felt for her. But he was scared. A coward, a loser, a retard. Maybe he thought... He could be with her...I can make my suicide look like an accident. He thought. But then he accidentally pushed "play" on the system and the end of her song finished up but a note was left after it. she said:
"I loved you since we were young. I'm glad you can finally smile again, even though I'm not the person making you smile... If you're happy, I'm happy. my presence is no longer needed, but I will always remember you dear friend. This is the end, but yet the beginning all at once."
-
Look... I know it's hard, but go back to that room... Memories are flooded throughout it, terrible ones... That you don't want to remember. I'm not forcing you to remember them, I'm telling you it's important to remember the mistakes we made in the past. No one wants to re-live the horrible  tragedy that went on... But we can't learn from our mistakes unless we face them and accept the fact it happened.
So go back, open that same worn wooden door... Slowly turn the handle like you did every time when sneaking out to go somewhere late at night... Soon the terror fills your eyes. Your vision goes blurry. Then the image appears as clearly as it did 10 years ago... Shattered glass is everywhere... Broken blades... Blood stained on the carpet... A cracked mirror... Empty liquor bottles... A burned out light bulb barely flickering... Take a deep breath... And go pull out that box underneath your bed... Wipe the dust off... You slowly open the box... and a soft eerie sound of music plays while a little ballerina twirls, revolving her pirouette. It was a jewelry box... Inside was a broken glass doll, used burned cigarettes, countless suicide notes... You pick one up to read it. Your old sloppy handwriting was all loopy and a huge red scribbles marked out through the note. Underneath it was a neatly scrawled handwriting... It read:
Dear Sidney,
If you die... I'm coming down with you. There is no point in trying to fix the horrible hell your trapped in for I cannot stop you. I seem to not be worth the time or effort, but alas... I will seen you soon and we can finally be happy together in love.
-Michael
I couldn't stop crying that night. He died but I didn't. I was stuck here and he was stuck there. It was like two different dimensions but we were still connected by the thread of love. I could feel his heart beating within me and I felt the pins and needles piercing his head as he read this long ago... I could feel his heart beat slowly coming to a stop, and his respiratory system was clogged. His face turned pale and soon all the blood rushed from his face, and he closed his eyes. Blood seeped, soaked the carpet and it was all pouring out from a single closet. I slowly opened the door... To see a horrific sight. My friend... Was hanging from a noose inside the closet. His neck bone was snapped... Cracked skull... Scars and scuffs covered his arms. His hands were clamped together in fists. I saw a small tiny scrawled note in his hand... I slowly pried his first apart and spread out the crumpled paper. It clearly said:
"I believe it was around midnight when I heard this strange eerie call in the night. I was tucked away in my bed, but wasn't asleep, because my anxiety was acting up. My curiosity got the best of me so I tiptoed through the pitch black hallway to make my way to our wooden paneled door. I slowly unlocked it and wedged myself through the small crack of the door. As soon as I was outside all I saw was misty fog. It was thick and I couldn't see beyond clearly. This time I heard the sound again, but could distinctly make it out to be a cry. A cry of a girl. I was horrified. What could've the girl seen? Did she get hurt? I ran toward the woods in a fast sprint. Vines blocked the path, and moss made my feet slip, but I pushed on.
I approached the center of the woods and saw a broken wooden bed frame with no mattress, and an bathtub with dirty water spilling out. The ground was soft and the air was silent. As if the sound was never there. I then heard it one last time. The cry of a girl could be made out deep down in the bathtub water. I was confused, and scared to look into the tub, but I had to save this girl. I held my breath and looked into the tub, to see a girl screaming, from drowning in water. I tried to save her, but she pushed me away and kept screaming out for help."
Wtf, this didn't make sense.
But then it clicked in my head. This girl... Was me.
(The girl screaming is supposed to represent someone crying out for help in depression, drowning in their own sorrow pushing people away because they don't want help. While the girl hearing the cry for help, didn't realize what pain she used to be in when she was a child. It's all basically a hallucination to realize what she was and had now become. Still haunted by doe depression but that didn't stop her from trying to help someone else. Even if that person she needed to help was herself. )
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Yeah, I suppose it hurts to know you're happy without me. It hurts to know other people can cheer you up and I can't. It hurts that I always get left behind. Because that's just it. I leave everyone behind... Or do they leave me? It's hard to keep in touch with those who you care about when you're struggling to find the light when you're trapped in a world of darkness yourself. When your last match slowly dims and dies, and all the hope, happiness, and warmth is gone. When you hold out your hand, to feel nothing back in return. But I guess that's how it works in this world. We sacrifice ourselves for the ones we love, because if we truly love them, you'll let them be free. And you're left to suffer. Suffer alone. Die alone. And feel absolutely nothing. Because that's all you really are. A worthless piece of shit that no one cares about. But... Then you meet someone in your life, who finds a match, and gives you their light. Their spark of hope and their love. But then... You foolish little demon... Take their happiness away, just like your friend took yours away. And now, this good friend of yours, is trapped. Trapped in a hellish game. And it's all your fault. I hope you're happy with your life, and how you chose to affect me. But, it doesn't matter anymore does it? I suppose not. I don't show emotion. I don't cry in public, or behind closed doors. I withstand the pain from everyone, and in this dark cold room I stay, sitting here from day to day. I sit here lying, that all of me isn't dying. I can't bear these feelings anymore. But I promise I'm okay. I've always been according to you. This door is locked, and my face is tearless. But my blood cries for me instead. Oh gosh, I think I'm drowning, in my own madness. Don't worry, don't be in a hurry. It's ok, the room is locked, I'm tucked away, and you'll find out I'm dead, some other day.