Depression

Someone once told me that there are days where we are up high in the sky, and where we are down below…probably lower than the surface. And that it is normal.

Normal.

Someone else told me that when we feel sad in reaction to something that’s supposed to make us feel relieved (like lost-cause relationship that got broken up), it means that we are grieving. Grieving the loss of what’s being replaced. Even if it is supposed to be a good thing, and it is. But it is normal to grieve.

Normal.

Today, someone told me that he doesn’t feel normal. He feels lower than the surface everyday with a facade that says otherwise. And he feels that his kind of grieving is never-ending.

Depression.

Last night, I allowed myself to sink low, grieve, and feel sorry. Numbing whatever I was trying to express. And just spoke to random strangers on social media to fill the void. The void of being totally alone with my thoughts and feelings.

Depression. It comes and goes, but there to remind that it will always be around. Not amounting to whatever dreams and ambitions created.

Depression is not normal. It isn’t just what it is.

 

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