Shutter island. [ H.S ]

Depression

de·pres·sion; a mental condition characterized by feelings of severe despondency and dejection, typically also with feelings of inadequacy and guilt, often accompanied by lack of energy and disturbance of appetite and sleep.

                          ••••••••••••

"Here lies, not your typical love story, but a story. One of two, both a man and a woman and she was a compulsive son of a bitch.. no. Alright."

Back settling amongst the leather of the seat he sat in, he angrily chucked the yellow pencil onto the wall opposite of him; provoking the dark locks atop his head to tousle, some curls landing over his eye. Frustration was undoubtedly clear, plastered across the harsh structures of his face.

His mind was bent, utterly converted into putty. He couldn't put his finger on anything, let alone some sort of interest to peak his writing. Writers block was certainly a bitch. However it was greatly needed, that he had some reason and idea to let his pencil explore the paper, because a bunch of emotions were smothering him. Felt as though he were suffocating. And the worst part of it, was the only emotions he could make out were anger and betrayal.

Some part of him wanted to cry. After all, there was every reason to. His heart was fucking broken. As cliché as that shit may sound, it happens. Though he rarely admitted that because it would make him look like a bitch. Only one time, he'd ever opened up about what was done to him, and that was his last therapy session. Legitimately his last.

That didn't end well for him. She only repeated the same thing every other person told him, which was, "Everything gets better, just leave her behind and move on." As if it were that fucking easy. Christ— if it was, don't think heartbreak would be so difficult.

A heavy sigh exhaled past his velvety lips and he slumped against the confines of the chair in defeat. Far too many things were bothering him. He was depressed. Wincing as the realization hit him, he angrily pushed himself to his feet; head hanging low as his fingers curled into fists. He wasn't in denial, he just despised the fact he was weak enough to be in such a bad position. Being sad is one thing, but depression is the lowest point.

It isn't something you immediately result to, when someone has been been sad for a long time. It takes more to really, realize that they are depressed. Depression is the palm of a heavy hand, holding them down and preventing them from doing anything. It isn't by itself, either.  Sorrow filled heart permeates throughout a broken soul, the body reflects inwardly out all the pain felt. 

Solace sought, but not found, furthering their agony. It grounds them too sad to live, too broken to move, so they lie there. Numb. Struggling, barely getting by, yet somehow a part of them finds the strength to carry on. With every bit of willpower.

Strength is something he holds onto, by a thread. Usually, he manages a false facade, that he doesn't care. That he's okay. False. His cheeks twitch when he smiles. His eyes burn and brim with tears. But, he swallows his pride and trudges on.

And it's the worst thing.

Each day is a different struggle for the man. Every night is the increase of more pain, and despair. Nights amongst himself, leave him plenty of time to think— is he the only one that has their demons feasting upon their soul? They say it is easy to tie a noose around your mind, to overcome the urges and temptations of ending your life with a suicide.

No one is aware of  the true pain and torment that goes on in his head; an epic battle that leaves him with restless nights in bed.  "End your life already." the voices taunt, as they prey on him during his weakest hours. There are times he gave into the voices, carrying the sharp blade across his wrists, crying as he struggled to mutter three powerful words that kept him going.

Choked on sobs, lungs deflated with a desire to say that god loves him.  He tries to convince himself that god is trying to test his faith, and to just wait, wait and wait.  His demons will eventually flee his plummeted mind.

                                             *****

              Updates will be mildly constant, depending on the time I have. Other chapters will be much longer, this is merely an introduction to this story, is all.

              Fair warning for what lies ahead; there will be very explicit scenes; sexual content, suicide;self harm, strong usage of language, and if you do struggle with severe depression and anxiety, etc, and reading about these things won't do you well, do not read this story. Plain and simple.

                There will also be a playlist for this book, that will be put in, in the next chapter.