Inspired by a loved one but dedicated to all of those people in the world who don’t give up. I know depression is a cycle, it is hard to be around, to witness, to be sucked into. Many times watching someone go through depression makes you exhausted and leaves you feeling helpless. But words do matter, your smile, your simple attempts to say hello.
Sometimes I feel too much so I fight to feel nothing. In my depression I am selfish. I am sorry I am too busy with me to worry about you…what about me? Do you love me? Do you need me? How would I know? Would you fight for me? Or would you just stay away until the depression has gone? I find reasons to justify how little people care about me to fuel my journey inward away from life.
Others can only do so much. I hate the cycle of depression that imprisons me, I hate others worrying about me, I hate thinking….Oh God…not again. I live to fight this curse another day because a few people care about me!
In her mind a beacon of light made its way through the solitary night sky landing next to her. She lied there feeling the warmth it brought. She realized she had been holding her breath afraid of the light and she flinched when it tried to hold her hand. It tried again as it whispered words she didn’t understand. She wanted the light to leave to let the silence bury her but it stayed, it whispered, it reached. The whispers began to slow and once again this light reached for me and in my exhaustion I let it hold my hand. She continued to gaze up at the endless void that had been trying to call her home but as the seconds ticked by the light that held her hand began to illuminate the stars. These stars a gift given to me, shedding their light on paths I couldn’t before see. Paths I could now clearly behold waiting to be taken, leading somewhere, waiting for me.