What Depression Feels Like

Monday 14^th November

Day 6

8:22am

I’ve almost been here a week.  Yesterday was horrible.  I was so upset last night.  The nurse told me she hadn’t seen anyone as depressed as me for a long time.  I just want to give up.

Depression

I feel dead inside.

Like a stark, barren wasteland

That hasn’t felt the touch of soothing rain

Since forever.

I can hardly what it feels like to laugh

To smile without it feeling forced

To find a deep rooted sense of peace

Inside.

Funny,

How I read about depression

During my nursing training

And even though I saw it as an illness

There was always a part of me that thought

It only happened to those people

Who were weaker,

Less resilient,

Less able to be positive

And thankful for life.

That surely those people

With a bit of willpower

Can pull themselves out of the ‘dark cloud’

Easily enough

Stop being so sensitive

And feeble

To face the world

Like everyone else has to.

Now I understand

How even the supposedly ‘easy’ or ‘joyful’

Parts of life

That we tend to cling to,

To use to recharge our batteries

Become cold

And lifeless.

How each moment

Can become infiltrated with panic

And pain

And anxiety;

How dark, pointless, frightening,

Terrifying, hopeless

Life can become.

How every task

Big or small

Becomes meaningless

Inconsequential;

How there is not a moment’s peace

From the heaviness inside.

I now know the feeling

To be trapped in the shadows

So deep in a dark cavernous hole

That the speck of light somewhere above you

Disappears altogether.

I now know the pain

Of waking up each morning

And wishing you hadn’t,

The guilt of not being able to give the world

What you used to be capable of

The near impossibility

Of concentrating on anything outside

Of the all consuming darkness

That seems to penetrate

Your very soul;

The guilt and shame

Of being loved, blessed and supported

Yet still not having the strength to climb out;

The sensation of being trapped

Within your very own self,

The one place

From which you cannot run

Or escape.

Like a sentence of misery and despair

Seemingly eternal imprisonment

That I would run for hundreds of miles to get away from

If it would make any difference.

I know the desperate need for numbness

The only way my brain can conceive

Of finding some sense of relief;

The reflex or wanting to detach from everyone

And everything

To be alone

To isolate myself;

The desire

Yet impossibility and strain

Of connecting with others

And the incomprehension

Of how you turned into a person

Barely recognizable

Even to yourself.

The worst part of my imprisonment

Is the endless yearning for peace of mind,

I never before realized the necessity for this;

Almost as strong as the biological need for oxygen,

My body begging

Crying out

For even a moment’s reprieve.

And with this

Comes the wretched yearning

And terrifying reality

of it’s elusiveness.