Depression is like a gun, it affects the one who holds it and the one who it's being targeted at. The bullets are the emotions, the triggering words, the painful memories, the hours of self-loathing, the overwhelming reluctancy to do anything.
Even move.
The gun hole is the well that those who suffer are permanently thrown down into by life's cruel hand. The only ways out are to crawl the harsh, abrasive, dagger-sharp walls yourself, until you reach the top, bleeding and bruised; or call for help until someone finds you, but then you're relying on the person to have "good natured" as part of their personality.
But something no one tells you about depression is how isolated you unselfconsciously become. While you're having a 'bad day' for the fifth week in a row, your friends ,who you mentally abused so you could feel better, have been diagnosed with the same battle you're fighting. You were just too busy wallowing in your own self misery to realise you passed on the disease to your only life line.
It's not a "coincidence" that most of my friends are or have been depressed, I'm poisonous.
I referred to myself as an "expert" to a mental disease I can't even diagnose in other people.
YOU ARE READING
Monologues of the mind
RandomThese are just random monologues/thoughts/entries into my mind. These are normally written when I'm feeling depressed or emotional over something, so take caution if you are easily upset. Let me know your thoughts in the comments. ~ T.H
