Depression
Depressed is a feeling; it’s a temporary feeling of sadness that can typically be described. Depression, however, is a noun. It is a state of being depressed; being a person who suffers from depression from the age of eight, I know for a fact, this is not a feeling.
To me, depression is the days I don’t want to talk to anyone. Depression is the weeks I sleep too much, or too little. Depression is the shackles tied around my wrists. Depression is the ton I carry in my chest every single day. Depression is the bindings I tie around my stomach, wishing, hoping, and praying that I could be skinnier. Depression is the words that run around in my head, the words told by individuals in this class.
Why try when all I am is empty? Emptiness is a book of blank pages. A silent cry for help in a room with no …show more content…
That’s what I am. That’s what I think. “In depression… faith in deliverance, in ultimate restoration, is absent. The pain is unrelenting, and what makes the condition intolerable is the foreknowledge that no remedy will come – not in a day, an hour, a month, or a minute… It is hopelessness even more than pain that crushes the soul”
Why can’t I be normal? I get asked this question almost every day and wonder too. One in five people suffer from this disorder and women are two times more likely to get it than men.
Howling in the back of my mind and maneuvering its way only to the front when I least expect it, depression consumes my soul. I feel as though I am incapable of doing anything, even speaking in front of you today, because of the pouncing seizures of anxiety. I agonize over the hundreds of imperfections I have. Whether it is the way my eyes are big, or the fact that I have to wear these ugly glasses. How about the way I smile, or laugh. I agonize over every little thing, and I can’t stop. I feel as though I am the only one suffering in a world of crowned heads and empresses. I’m the peasant. The only way to escape is to set foot on the
Depressed is a feeling; it’s a temporary feeling of sadness that can typically be described. Depression, however, is a noun. It is a state of being depressed; being a person who suffers from depression from the age of eight, I know for a fact, this is not a feeling.
To me, depression is the days I don’t want to talk to anyone. Depression is the weeks I sleep too much, or too little. Depression is the shackles tied around my wrists. Depression is the ton I carry in my chest every single day. Depression is the bindings I tie around my stomach, wishing, hoping, and praying that I could be skinnier. Depression is the words that run around in my head, the words told by individuals in this class.
Why try when all I am is empty? Emptiness is a book of blank pages. A silent cry for help in a room with no …show more content…
That’s what I am. That’s what I think. “In depression… faith in deliverance, in ultimate restoration, is absent. The pain is unrelenting, and what makes the condition intolerable is the foreknowledge that no remedy will come – not in a day, an hour, a month, or a minute… It is hopelessness even more than pain that crushes the soul”
Why can’t I be normal? I get asked this question almost every day and wonder too. One in five people suffer from this disorder and women are two times more likely to get it than men.
Howling in the back of my mind and maneuvering its way only to the front when I least expect it, depression consumes my soul. I feel as though I am incapable of doing anything, even speaking in front of you today, because of the pouncing seizures of anxiety. I agonize over the hundreds of imperfections I have. Whether it is the way my eyes are big, or the fact that I have to wear these ugly glasses. How about the way I smile, or laugh. I agonize over every little thing, and I can’t stop. I feel as though I am the only one suffering in a world of crowned heads and empresses. I’m the peasant. The only way to escape is to set foot on the