The Deepest Demons (18+)

One evening

Every day for the last eight months has been steadily getting worse. It all started when my son was killed in a car accident. I was devastated obviously and it took me everything I had to pull myself through it and put a brave face on for my family. They say time heals any scar but that's a load of bullshit. Months went by and it had seemed everyone had forgotten about my terrible loss and got back to their mundane lives, I hadn't forgotten! Not a day went past when I couldn't recall that moment when my life ended. I went back to work and at first people tip toed around me, after a short while it was as if it had never happened and I had to just get on with my everyday life. I felt broken, I couldn't think straight and everyday tasks seemed almost impossible but I had to pretend I was fine. I went for days at a time without eating a thing and my sleep pattern became so messed up. Some nights I'd sleep a solid six hours but others I would sit up all night just staring at the wall. It's now got to the point that just getting out of bed in the morning seems like a mammoth task. I break down in tears every day. I feel ashamed that I can't be the man my family needs so I just keep my feelings bottled up. Recently though I feel it's taken a step too far and I can't cope with the pressure and the stress on my shoulders. I've walked out of my job a number of times as I felt I couldn't take the strain another day. Only to go back in the following day grovelling for my job back because I know it's best for my family. Suicide seems like my only option but I'm too afraid to do it. I don't want to leave my family with anymore pain to deal with. I feel like a fucking pussy and it frustrates me that I can't do anything about it. I'm Andy Marshal and I have severe chronic depression.

The group applauded Andy for his bravery to finally open up about his feelings and for a brief moment he felt relieved he had shared his story. He wiped his eyes and tried to compose himself. One by one the other members of the group patted him on the back and hugged him. It was an important moment in group therapy when someone new expresses themselves and overcomes the fear to talk about their feelings. For the first time in months he felt in control of his life but this wasn't a permanent fix. No, this was just a mere memory of what it felt like for normal people. A small glimmer of hope of the fraudulent happiness from sharing his grief. He breathed a sigh of relief which felt like the most beautiful gasp of air he'd ever taken in.

After an hour or so of listening to the group discuss their mental health Andy was no longer feeling his buzz, in fact it was the complete opposite. He'd gone from a long awaited high to an unsettling low and was pleased when the session had come to an end. He couldn't understand how sitting a group of men and women in a room together talking about depression was supposed to lift you out of it. As he stood up and headed for the door he noticed the other members chatting and smiling with one another. The atmosphere seemed quite happy to be fair and they were all giving off the appearance of joyful people. Dark thoughts began to fill Andy's head.

"What the fuck's wrong with me?" He muttered under his breath

"Why can't I be as happy as these? Am I that lost that I can't find happiness in other people's triumph?"

He began to doubt himself, and the thought of him ever being happy again seemed like a distant dream away.

"Am I that different from everybody else? Do I not deserve happiness?

He picked up his pace and left the room without making eye contact with anyone. It had become quite normal for him to shy away from public gatherings as the feeling of judgement from others was a sickening thought. He headed out of the building as quickly as he could, zipping his jacket up on the way out to prepare himself for the cold November night. The strong winds hit his face like a brick as he walked outside, almost turning his head unexpectedly. He hunched his head down into his shoulders and stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. It was warm and comforting and he was somewhat pleased he'd been sitting on his coat inside. Walking down the quiet street, he kept his head pointed to the ground making sure to not make contact with anybody that might be walking past. That was until he reached the off licence.