A Dialogue with Depression

One of the realizations I came in tune with this year is that no one really talks about how they truly feel. I mean we ask so many people, “How are you?” on a daily basis and they subconsciously tell you how they are fine without a second thought. I even thought of what if we asked better questions like, “How are you holding up?”

You see it is easier to tell you “I am fine” because you don’t have the patience to listen to me whine.

I have a million and one thoughts rummaging through my mind. Make it a million and two because now I have to think of how to prove to you that “I am fine”.

So I give out a smile to back up my lie. Kinda like how I fake a laugh when I am around people, just to prove to you that I am happy. Or even worse; when I take a selfie. I haven’t taken a selfie in ages because I do not have the energy to fake a smile.

It is easier to tell you “I am fine” because you wouldn’t understand. If you say you will, then you are already missing the point.

You don’t understand what it feels like to love to hate yourself. You don’t understand what it feels to be a paradox. You don’t understand what it feels to need saving but to not want to be saved.

I am at the center of a wormhole, there is no better place I would rather be.

I am at the bottom of a sea. I am drowning in an ocean. I don’t want to be saved. I see the lifeguards reaching out to me, I see people swimming in to save me, but I drown deeper into the ocean so i would not be seen.

My mind is like an inferno. Only I created this inferno and in case you haven’t noticed, I want to stay there.

My mind is like a ticking time bomb; it wants to self destruct. My 1 trillion nerve cells have failed me, they have all turned against me.

Hello…Are you still there? Have you left? Or have you given up on me yet?

Oh you are still there…..But could you go away for a while? I need some space. I want to wallow in despair. I want to wallow in self-pity. I am tired of smiling at you. I am tired of trying to prove to you that I am fine.

How do you begin to understand that it is not love that I lack, yet i need it. And when I see it coming right at me, I go the other way?

How do I explain to you that i want this inferno to burn me?

I want my mind to self destruct.

I want my thoughts to delude me.

Don’t worry, I am not losing my mind. I just want to be dead.

Oops! I said that out loud. My bad. I have forgotten this is an inside joke only i can understand.

But is it really an inside joke or do I really want to be gone?

But “I love you”, you say?

You love me?

Do you love me or do you love the idea of me?

Do you love me or do you love the idea of my perfection?

Would you love me if I introduced you to my imaginary friends?

Permit me to introduce you to Mr. Anxiety. It is the reason why my hands are all sweaty.

Would you like to meet Miss. Overthinker?

“I think he is mad at you”, she goes

“You are giving him too much information”

“He doesn’t care about you”

“He will think you are losing your mind”

“STOP! When you are done, he would tell you are dumb, you are just making all this up”

“By the way, do you even remember the 4th Cranial Nerve?’

“You are just dumb”

“Maybe it is because you are always eating too much”

Oh I see you have met her. She needs not to be introduced then.

Would you still love me if you discovered my self-confidence was a facade? That I don’t believe in myself as much as I portray. That a mouse in front of a lion is even bolder than me in front of a 6year old?

What if I tell you the secret to my social media addiction? “You are always on social media”, you say?


So I tell you I am off to sleep at 11pm. You wake up to my last seen at 2am. You don’t understand the struggle I go through. Going to bed has become a tug of war. The thoughts in my head just won’t shut up.

“Remember when you were in nursery 2 and you farted so loud everyone heard the noise?”

“That was soo embarrassing”

“You are soo disgusting”

“I mean c’mon. you could have been more discreet”

“You should have ran out of class”

“Do you remember how loud your classmates laughed at you?’

“They even called you “Fart-tima” for the rest of the term.”

No please, I don’t want to talk about it. Just let me sleep.

Are you still in love with me or have you given up already?

If you haven’t then i hope you will stick around for when it is 10pm and I tell you about my dream to rule the world. You wake up the next morning. Its past 10am and I am not even awake. I mean am I going to rule the world in my sleep? You begin to wonder; Wasn’t I the girl who wanted to rule the world? Well guess what the world overpowered the girl.

The world sapped her of every bit of energy she possessed. She cried herself to sleep. She consoled herself. She said everything was going to be alright. She sang herself a lullaby to lull her to sleep. At exactly 3;45am she was finally asleep.

Should I tell you about the void or should I let you be like that?

You are tired already. I see the look on your face. You don’t understand. I knew you wouldn’t. These are the thoughts that I have to live with. If listening to it alone, exhausts you imagine how I have had to live with it. And you wonder why I often say I want to give up?

Now scroll up and read this again. Maybe then you would understand how it is easier for me to just say “I am fine”

When you are done reading this please, reach out to me. Ask me if I am okay. ask me if what I wrote is what I go through. Tell me to tell you if I have any of these one million & one thoughts. Tell me you love me. Tell me I matter. Be nice to me. I might push you away but I will cherish it. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to be consumed by this inferno. Tell me I am beautiful. Remember my name. Remember the times that I made you smile. Remember the times that we laughed together. Please, take me out to get ice-cream. Send me gifts anonymously. Sit with me in the depths of the night. don’t force me to talk. Just your presence is enough. Just reach out to me.

THIS my friend is a snippet to what it feels like to be depressed. Most of us will never understand what it feels like. But then there are a majority of us actually feeling this way. They are all around us. They smile so wide. They make the most jokes. They have the deepest laughs. They speak to you, how often do you respond?

Over the the past few months, I have come to understand that maybe just maybe depression is like every other terminal illness. The end game for depression does not have to be “suicide”.

I mean when a person is diagnosed with cancer, they don’t go off and fall off a cliff. No; they hang on. They have hope. They have hope that they could be cured. They undergo Chemotherapy. they learn to believe in God.

They accept that maybe this illness is a salvation for them. For every pain an individual goes through it shall be written in your good books. Like for how every pain you feel as a cancer patient you are being cleansed of your sins.

We need to start treating depression like a disease and not a taboo. Like how you would shower love to someone who has been diagnosed with cancer, likewise depressed person. You don’t have to commit suicide. People who are depressed are often atimes the best of people. You have so much potential in you. You could be the one to curb world hunger. The one who finds a cure to a genetic disease. The next Albert Einstein. YOU MATTER. YOU MATTER TO THE ECO-SYSTEM.

The plants need you. They need your CO2. They need you to ingest the O2 they produce. As inconsequential as this may seem, but even your faeces matter to them.

You have so much potential

Your presence could prevent someone from being raped.

Your presence could make someone weary of smoking.

Your smile could give someone hope.

Am I making any sense or am I just running in circles?

Excuse my ignorance, but I just want you to understand how much you matter. That there are people out there that want to save you from yourself. People who will patiently wait for you to get better. You don’t have to hate yourself when there is so many people out there that need your help.

The blind needs you to help him see the colours of nature by your art.

The deaf needs you to narrate to him the sounds of nature.

What if YOU could bring an end to depression?

Speak out now. Please, talk to a therapist. Reach out to a loved one. We don’t want to lose another Doctor, or a Lawyer, or Poet, or whomever. You matter.

Hang in there, it shall all be well in the end.

Remember; You are Owlsome! And we love you!