Depression
Apparently this blog has become therapy for me. Sorry to anyone who actually hoped I would write anything actually literary…
I’m sad again.
Well I’ve been sad, it never goes away, but tonight hope is fading again. I can feel the depression coming, which is different from sadness. It is. Just…trust a lifetime’s intimate relationship with depression…it is a different flavor than sadness.
And here it is. Creeping back in like a tentative dog, licking my feet, saying “hey, remember me? let’s be friends…” It’s a lie. It’s not a sweet, bashful puppy. That’s just how it gets in the door, being all quiet and stealthy and pretending it’s not what it is… Pretending that once it is within clawing distance it won’t transform into a great, inky, oily demon and try to consume me.
Fucker.
I won’t write the thoughts it’s feeding me. They don’t deserve the solidity of words. I won’t write the doubts and fears and insecurities it’s whispering in my ears. I won’t play its game, for at least as long as there’s any of me left inside…
That’s the difference. Sadness, at least, is clean. It makes no pretense, it doesn’t whisper, it doesn’t scheme, it just is, the nature of existence, pain, weight, sometimes crushing but simple, straightforward, honest.
Depression is devious, wicked, self-promoting, it is a shyster, a snake-oil salesman. It is hateful and personal and vicious. It curls inside and plucks my strings and laps up the fear, the pain, the suffering, the doubt… It laughs as it destroys the bastions of light and rationality, fills those places with its own corruption until there is no resistance left, until I believe. And if it can destroy the people around me in the process… Alienate me, isolate me, cut me off from love and kindness and understanding… all the better. Cull me from the herd and make me easier prey the next time.
Fucker.
I’m not gone yet, fucker. The bastions are still holding against you. And there are still a few left who love me. You haven’t won. But by all means, make yourself at home… Get comfortable. Let down your guard. That’s when I’ll find you and rip you from me because I know your face, fucker. So go ahead. Bring it on.
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