This is a short essay I had to write for a class, it's not quite done yet.
|To be lost in a world without feeling, without excitement or love, every day is dark and cold. One in such a world may search for an end, but to no avail, because they are numb. It’s a feeling so brutal to the soul, convincing your body you’re lost, but your mind still knows it’s alive. Depression isn’t a state of mind a person can just choose to adopt to live in, or move away from. It is a fierce and wicked consequence of a great loss, a change in one’s life, and other various stressful events which will cause the attrition of a peaceful emotional state. It consumes your body, drowning it in a state of numbness. It is waking up and waiting for the sun to rise, then realizing it has, and you feel nothing. You’re unable to adequately feel, instead you just soak up the information, let it process and then slowly it tears you apart inside. Martha Manning said, “Depression is such a cruel punishment. There are no fevers, no rashes, no blood tests to send people scurrying in concern, just the slow erosion of self, as insidious as cancer. And like cancer, it is essentially a solitary experience; a room in hell with only your name on the door.”
Even though the air may be filled with warmth and light, your soul still shivers from the darkness you feel within. It can be inescapable and all encompassing. But every now and then you’re able to break free gasping for freedom, and then, you feel it. A feeling so foreign to a somber face as your lips break away creating a smile, and laughter spills out. It is a temporary feeling of euphoria. Depression cannot be healed nor fixed in such a simple manner. The bliss of a moment can be swept away like the rolling tides.
Depression is the mind’s own prison enslaving the body into a state of numbness. It reduces your sense of life and worth. Your ambitions in life diminish to nothing but an extraneous and almost and imagined hope. You find company in thoughts of bereavement and in them you walk side by side with Thanatos. His promise for an end enwraps your stained and damaged soul, taunting you to give in, to give up. More than anything you want to, but for now you settle for something less permanent and slip into a state of unconsciousness.
When you wake in the morning you find yourself looking forward to when you can sleep again. But apathy will seep into every crevasse of your life. Waking up becomes onerous, an impeding challenge to the day, and you realize it really doesn’t matter if you get up or not. So you allow yourself to slip out of reality once again. You wish everything could just be normal again, to be able to breathe without the weight of the world pulling you down. Elizabeth Wurtzel said, “That's the thing about depression: A human being can survive almost anything, as long as she sees the end in sight. But depression is so insidious, and it compounds daily, that it's impossible to ever see the end. The fog is like a cage without a key.” It’s an abusive cycle of self-defeat, but the cycle itself can also be defeated. The vigor of life does not have to end in a requiem. But the daunting question lingers, haunting the bruised and battered mind, where can victory be found?
Depression is a daily battle and waking up each morning is a victory. Perhaps the greatest thing a person with depression can do is see the world through someone else’s eyes, for theirs have become tainted by the sorrow this world has to offer. Such small victories can be hard to recognize, but once they are the battle is half won. It opens doors to see your potential and greatness, it is an expansion of hope and a small flicker light at the end of the tunnel.