I’m just going to be upfront and state that this won’t be an uplifting post. 

People say depression and I hear it so often that it’s almost foreign to me. It’s different for everyone and this is my account on what it’s like to feel depression.

You know when you see a word over and over and it’s almost lost connection behind it. Depression. I’m always so surprised when I physically feel a pressing on my chest. It always sneaks up on me and I never see that my world is draining of color until it’s become pastel and I look back and notice when things started changing to me. Songs I used to love and feel deep within my bones no longer have the same effect as they used to. I hear a special song and it’s like the world melts around me and the only thing around me is this song and the world I build from the lyrics. That all changes though once I start feeling that pressure on my chest. 

Days that once had a vibe of brightness and a sense of having a new start just turn into a lazy vibe.

Songs fall upon deaf ears that hear the words but don’t see the vision. 

The sun shines down and gives off an orange hue. 

Colors drain and are no longer vibrant. 

Tastes buds, dull. 

Appetite, gone.


That’s how depression feels for me. I get so bored that I fear I won’t have enough things in this life to do that will occupy my time. I’m bored with living yet I fear being bored in death. I just exist at one point and that’s the scariest point in my downward spiral. To feel like your world has physically stopped. Imagine that classic scene from a  movie where the character is standing on a busy sidewalk and all the people around speed up and just carry on with life but the main character is still in the same spot, not moving. Life still carries on but their life doesn’t carry on like everyone else’s. 

That’s what people don’t realize about people who are depressed; they know life goes on but when you’re in it…it’s hard to just get out of bed. When I’m depressed, I know I am and I know the exact steps I need to take to get out of it but by the time I realize where I’m at in my stages I’ve become a sloth. I just can’t get the motivation to carry on and work hard to get better. I’m drowning, but I know how to swim. 

Most of the time my depression can be described as lypophrenia: a feeling of sadness seemingly without a cause. I don’t know why I get like this I just slip into it. I spend hours trying to find a cause only to come to the conclusion that there isn’t one. I guess it’s cause I’m bored with my emotions at times and I need to feel something else. This may be bad (can’t find the right word for this) but sometimes I like it. I like feeling something other than content with my life even if it means going downhill. It gives me something to work on. I get to work on myself and work on getting myself out of this. I guess that makes me a bad person because people with actual problems slip into depression and here I am getting some sick joy out of feeling like shit. Like depression equals another project for me to work on.

I wonder why I am the way I am sometimes. I worry about the way I am sometimes. Then I reflect on the things I’ve done just to entertain myself. The people who I involved myself with just because I say them as a project and not a real human being. I would get mad if they didn’t listen to me and would leave them and go for someone who would listen to me and would bend to my wishes. I didn’t respect these people, they weren’t real they were just things I could manipulate. No amount of apologizing can fix what I’ve done because I never said it to them. I only apologized out loud in the comfort of my own room so I didn’t have to face the question that I hate answering: “Why did you do it?” I never know the answer. 

Well this took a twist that I never planned for…should stop now. 

I’m not a bad person…I’ve just made bad decisions. 


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