Wordy Wednesssss….um, Friday. Depression.

I didn’t write yesterday.

The thing about depression is that it sucks.
You’re not you. You don’t know who you are but it’s not you.
You feel like taking your skin off.
You feel like hiding under the floorboards.
Nothing you make turns out the way you want it to. Everything is frustrating. You feel like you fail at life.
You feel isolated. But you are so irritable that you just want everyone to leave you alone.
Your body hurts. That only makes you more frustrated.
You can’t cut in a straight line.
Things you like turn sour.
You feel deserted.
You want to stay in bed but that makes you feel like you aren’t doing anything with your life. Like your life is a joke.
Everyone is doing fun things. Playing in the sunshine.
You gain 10 pounds. Now you are fat and depressed.
Moments happen which make you happy and you think, “it’s gone! I’m me, again.”
Then you curl up into a ball and cry.
And you don’t know where you went.
Or what will really bring you back.

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