Depression

Some people can go through their lives without feeling depressed. I thought that would be me. I thought that I could go through my life without any problems and everything would work itself out. I couldn’t have been more wrong. When I was diagnosed with depression my parents didn’t know how to help me because they didn’t know how I felt. I wasn’t able to think about how to explain it to them by talking about my feelings. I looked around and read multiple articles on depression. After looking for a while I found a scenario that I thought would help them understand. So this is what I told them. Imagine you’re running yourself a really warm bath getting ready to sit back and relax. You set candles out and poured yourself a glass of your favorite wine. You stepped into the tub and goosebumps rose on your skin when your toes touch the water. You sank back in the tub and let the heat soak in for a minute. That full tub, that perfect moment, represents the happiness that you’ve felt throughout your life. I’ve been there, in that warm tub, that perfect moment, but unlike yours, mine didn’t last. Now you are used to staying in until you want to get out. You have that choice. That’s not how it was for me. This is how it really happened. The tub was full, but out of the corner of my eye there was a silhouette. The silhouette walked over to the tub, pulled the plug and blew out the candles, draining the tub, leaving me cold and alone. That’s depression. I never asked for that. Nobody does. I didn’t ask to feel the way I did. I hated it so much more than I could ever describe. I hated it because I didn’t feel normal. When I told my mom that she just said that there is no such thing as normal. I disagree. Normal is being and doing what other people expect you to be and do. Normal people don’t go weeks on end wanting to end their life because they think they have no other way out of whatever situation they’re going through. Normal people don’t expect to die before graduating. Normal people have friends and are good at communicating. I was never normal. I hated having to take medication to keep myself from going insane. I hated the fact that I knew what was causing my depression but I couldn’t do anything to change it. I hated when people just assumed that I was okay. I hated not having friends. I hated not being understood. I hated when my parents told me that we would ‘fix it’. What the hell did that even mean? Why did they make it seem so simple? Depression is not simple. Depression is something that doesn’t just go away after you cry it out. Depression is crying until you’re dry heaving and you don’t have any more tears to give. It’s feeling like someone is constantly trying to pull your heart right from your chest. Depression is not having anything to live for. It sucks. I feel like someone had been holding my head underwater for the last 5 years. After pushing for so long I just gave up. I was exhausted all the time. I still am. My parents think it’s because I don’t get enough sleep. I know that’s not it because I get 8 hours of sleep every night. I’m exhausted because of the amount of energy that I am using to try to keep myself from falling again. There was a point in my life where I couldn’t keep myself up anymore. I felt so misunderstood. I was a burden to everyone. I knew it, they knew it. It didn’t need to be said out loud, it’s just the way it was. Depression isn’t just an emotion, it’s a mental illness and I hate it.  I wanted to be normal. I wanted to have friends. I wanted to have something to live for.

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

Comments

Jan Wienen

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