I am not starting a new topic to make friends or present a salutatory gesture.
I've been depressed for quite some time.
Depression. Where the person afflicted with the disease is the architect of their own dismay.
Well, I’ve built mausoleums. I don't have a reason to be depressed at all. My life is great. I have good parents. This must see like a slap in the face to those who have real problems (and for that I apologize). I still have the feelings that are associated with depression regardless of how good I have it.
Sometimes it’s like you’re breathing JUST to secure another minute in life in case JUSTt one of your hopes will come to fruition. And every time you exhale, the daunting reality is that, no- it won’t.
When a smile is just the paint on a canvas otherwise morose. Yes- I know that, that is a fragmented sentence.
It’s like, how do you keep telling yourself there’s no fire when you’re watching it slowly engulf everything around you. Inching toward your certain doom. And then you smile. And the fire inches away for a little while, or you drink, or do drugs, or just WISH the feeling away, and you forget that heat exists. But ignoring the problem only causes more anguish when one returns to their senses. The fire BLAZES with vindictive vengeance. In your dreams, it makes every bad situation seem real and leaves you gasping for air or scared. Perhaps it's even surreal; a lucid dream. A compilation of sorrow. Despair. And pain.
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