Expressionless Depression

I don’t know how to express what I’m feeling. It’s something I’m so used to, yet whenever I’m hit with it it’s all new to me.

I suppose I’m lost. But lost is such a distant, estranged word in my mind. Drifting is more accurate, though I feel too attached to the ground to be floating away. I’m far into reality where things are overbearing and the pressure gets heavy to the point of breaking my being.

And yet I move through the minutes, the hours, the days like everything is normal. Normality is the last thing that’s brewing inside of me. And that’s what I can’t explain: the feeling inside of me.

It’s like a bottomless pit where the happiness and love drain to fall and fall, leaving me abandoned. Left without hope or the knowledge I can be more than what I am.

I know I will get through this, but it’s so harsh that I want to cringe into myself. The fear, the unhappiness takes the place of everything that made me whole. I am lonely, I am full of yearning to run away.

When I’m like this there is no answer. There’s no words that can salvage me from my own wreckage that I’ve created. In a way, I am numb to any communication. I feel trapped inside of my misfortunes.

So that’s where I am. I’m stuck on the cycle that revolves around my life: happiness, wholesome, love, depression, fear, loneliness. I’m suspended upon the line where my mind likes to trick me and gives into the illness that I’ve attracted.

Depression will always be an open wound. It may heal over with medication, or time, but it will never fully go away. It’s a scar on my being, on my life. In its glory I will always lose myself. I’ll be ruined over and over again.

It’s truth, what I’m feeling. Complete truth of who I am. Along with all of the good that’s in me, there is the bald exception of my troubles. As much as it may bother me, and take me along for the excruciating, horrible rides, it will forever be part of me.

And where are all of the thoughts that have gotten me through this so many times before? People talk with me, my conscious mind is in there somewhere, but I can’t find any comfort. I’m stranded to fend for myself.

I want to run, or sleep for years on end until my full being is restored. The impossibility of those two things breaks me down to balance wearily on the string that connects my heart to my head: my wellness to my misery. The weight that I am strains that string, just up to the point of breaking.

The light is there, in the far distance. I’m only blind for the moment. The very long, drawn out moment that takes my breath away to make room for shuddering and tears. I will succumb to all of it and I will want to shatter against my own will to keep going on.

As I’m writing this, I know that I will back at it and wonder how it came about. As I write this, I begin to realize that I’ll be strong. Because despite the pain and desperate reaching for everything I want, it’ll go away. I have falter through the bad to get to the good. I have to cry, and lose my sane feelings to capture the other truth that lies within me: strength