Depression|Part 3

Drawbacks.

What makes it really interesting about depression that some fake it? What makes it important that people love to say, “I am depressed, it sucks!” In actuality, what is depression?

Depression is a master in disguising.  

It’s been so long since I wanted to write again on this topic to just make myself feel that I need to take it out of my chest. The more I try to make clear sentences, it jumbles a bit and makes it feel too forced out. But to talk about depression in my experience makes it too personal also.

So, erasing and writing again for the umpteenth time, I have decided to let my mind do the talking and edit when I am done.

You see, a person going through depression doesn’t like to address her issue like depression. Or to talk about her issues to someone and say, ‘you see, I am depressed’.

But, this person can get easily irritated when somehow she finds the confidence to talk about her mind, the listener interjects with her own sad stories or one or two sad incidents from her life and casually end it with, “I am depressed.”

Like a switch being off, her mind clicks and goes to a blank phase.

Whatever that is being said by the other person is not recorded into her mind, and the talker finds this non-responsive stare or emotionless hums annoying. The end will be mostly, an accusation thrown at her. Here her being the victim! The accusation gets registered properly and like a favourite song being replayed in a loop, the sentence or word gets played in a loop; which makes her even more miserable.

Sometimes life is not a fair game.

And now, if she speaks her mind, it will come out as harsh, cold, abrasive or heartless.

She might have only have said what is going through her mind, which she thought was the right thing to say. But, suddenly her words came out wrong or was met with wrong ears. The ability to speak and be bold about it is ripped out from her.

Afterwards, every time she opens her mouth, it will be careful, calculated or robotic. She could feel the hypocrisy in her words but wouldn’t dare to change it in fear of more accusation thrown at her, which to her is a kind of embarrassing situation that will haunt her for a lifetime.

Or if her heart was set to be, ‘I will be who I am, what I am, and I don’t care what others are going to say’; the next person she meets will make her believe that what others are going to say is the only important thing that we have to face.

A depressed person is the most misunderstood people in the word.

A person going through depression or similar conditions, will find communicating or trying to speak their thoughts difficult. Not because they don’t know how to talk, write or pronounce words; but because their mind is a jigsaw puzzle with million pieces scattered across her entire universe making it a herculean task to explain even the simplest of things.

 Or if she had the courage to speak. And she did. The accomplished smile shines on her face, making her feel proud of herself; but the listener might have heard it in a negative way and argued to differ. Or it was simply met with disregarding ears. Or was exclaimed as atrocious. Or was laughed at. Which further rips her confidence into ashes.

Not always, a depressed person is misunderstood. But once when someone comes and say, ‘I can understand,’ her fear escalates and pushes the opportunity to be free, far away from her. And the person being pushed away remains pushed away. Not everyone has the time or commitment to make a change.

Well, not everyone is meant to be in our life.

Some, come and go while some, come and find a way to stick by our side.

And I wish that everyone get a chance in this universe to be happy. And everyone who is secretly fighting depression finds a reason in their life that will make them forget what depression is. Yeah, yeah, I get it… unconventional talking… but I am a person who believes in ‘nothing is impossible’.

So yea lets cross fingers and hope for miracles.

Rant will continue…

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Sorry if this is really boring. I really wanted to get some of it out from me. If you read it, please do comment and tell me what your expieriences are.

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Depression | Part 2

Dear silent lover, 

For whoever, it may concern as I cannot form a shape or name to the image of something so constant in my life. And I address you dear for the fear you left me bubbling in the pit of my enclosed perimeter, where I built walls so that no one can access it; but here you are. With a smile so pure, that venom drips from the corner, tinkling my innermost rivulet, to let go of the emotions that I have bundled up in a reservoir that has a limit before it might explode.

I have forgotten the hang of writing letters, or poetry for that matter. But the more I am with you, in the shadows of a full moon night; I get to feel the birds ringing in my cerebrum. The warmth your care provides endangers me to give up and roll in the blanket of your quirky laughter and just… be. 

