Lost in depression


Life, is sacred. She know that, because its special. She is not a child full of life like the others. She wonders how people look at her and think that she’s happy. She has tried being a little adventurous in life, and the little risks she has taken are turning out to be her down fall. She has talked to God in these days, she feels like a traitor because he has always been there for her.

She’s confronting her demons now and she doesn’t know where to start, maybe she might never see, walk, talk or even think again. Because it is consuming her life and she is allowing it. Those positive thoughts that she has tried only increase the darkness in her light. Her life is dark.
All her age mates are out there having fun engaging in life’s most dangerous adventures. She’s there, lifeless on her bed trying to live out her boring life. It’s not the first time the depression spell has bewitched her, it’s just that this one feels worse than the rest.

She always wanted to sing out in her beautiful voice, but she tried today and no beautiful tune came out of her. She doesn’t know what happened to her throat.
It’s going to be tough but she has to be brave. As she tosses and turns in her small room she thinks of all the opportunities she could have had if it hadn’t come this early. She tries crying herself to sleep but that won’t work because she has been sleepless for months now.

She has thought of suicide more than once today, of how she could just go and throw herself from the fifth story of her building. But her pride would not allow such things to happen. Over her dead body, ironically. She thinks of all the pills that she has been able to acquire from the clinic and the hospital. But she’s afraid she won’t be able to go through the pain of an overdose. Let alone surviving one.
And so she sits next to her bed and cries and regrets ever being alive. She’s confused and doesn’t know what steps she can take to start a new life without thinking of death. Praying that she gets a magnificent purpose in life, that in the morning she might wake up knowing what she wants to achieve in life.

This life is hard she thinks to herself, maybe I’m going to be a billionaire, and she doesn’t want anything destroying that part of her young, happy ambitions. She holds on to those thoughts and prays again; her hands feel a little stiff while she’s praying. She’s hoping God is looking at her and preparing her for a healing as her mind is deep in those dark thoughts.
When she dies she’ll have absolutely no idea what people will say at her funeral because she has lived for so long in depression. It blinded her. Her eyes allowed her to see her grave, because she’s thinking who would want some more years in life if you don’t even know why you are on earth in the first place.

She wants to live a meaningful life, where she can easily count her own blessings as they come. She is being unrealistic. Wanting to have more fortunate occasions, not the tormenting events that seem to be baying for her blood.
It’s a scary feeling when such things happen, when she wants someone to tell her ” you’ll be okay!” But the truth is that there was no one, no one could understand her the way she understood herself, her words are of no use to anyone who tries to sympathize. The darkest secrets are within her, some worth telling while some so dark she wonders where her grave is.

Confrontation is one of the hardest things she could ever go through. She makes mistakes; some she learns from, some she regrets, some she wants to repeat. She hopes that she’ll be able to recover, confront her past and hope for the future.

For her she is stuck at the confrontation, shocked that she had been so desperate, stooped that low, got lost in her depression.

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