“i was in love, i loved, i fell out of being in love, and then i fell out of love with love. i dove into the fear of solitude by making myself available again to a person who trades in indecision and unforgiveness – to the point that his unforgiving nature made me believe that i was the product of every mistake i had ever made, and that i was incapable of change – incapable of being the person i am now, and had been before i reintroduced myself to him. i believed that i was as unlovable as he made me feel.
i felt alone, and i believed that solitude meant being unloved, and if one can be unloved at such a young age, then there is no hope for the hopeful heart that believes in love and one day raising a family. i spent sleepless nights haunted and tormented by thoughtless, unpremeditated acts that had robbed a bit of myself from myself. in those nights i lay awake, i fell into a deep despair and couldn’t recognise the hopeless insomniac wreck i’d become as myself.
i could see an end to the self-perpetuated mental torment of depression, but i couldn’t believe i would make it out. i could see my true self waiting for me to return and take hold of my life again. she was calling my name. she was desperate for me to get back on track because she could see everything i wanted in the horizon, yet i refused to follow her. she was rearing to go, and i was holding her back. she had so much within arm’s reach, and i wasn’t letting her grab hold of it.
i spent nights awakened by torment and grief, and spent the days just the same way – except that at night i didn’t have to hide it. i didn’t have to hold back tears.
i didn’t want to get out of bed when the sun came up, but i had duties and responsibilities, and i knew that if i’d stayed in bed any longer i would suffocate on my despair. it would physically and mentally kill me. thank God for responsibility and duty, because, if only for a moment, i forgot my sorrows and functioned normally and carried out my duties and responsibilities. i smiled through it all, because i’m better at that than saying how i really feel.
i went through it.. i really went through it, and fortunately i made it out a lot quicker than most, and a lot quicker than i had ever expected. it was a matter of days – but that doesn’t take away from what i went through, and how i got out of it. it wasn’t by my own strength – i know that – because even the words of affirmation and encouragement i was given by those who knew what i was going through wouldn’t act as a crutch, or even a hoist. all i remember is praying for His strength, because i knew i was too exhausted with trying to be strong and pick myself up..”
depression is real, and the strength that is required to go through it and go through it is incredible – a strength that is superior to the strength required to “handle” life. i salute all the people that made it out, and i salute all the people that have told their story, because that’s possibly even harder than going through the depression. the stigma associated with it almost scares you back into the darkness of it. they assume that you are sensitive and that you are weak – not that you are human too. they forget that although the mind is as beautifully mysterious and enigmatic as it is, it handles the stress as any physical muscle would. place to much of a strain on it, and you will injure it, regardless of how strong you were pre-injury.