For millenniums, I have become a sculpture for your love to be moulded into the shape you want. Now, that I am what you wish for… I suddenly became your reason to be rapturous; while I tarnish the image of being good and morbidly happy.

For you, I have let my guard die in front of my own eyes and the stippling kisses leave an everlasting mark on my skin, so pure, so real; that I can’t believe when it’s over, I can still feel you and nothing in the form of words can I ever describe. 

Dear dearest, take me, leave me naked and bare me to the stars above and leave me in the bed of roses for your anger to be unleashed and be finished with this demurring ecstasy. 

For I am nothing but a petal in the eyes of you to be fallen in love over and over again, even though I doubt if I will ever be good enough.

Dear anxiety, depression, sadness, loneliness, and all things ugly but great teachers… I present you this!

Look me in the eye…

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I have forgotten
the hang of writing poetry
as I master my craft
in silencing vowels from breaking out
and taming restless hurricanes in my eyes.

the crumbs dripping from my fingers
form a trail behind my
lethargic pen,
crafting shapes on stained papers,
and the leftover residue
mocks my game
as I crawl behind ellipses.

black petals sprouts
between the cracks in similes,
but I stop at no cost
plastering fake metaphors
at every distinguished rest stops
to mask miseries.

and if yet you are unable to decipher
the depth in the folds of my stare
that ricochet on empty barrels;
you simply speak words
that holds no feelings,
since my words have stopped forming sentences
to ears that hold a smile
behind compassion.

Depression and me

 

 

 

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Only emptiness. The kind where even shadows hide behind the darkness. I can feel it in my bones as I watch the world goes by. My friends and families, they are fluid. Happy. Talking. Moving. They don’t stop neither are they stopping. They move. I can feel it as I watch the silver gates open and close, for traffic and they transcend.

But I, I stop. I survive each second. I breathe, I inhale and scream. But only a moment has passed by. I sit by, arms folded, tears leaking and watch the world. Ten years have gone by and they have made a family, existence, life. While I am still nowhere in the vortex. I don’t even know where they exit are.

Somewhere in the echo, I hear a voice. The silver catastrophe soothing me in between darkness that I am where I am to be, I can win only when the time comes and I will win like no other but it’s been years since I have heard the same monologue. I can’t even answer back.

I scream into nothingness. But my throat goes sore and heart inflates, aching. I rub myself to stop crying but my legs bounce on its own, unable to hold it in. I am fat and disguised but I can’t stop eating and the reason why is; don’t you dare judge me.

You don’t know depression and illness. You don’t get depressed when you break up with someone and you can move and talk around. You don’t get depression if something bad happened and you can process like ever before. You don’t get to know what depression is if you are capable of pulling yourself out from the bed and drink water. You don’t get to feel and know its depth unless you have felt the deep pain in between your collarbones and ribcage.

The feeling of emptiness and darkness combined suffocates and no amount of crying yourself to sleep will help you gather your atoms and walk on. You will end up with a migraine. I ended up in a migraine and the doctors couldn’t find the reason why I am complaining of it every single time I visit him for he knows of the medical term why and when a migraine occurs but my hormonal imbalance and emotional barriers are so shaken up that I couldn’t control myself. I…

Hope seems so far away. Faith keeps me sane. Mother makes me want to stay strong. God makes me want to challenge myself to win. But, I am a single soul with a burdened body. I am not strong enough or powerful enough to swim through another hurricane to challenge myself to see where this is going. I am done being strong. I can’t anymore…

I… have been in this movie for quite some time that the official timing has passed by but my script is nowhere near an end. Nor, does anyone knows how this is going to be concluded. But, I believe sometime in the future it will and I can’t wait anymore.

I wish if I could drag time by a thread and make it come to me earlier than expected, but I know my wishful thinking can’t make me, won’t help me and… I am stuck… I feel like screaming but the physical pain has shackled me up in between overused metaphors and unsaid words. I want to but I can’t. I…

 

The breathing sculpture.

