Wet Glasses

Living is a difficult thing, I think.

Because you can be sad without really being sad. Or at least without being conscious of it

You can go from giggling and painting your nails one second - to crying your eyes out the next. And you don’t really know why. All you know is that you've smudged your pinkie, because you couldn't really see it because your glasses are all wet. And then you wonder why your glasses are all wet.

And after a few minutes of wiping your glasses on your shirt, and then a blanket, and then a tissue, you realize that you’re crying. But again, you don’t know why.

The only thing going through your head is that last song you heard on the radio. The optimistic one about how love will conquer all.

The only thing that you can think of is the last video you watched. It was a musical, about not losing sight of the simpler things in life.

The only thing that you remember is the taste of the brownies your mother made. The ones that were way too small to actually satisfy you, which was why you just absolutely had to eat four of them.


And all of these things make you sad.

They make you cry - the song, the musical, the brownies. And you don’t know why.

Because you don’t feel sad.

You feel heavy - like there is an anchor in your chest weighing you down. Like you've run a marathon, and all of your muscles have suddenly become weights that are too heavy for you to hold anymore, much less lift. So you collapse.

And you feel tired - not ‘stayed up too late after a long day’ tired, but mentally exhausted. Emotionally crippled. Like if you could feel any more, you would explode.

Which is funny, because you feel all of this without really feeling anything at all.

You feel empty. You don’t feel happy. Or sad. Or angry. You don’t feel elated. Or exuberant. Or melancholy. Or vengeful.

You don’t feel anything. Nothing at all.


That’s the hardest part, I think.

Feeling so much - that you feel nothing.

You don’t know whether it’s your mind protecting you or merely your inability to comprehend all of the different chemicals in your brain..

You don’t know if it’s a defect in your biology.

All you know is that you are crying, and your glasses are wet again, and the nail polish on your pinkie is smudged, and you don’t really know what to do next.


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741