To that person who suffers from depression in a way that he doesn’t understand.
You wake up in the morning, feeling like bursting into tears. Your heart palpitates. You breathing is uncontrollable. You ask yourself: “What happened?” Nobody could answer the question, even you.
You spend a day with smiles all over your face. Not fake ones. Genuine, pure, innocent smiles. To your misfortune, you suddenly feel troubled. Disturbed. Worried. Down. You ask yourself: “What happened? Did something trigger my depression?” You aren’t able to specifically answer the question because you’re hearing the voice in your head say everything.
You don’t dismiss your feelings but you don’t give them attention either. Smart. You don’t even know what caused it so might as well let it pass, right? You socialize, run some errands, do your basic tasks. You keep living your day but there’s some dark, heavy, colossal metal ball dragging you down. You feel it inside your heart, hence the uneasy breathing and tightness. You ask yourself: “What is happening?” You don’t understand. There’s no way to understand.
You eat lunch with a friend, trying to poke the light inside you. Have some fun, you tell yourself. You explain to her how weird you feel. You can’t stop talking, your words form a miserable sequence. She tells you: “You look fine. Did something happen?” You breathed in quickly. How do you answer that question? How do you argue that no, I may look fine but I’m actually not. How do you make them believe? Does it matter?
You’re now alone at your apartment. Alone with your thoughts. The only noise you hear are the sound of the kettle boiling and the stomps of your thoughts running in your head. You feel that later it will explode. Along with the insides of your chest. A burst of air and blood as you scream into the void. You ask yourself: “What’s happening? What caused this? What’s the reason for this?” And amidst the million thoughts in your head, something stands out and finally gives you an answer: “It’s just is.”
What the hell? At first you don’t understand. At first, you think it’s nonsense. But it is what it is. You realize it’s been your new normal. Your default. Dark, heavy, dragging. Depression is your default. It is what it is and that alone makes living inhumane.