Depression doesn’t care if you have a good life and nothing to be unhappy about.
It will take you.
Depression makes you give no shits and yet all the shits at the same time.
It takes away everything you used to enjoy and replaces it with a feeling of nothing.
You couldn’t care less about food, people, places, activities or your own appearance. Depression takes it all.
Depression distorts your view of the world.
Everyone you thought liked you suddenly no longer does. You’ll look for reasons why. You’ll get angry. You’ll get sad. Depression does this.
Everyone else stays the same.
Depression breaks you down.
You didn’t even let depression into your life.
It came uninvited, and for a while you wondered what that uninvited feeling was.
You smiled on through it.
By the time all your happy thoughts had left and only depression remained, you had become so good at smiling on through you just carried on.
Depression didn’t like it.
It chipped away at you daily until you cracked. Over something so trivial.
Now you feel crazy.
Depression likes that.
That’s why no one likes you.
Because you are crazy. You scare them all away with your crazy behaviour. You say the wrong things and people don’t like you for it.
You can’t do anything right.
But what are you wallowing for.
You have a good life and there are people much worse off than you.
Depression doesn’t care.
It wants you.
Then one day you see a post like this one.
And something clicks.
Depression feels like it’s moved a few houses away. Then a few streets, then a few towns.
Sometimes the simplest of things will happen or be said and depression will call you up to remind you what a worthless, failure you are.
But now you know better.
Talking to others, they remind you that depression is an arsehole.
You tell depression that’s it’s ok, you can hear it, you know it’s there but you don’t care. You aren’t going to let it swallow you. You are going to fight so hard until one day you wake up and it’s just a whisper again.
The whisper dulls as it sits silently on your memory shelf.
Waiting for a trigger.
Whilst you can no longer hear depression it’s busy, working on its next victim.
It has many.
You aren’t the only one.