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There she stands in the outer edge corner, shadowed by her comrades, laughing at the joke that was displayed like a medusa head about her pot bellied expression of witless dreams and stained memories that lost its luster with too many sweets.

Once everyone turns to encore the moving articles around them, a tiny colorless melody drips from her eyes that have met and seen many intricate colored metaphors for her lifetime to suck her dry.  She wipes it away without disturbing the graceful black stroke that has outlined her mirror; with the color of her soul.

And she stands, with her hands crossed and legs slightly titled like a moon unsure of how he should come out for the party tonight. Her dress hangs loose and the stretched her already curved impression making her hard to breathe as the hues in front of her laugh; choking her to death.

She dances in the bathroom mirror, squeezing arrhythmic steps into her overloaded heart and the beat just jarred the cacophony even further.

Yet, with her renewed makeup and strength; she rises like a phoenix with a smile to kill soldiers in their best armor. Yet, when alone in the sanctuary of her confinements, she lost all her lustrous rhinestones to the sky who cried with her that night.

Everyone admired the starry skies.

Hello blog.

 
I’m not sure what am I supposed to write today. No, I don’t know what I should ever write. There is too much to say in my mind. Not to someone, you see. I mean the things that I want to say is not to someone but myself.
You see, people are strange creatures. No matter how hard we try to impress, they mock us. No matter how pressingly we address the issue, there will be something to put us to shame. No matter how hard you try to express your emotions; whatever it may be, sadness, grief, guilt, anger, pain…. no matter what emotions… they either act as if they understood or they might give us the pity stare and then they will laugh behind our back.

So, I have stopped talking and started being silly and laughing queen. So, you know what they say about me? I am so happy… ok, I can live with that. But they also say, ‘she is so stupid. Why can’t she act her age?‘ wow!¡ That’s… wow…

I just don’t know blog… life is too damn straight at times that er just go with the flow and suddenly we alone are hit with a huge barricade and we are forced to see… everyone else that was with me; to climb the mountain and reach somewhere. But for me? I am forced to take the helluva roller coaster ride with damn too many twists and turn.

Sometimes, I just quit… I just can’t.

And when I read about articles that should help me… I am confused even more. Not satisfied. How am I supposed to create positive thinking and live with it when all I ever have is bad… bad thoughts?

But no matter how horrible the day and life may be… I have learned to smile and laugh in the end and then cry when I am in the darkness; alone.

Life can be as bad as anything but I will go on as long as I can tape the broken pieces of my heart together.

Meet you again blogg 🙂

Dear blog

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Ok, that sounds stupid. But I think I will keep it like that 😉

I created this blog with many ideas. Now… I am stuck. Stuck with no thoughts, no ideas, no words and definitely nothing. It’s like I am drained of everything. And that’ s true in a sense.

These days I feel so tired. I feel so drained and exhausted. I am writing a novel based on true events in wattpad and I am seriously getting disinterested.I am like wondering if I should just stop. But if one starts something… one should end it, right? I know where I should go with the plot, story line and all; but I’m seriously getting second thoughts about it.

So now, if only you have a voice dear blog, tell me, should I complete it?? Well, as you can see I am writing in wattpad and I am here in WordPress. So obviously there will be some connections, right? So, yea I am advertising my book 🙂 its free advertising. Come on, everyone gets a heart swell when some random reader from somewhere says, we have written a good story or poem or something right?

Now I feel stupid about it all. Haha, I am sometimes. The thing is when I am doing something I get many other ideas, inspirations, and thoughts which make everything jumbled and finally… I won’t be completing my first job and I won’t be saving any thoughts that sounded really good in my head.

Like right now, when I am writing my current novel, I get ideas for another book and I start writing the ideas of it and then I begin with the story completely ignoring the first one. Everyone gets that, I know… I have heard many say that. Funny… yea…

Anyway, I need to feed my stomach or my migraine will soar high and then I will be over exhausted as if I was the one holding earth.

bye bye, my dear. See ya soon 🙂