A closed door

A closed door. A lock and key. A deadbolt. A sinkhole. what is depression to you? Depression is the closed door next to you or in front of you. Depression is literally the closed door in your bedroom. Picture this, a normal room filled with pictures and Knick knacks from the life that you have lived. You wake up from your 14 hour nap, you look around, stretch, feel the bones, and muscles that make up your body, look outside, you are fine. You think maybe today is the day, the day that you are going to go to school, work, whatever. You are in your room and you feel fine. But just as you think about getting up, it hits you, the painful and devastating idea of leaving the room the idea of stepping across that threshold breaks you. It throws you to the ground and steps right on you. It pushes you into the carpet you picked out with thoughts that it wouldn’t matter because you wouldn’t spend too much time in there anyways. It smoothers you into that less that ordinary carpet until you are one with the nothingness. Depression is looking at the wall and crumbling beneath your thoughts. It is thinking today is my day and thinking of all the failures and stuff you haven’t done and the day being ruined before beginning. Depression is the thought that tomorrow you will get it all done. Tomorrow is your day. I plan it out. Tomorrow, I will get up and shower and get dressed. I say by 10 to get a normal start on the day but trying not to put too much pressure on myself. I think I will eat and then sit in the dinning room and knowck out all my makeup work. Then, I will go to school the next day and turn it all in. The next morning I sit in my room with an elephant on my chest. I scream I want to be free and laugh and love and as soon as those words cross my lips tears fall from my eyes. The feeling of emptiness and tightness crushing my soul leaving no room for the light that comes from the love and happiness. I’m lost. I’m deeper than I have ever been. I’m far from okay. I want to be there I want to be with you but I cant. I want to be who you want me to be. I am in love with you, cant you see that. You cant. I’m too deep into a hole that I cant get back from. As I climb higher to escape my hole I find that my hands that are scraping the sides of my hole are digging me deeper. I thought the fingers attached at my knuckles on my hands would be tools to help me escape but it turns out that another part of my body is betraying me. So as she looks up the girl asks… “But how do I get back?”