This morning I sit on the toilet with my elbows on my thighs and my chin in my hands;
But now they can’t hold the weight of my brain, my head falls parallel to the ground, my vision darkens and I can feel the salty soup boil in my eyes and brim over as the warm tears form tiny puddles on my legs.
My nose begins to sting; I’m not sure what to do.
Fuck it, I do feel like shit.
I bear my mouth into a grimace, squeeze my eyes shut as tight as possible; and howl.
I’m not even sure if I’m crying anymore, just yelping.
I manage to reassure myself – come on! You do not need to be doing this.
I smile slightly, yes exactly that’s true. I think about the people that I love; the ones that say they love me too.
I think about how much of a burden my existence and illness is to them; I think about how much happier they would be without me – can they even really love me if I don’t love myself? I feel guilty for taking a place in their life when they could have someone so much better.
Someone that’s happier, but more than that. Someone who isn’t just happy when they’re out in public, someone who doesn’t fall with exhaustion the moment they needn’t be in company.
Someone who doesn’t look in the mirror, and stare as lifelessly into the lifeless eyes that stare back at them.
I stare at my other features; my cheeks hang low; my mouth falls completely straight; I flick back to my eyes but they’re even sadder than they were before.
I think that I used to be like that.
A bit more time passes, and I decide getting dressed would be a good idea – go on I’ll even wear a bra.
I’ve decided to write myself a letter; I think about it slightly as I make a coffee, I’ll even make a cigarette.
you know what, you’re right;
life can feel really fucking shit.
But that’s not to say, it can’t be bliss.
I believe that you should know, depression is a terribly dangerous thing.
I don’t exactly know what it is, and I suppose the new experiences I have with it make me see it in different lights; but at this moment in time, I see it as a tiny little monster, one that’s only visible in your peripheral vision.
It’s cheeky, and it smiles – it’s like that weird friend you trust even though they always bring trouble and none of your friends like them.
But you hang out with them nonetheless; they do this wonderfully enchanting thing, where they portion off sections of your brain, and maybe you don’t realise it at the time, but they’re using those dough balls to make a various selection of you’s.
And that’s why depression is a dangerous thing.
You’re happy and you’re comfortable with your brain, and your friends – until you realise that you are in fact terribly alone; alone now with fragments of you that you can’t put together now that they’re each completely isolated. You stare blankly at each other.
You’re scared, and you look around; but what are the other options?
‘I can’t do it’ I repeat aloud over and over again, but all I hear in my head is a cackle, I hold my hands against my head so hard, and just shake it side to side, repeating the word ‘no’.
It’s an unnatural sensation I’d say, when not only your chest hurts, but your ribs feel like they’re winding all over your body and tightly suffocating you with every breath; you try and push your shoulders back but they feel as though they’re at a tug of war with your brain.
The voice tells you all sorts of things, things that I do not think are healthy to repeat in such a letter – but the voice is your limit. Sometimes it’s funny, and it feels like your friend; but from now on you must know that this is not how you can live life.
You are STRONGER than this!
Fuck the voice, fuck the monster – fucking beat the shit out of it and fuck it right off.
You don’t need to live life through your subconscious, actually remember you’re your brain’s best friend, it doesn’t need to be ghoul-ridden and inflict self-loathing.
You’re wonderful, you’re lucky to have such wonderful friends – the ones I have in mind are ones I believe would benefit from this letter. Each of you inspire each other – in lots of ways I could imagine us as exotic flowers, hanging alone at the tops of trees; instead of embracing loneliness, we should enjoy the view.
And I guess once we step away and look far and out over all of this opportunity and possibility – we’ll realise that we are not actually very alone at all.