An Ugly Topic
There are some things that are sweet to write about, such as love, or chocolate, lol. I really love chocolate. But there are other topics, such as deppression, that are really ugly to talk about.
I was depressed for years of my life for lots of reasons. Hardly anyone knew, people just thought that my shyness and withdrawn behaviour was just who I was. Even I had come to accept that this was just me and I would have to live with it.
But what they didn't understand was the pain that was inside of me. Waking up everyday to things in my mind that I would dream of forgetting. I used to sit and daydream about being a completely different person. I looked around me at confident people, happy people and I envied them and a part of me even hated them. Why were they so happy? Life was miserable to me and on the outside I was called crazy, because I did stupid things at school, silly little things such as talking to my pen or singing crazy songs, and eveyone was fooled into believing I was alright, even I was fooled.
But at nights and when I was alone, I had to face my demons, alone.... I used to cry myself to sleep. I had nightmares and many fears, I was even afraid of looking at myself in the mirror; afraid to stare into my own eyes; the dispair, ugliness, hopelessness I saw there frightened me.
I guess people who have never been depressed wouldn't understand what it is like. It's like having a pain in your body that there is no pill to stop, it just keeps hurting and you feel like you are on fire, and you can't put it out. And when it gets really bad, you feel so miserble, you want to rip off your skin and tear out your hair. And dying seems like the only solution.
So why didn't I kill myself? I was afraid I wouldn't be in God's favour anymore, and that scared me more. But I used to hurt myself, I felt I deserved it. I felt ugly, I felt like the worse person alive. But I kept going, and I wrote about it. I wrote rivers of poetry about my pain, and sometimes it made me feel better, but it helped me more when other people read it. It was from reading one of these poems that my husband realized how sad I was and reached out to me.
I was depressed for years of my life for lots of reasons. Hardly anyone knew, people just thought that my shyness and withdrawn behaviour was just who I was. Even I had come to accept that this was just me and I would have to live with it.
But what they didn't understand was the pain that was inside of me. Waking up everyday to things in my mind that I would dream of forgetting. I used to sit and daydream about being a completely different person. I looked around me at confident people, happy people and I envied them and a part of me even hated them. Why were they so happy? Life was miserable to me and on the outside I was called crazy, because I did stupid things at school, silly little things such as talking to my pen or singing crazy songs, and eveyone was fooled into believing I was alright, even I was fooled.
But at nights and when I was alone, I had to face my demons, alone.... I used to cry myself to sleep. I had nightmares and many fears, I was even afraid of looking at myself in the mirror; afraid to stare into my own eyes; the dispair, ugliness, hopelessness I saw there frightened me.
I guess people who have never been depressed wouldn't understand what it is like. It's like having a pain in your body that there is no pill to stop, it just keeps hurting and you feel like you are on fire, and you can't put it out. And when it gets really bad, you feel so miserble, you want to rip off your skin and tear out your hair. And dying seems like the only solution.
So why didn't I kill myself? I was afraid I wouldn't be in God's favour anymore, and that scared me more. But I used to hurt myself, I felt I deserved it. I felt ugly, I felt like the worse person alive. But I kept going, and I wrote about it. I wrote rivers of poetry about my pain, and sometimes it made me feel better, but it helped me more when other people read it. It was from reading one of these poems that my husband realized how sad I was and reached out to me.
Comments
Post a Comment