It’s a web of feelings you can’t understand unless you have gone through a period where you felt the feeling of complete sadness, despair and loneliness. Sometimes, this onsets for no reason at all. Other times, it’s because of a trauma, an event, or stress. It feels like dying is less painful than being alive. You wish for death to end the suffering. To end the pain. To stop feeling so damn awful.
Physical pain sometimes accompanies the mental anguish. But the physical side is nothing compared to what this level of depression feels like. Pain feels good. This hurts worse than any cut, bruise, bite, or broken bone. It’s like your heart is dead. To feel any physical pain is relieving. For just a moment, you don’t have to feel the inside pain.
Crying is a sign there is still hope to climb out of this hell hole. Crying means you’re still in there … somewhere. I’ve been crying. That means I’m healing. It’s an outlet. Crying is an outlet of all the energy my body can’t handle anymore. Panic stricken attacks, hyperventilation and crying release some of the tension inside my body. And I feel a little better.
Screams rip through my body while I writhe around, hoping all the pain and hurt I feel will disappear. So much hurt, so much pain. Letting it out is sometimes the hardest thing you can do, but letting it go eventually will feel better.
Sleep comes and will overtake your sore and exhausted body. I dread sleep when I am in these state of minds. Dreams invade my sleep, and usually they aren’t good. I tried turning off the dreams using drugs before, but then I just dealt with the demons. Since I don’t take the drugs anymore, I don’t see the demons… most of the time. When I am in a deep depression, I do see them. I hear them. They talk about me. They torture me. If I don’t move, if I stay still, they don’t bother me. If I get up, adjust my body position, breathe too loud, or talk to them, they assault me with their whispers.
It feels like this will never end. But it’s happened before, I know I’ll get over it. Logically, I know. But inside, I never know how much I can take. I’m drowning again.