An Attempt to Explain Depression

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By Sophie Ann

It’s hard to explain depression to someone who doesn’t suffer it. I feel like I have a rucksack on my back that is full of bricks. It weighs me down and making me constantly feel empty and down. Even in sleep, I can feel the bag, making it uncomfortable to relax.

The Bricks Push You Down

Sometimes it gets heavier, making some days worse than others. There are times when people add bricks, making it harder for me to keep smiling throughout the day. Sometimes, suddenly, you feel weak, and can’t smile, and the bricks push you down further into a vortex of unwanted thoughts and sadness.

Each day, I wish I could forget depression, but I can’t. I feel my eyes become weary, and I just want to curl up in bed and sleep. Maybe sleep will help me forget about my problems, expectations and issues inside my head. However, even sleep doesn’t help. It doesn’t refresh me, sleep just makes me more exhausted. These sleepless nights make me worse.

I Push People Away

Why? Why do I push everyone away, people who actually treat me right. I push people away, because this is my mean defence. I am scared of being hurt once again, but maybe they could help. Maybe they could really help.

I’m not sure why I think of depression so much. The scenarios in my head all have the same outcome. I think, ‘Why would anyone be bothered? It’s not like my friends text me. They don’t take the time to acknowledge my existence.’

I’m Afraid

Only my friend cares for me, and I thank her for making me happier. I’m so happy with our friendship, but I’m scared I’m gonna hurt her, and make her sad. I’m afraid I’ll make her realise how much of a bad person I am, and then she’ll laugh and leave, like everyone else.

If she knew what these thoughts were, she would never have wanted to get to know me, and that’s what scares me.

But the truth is, I don’t think of anything else.

Questions I Ask Myself

The thoughts, rewritten notes, close-enough situations.

Why do I need to live a life when I have the power to end it?
I am so unhappy, why can’t I get out of this depression?
Can’t I start again, and create a new me?
A me I actually like, a me who isn’t me.