Here is what it feels like to wallow in depression.
I hope you find healing and solace in your journey through life. We all need a shoulder to lean on at some point in life because life really comes at you when you least expect.
Why does it seems like the most depressed people knows how to hide it the most?
In days of grievance and pain and multiple weird thoughts running through your mind, you still try to fight it and put up a bright smile.
Mental sanity didn’t seem so much of a big deal to me till I got stroke with trauma, over thinking, curling up in my lonely space, felt like I was different from the others, I hated this feeling but I couldn’t fight it anymore, I was now dwelling in it, days after days and I became a loner, sometimes snub, I enjoyed my own company more. I knew how bad this coping mechanism was but I loved it anyways.
Funnily, all of this didn’t just start in a day; I guess I just didn’t know what I was getting into until I couldn’t fight it anymore. I guess days when I had felt reluctant to build my low self esteem, the many days when I had denied my younger self the social life it deserved, days when I let my fear take a better part of me. Sometimes, I tell myself I am an introvert, making up excuses to submerge the thought that I was a loner but it didn’t work for so long.
Incase you were wondering, I had friends, many of them, sometimes a few; I wasn’t always vocal around them. There were moments when I love been around people and it is another to always want to be alone. I seem happy, they thought — I wore the brightest smile, made them laugh, motivated them, inspire them — Sadly, I wasn’t getting any of this back, I could see things from a perspective where I had fallen, I wouldn’t want them there too.
It’s always an unexplainable pain when you dwell in depression, sometimes you just don’t know what’s wrong.
You know that feeling when you can’t attain what’s you aspire for, when it feels like your dreams are shattered, when it feels like you are stagnant — when it feels like you are a failure, — and thoughts that others are better than you, coupled with the reality that you are yet to discovered yourself. You are certain that you feel something but just can’t explain what it is — and it feels like words have failed you.
Moving forward, I tried to find a solution to this, maybe I could get better — maybe I could be happy as I was when I was 16 with little plans for the future, with no problem, I guess these were the packages that comes with growing up.
I tried to read more books, watch more movies, I was happy doing all of this — but little did I know that I was becoming an avid loner — these were things I was doing all by myself, enjoying only my company, I hated having people around most of the time, I began to crave the nights more, I became nocturnal, I love the tranquility that comes with darkness, why? I guess I articulate my thoughts better at night, my soul is always at peace when it gets dark — and more importantly I’d get a chance to be alone.
Sooner, I became weird with people, I Spoke less because I lost my social life, I was sooner tagged a snub, I didn’t care about it as much, after all I was happy, I guess.
Fortunately, I found writing. Writing my emotions, feelings and thoughts as it were in my head, had a way of relieving me. Many times, I concluded I was a sadist, other times I try to talk myself out of it that it was only a phase of life and it will also pass, but two things were involved, either this phase passes by and I look back at the hurdles I just overcame or it passes by and takes me away with it.
Negative words had a way of weighing my spirit down, I inclined more to the negativity about life than the positivity. I always gave an excuse why I couldn’t be out there knowing fully well I had the potential.
I soliloquized a lot, I just need to let some things out and that was the only way, I still didn’t care if people thought I was crazy — the only time I enjoyed talking to people was when they were going through something similar to mine. It felt like they were a mirror I could reflect my thoughts through, I could understand them well enough even with just a look at their face. It felt like I had immersed deeply into sadism, It felt like I had been around the four falls of depression for so long to know so much about how others felt.
I enjoyed talking to them because I always find a way to cheer them up, inspire them, and let them know someone understands them to know they are not crazy but only passing through a stage in life which would soon be over. It gladdens my heart to see them smile knowing I had just lit up a light in their heart.
But in the backyard of my heart, wailing and sadness dwell, I wish I had a duplicate of me who would do the same for me, I always don’t know how to express how I felt, I just wanted someone who would stare at my face and understand what I felt, someone who would see my smile and know it’s wasn’t genuine, but I guess I just didn’t give enough room for that somebody, I was too reserved, I pushed a lot of people away because I was scared of how they might see me, I don’t want the pity. So I dwelled in my own tears and grievance for a long time. Crazy days I must say.
