Why Depression Feels Like Living In War Times

When you stopped wanting to die or kill yourself, what was it that changed or stopped you? I find it impossible to live with depression any more, I see what it’s tied upon but its tied of variables that are out of my control.

Life happens all around me but I just feel one million miles away from myself today. How do you regain the connection to the outside world when the inner connection breaks off?

What I have in me is the laughter of a dead man and the sound of the heart in freefall. The elements of unity in rapture, the loud dispense of raindrops in a coffee cup filled with cigarette leftovers. The word destroyed, it’s so familiar to me, it’s like a second skin I have been trying to shake for years, maybe for a million seconds. Tonight in this summer air, in this open yard where beer slowly numbs my senses, all the voices, all the laughter of people, all the background music, they take me down slow, like cold water on a beach; all I want is to belong, and I’m tired of belonging to myself, or to the passing glimpses of strangers.

They act like an anchor dragging you further and further into a dark pit. It’s very hard to say this because I do not want to talk to anyone any more about it. I am simply exhausted and I don’t want to burden other people with it or tell them and receive the stupidest answers. So I’m asking you, although I don’t know how this will change anything. I wish someone could show up, place their hand on my forehead and say “it will be over soon”. Sometimes I think of the bad days I thought I’d never survive and the number is zero. That should be fulfilling enough, but I guess there’s something different working for everyone.

Depression is like a throwback Thursday meets Black Friday. Once you hit real low rock bottom you start seeing life from afar, with all its mishaps and guidelines that were built in the shape of society. You can never convey again to it, which is somehow relieving. You cannot go back ever either to believing in it, which is somehow similar to what Bill Murray points out to Scarlett Johansson in Lost in Translation: it doesn’t get easier.

The only 3 things that have helped me survive depression so far are my sense of humour, sense of proportion and sense of calling my mom to make soup for me for as long as she lives.

At the end of the day I think the only universal lesson is to let go of people and things that break your spirit.

Once broken, you can repair it. But it takes time. It takes sometimes longer than the situation that broke it in first place.

I don’t know. Not all wishes that come true materialize the way we wanted. So do we need to make more mathematically argumented wishes, or is life simply a long row of check-ins in recovery?