People never understand. It’s always the same. They tell me that I just need to be positive, that I need to stop feeling sorry for myself. They tell me it’s my own fault for hiding away, I just need to get out and everything will get better. They’ve even told me that I am weak.
I wish that just for one day they could live like this. I wish they could just feel the way that I do, then they wouldn’t be so quick to judge. They would know what it’s like to have to force yourself to get up even though you don’t want to. They would know what it is like to see the negative in everything, even when you want to be positive.
Sometimes there is no reason for the way I feel. That’s what I can never explain. I shouldn’t feel like this, I can’t see what could possibly be wrong. Everything is there. A job, my family, my friends. All that I need. Yet no understanding, no empathy is what creates this distance.
I don’t want your sympathy. I never have done. I don’t want you to stand there and tell me you understand how terrible it all is. I don’t want you to tell your friends about me and how awful it must be. All I want is some understanding. A look of understanding is worth a million times more than a look of pity.
When I push you away it’s not because I want to. It’s because it’s the only way I know. It’s because when I’ve reached out in the past I too have been pushed away. The people I thought would be there to help, they aren’t. I know though, that I have to help myself, it’s just that the feelings of despair and worthlessness make the distance to reach so much further.
I want to run. I want to run so far away. To a place where nobody knows who I am, a place where I don’t have to get to know people. If I don’t know them I don’t have to hide from them. But, if I run I am not running from everyone else, the only person I am running from is me. And I know all this. You don’t have to tell me. Irrational. I don’t know what rational means anymore.
Another day is through. Another struggle, tomorrow I will try and reach out. For now I will drift off into dreams. The place where there is light, the darkness seems so distant. The place where being irrational is no longer a fault. I can go far, far away. My dreams. Bedtime is my only escape.
This account is from a fictional person. By writing it I am trying to bring awareness to how people with depression feel.