Longing Thoughts of the Delusional One

My Depression Story

I can't remember how it started, but I don't know if it even ended.

For awhile, I was lost in some kind of world that walls and grounds were painted with a dark blue with black splatters. I walked around trying to find a light, but after a while I gave up. What was the point? I found nothing inside, but yet it was so comforting to be in a place only I could go and see. No one else knew about it, if I told anyone, I was afraid it might all leave me. I replace friends with pain, it was the only company I preferred, it felt like kisses against my wrist after it became numb. I fell deeper and deeper in love with this place. I never wanted to leave, after it seemed like everyone left me, it was only a constant place that was guarded with sadness. I returned from my kingdom late, causing me loose sleep in the real world. The kingdom fed me in there, causing me to be full in the real world. They told me I could eat all I want in here, but out there, I didn't need it. They treated me like a fucking queen. I deserved it after all the shit I've been through. Little did I know it was beating the shit of out me while I slept in it's castle. Little did I know I was losing everyone around me just to be here in it's hands. Little did I know I was letting the guards build more layers of walls around this so called kingdom that was going to be more difficult for me to break out of. 

I knew that somethings kept me inside of the kingdom. I was aware that I was in here, letting the guards do all the dirty work. I watched drinking tea as they build and build getting me further away from whatever I was wondering from. I was bullied a lot when I was little, so all I know was reject. How wonderful was it be inside here, safe in a big bed away from being rejected. But on the outside I shut everyone else out, cried as soon as I got home because I didn't want anyone to ask me what was wrong. Because I didn't have an answer. I didn't know why I was so sad and upset and annoyed and angry. But there was a voice whispering in my ear what I was and who everyone saw me as. I let this, thing, control me. It felt like he was squeezing my hand and hoarsely whispering things to me, everyday. Until one day my teacher asked me what was wrong. I had no idea what to say, and I couldn't just brush it off like I do. 

I got sent to the principal's office because she noticed that I was more quiet than usual. The principal asked me series of questions. I wanted to tell someone, just one person, and I trusted her for some reason. She gave off a vibe of trust. I answered every question honestly, and showed her the kisses on my wrist. She wasn't shocked or had any sign of alarm, letting me know, she seen worst. But then she told me I had to tell my mother. She gave me the choice of telling her that day or that night, but I had to tell her no matter what. The principal told me I had to, despite the relationship between us. I could have choose to tell her that night, but not actually do it. So I decided to tell her that day with the principal there. She reassured me that she would step in if anything became difficult or smooth things over for me. 

After telling my mother, I had to tell the person I respect the most. My dad. 

I remember the day I told him. He came to my house just for me. I told him about the kisses and he wept. The first time I've ever seen him cry. He admits he knew about the kisses, but wasn't sure if it was my doing. After that I couldn't have felt more closer to him. To anyone. After awhile my kingdom didn't seem so high anymore. It felt more of a dungeon that sunk far beneath my feet. That bed felt like concrete with stone blankets and pillows. My mother didn't support me, we were on different pages. I seek out for help through teachers and eventually swallowed the fear of asking my mother for help. She did, thankfully. 

I kept going to therapy, which didn't help too much. My first therapist told me I was more of an advanced case. I was put into a program and then to another therapist. After awhile of going to that therapist, I started going less because of everyone's schedule. I wanted to know if I was actually depressed, I was curious because the tests I took online said I was severely depressed, I wanted to consult a professional. After months of planning the test, when it came my mother said I didn't need it and it was just for medication. After that, I stopped seeing a therapist because I "didn't need it". She forced me to learn on my own, when I needed an outside person that most. I actually felt like I was getting somewhere with the therapist. 

Instead of learning I was forced to hide it, forget everything and move on from it. Force to paint colorful colors on my dark world. And it worked, I became "happier", but I know I'm stuck between the walls the guards built. I escaped the kingdom, but not the guards. I still feel the kingdom is ringing it's bells for me to come back as I try to find little holes for me to jump through.

At this point, they both seem like heaven. My kingdom and the real world. 

Maybe I just have to learn how to build another one, but will it be real or fake?

Would I still be queen or have to worship another queen to gain sanity?