Depression is such a funny, horrifically controlling creature. It claws up your spine and grabs hold of your brain, flipping off switches and dimming down the lights until there's nothing but a hazy darkness in your line of sight. It knows not of discrimination, and hunts silently for any, and everyone.
I've dealt with the creature for much of my life. Periods of darkness so deep that its hurts to smile. "But why are you sad? What's wrong?" It's not something you can answer. How can you say - there's nothing wrong. Everything is fine, but it's just you. There's something wrong with you, and it's like a cancer that has your mind attacking itself.
It gets to the point that you don't know much else.
When the pills begin to do their job and your mind gets just a little bit clearer - how do you live now? How are you supposed to go on when you've had this defining parasite that's been your companion all these years? Something that's always there and watching, but then it's suddenly gone. You've gotten so used to the dark, so used to the hazy cloud of nothing that envelops you, so how the hell are you supposed to look into the bright sun and breathe the fresh air and see life as it would have been? How is that supposed to happen?
No one ever tells you how hard it is just to be happy, especially when you've spent your entire life living in a fucking mental hell.
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