I didn’t think I would ever hurt this badly again. I can’t breathe without him. I don’t want to be alive anymore unless it’s with him.
Why can’t he see that?
I would give him what he needs if he’d only get over whatever stubbornness has come over him, opens his mind up to love and companionship and recognise what we’ve lost.
This is not the way I thought I’d be ending this term. If I cant fix this then I doubt I’ll make it to next term, honestly.
I feel worthless. I need a second chance with him. I need an escape.
Please, fucking please.
I’m looking pretty for you tonight, Darling.
Stockings to graze the hem
Of that sweetheart skirt I wore
That day when I kissed you
As we waited by the roadside.
Painted lips to rouge and they
Are the softest they’ve been
In a very long time.
I’ve combed and pinned my hair
But cannot help but run my fingers
Through as I light up another roll-up.
There are tiny paper-cuts on my fingers,
Darling, and bruises on my knees,
But I’ll hide these imperfections
If your eyes decide to wander.
It’s reaching eleven and the dewdrops
From the icy bottle in my hand
Are washing away the white musk
Perfume from my wrist.
I ascend the stairs to see you, Darling,
Waiting eagerly for a kind glance
From the one I love far more
Than the girl I see in the mirror.
Tripping slightly on the staircase,
I can feel my hair coming loose
As my stockings begin to slip,
The powder on my face suddenly
Assumes the pallor of newly-dead.
You won’t be waiting for me, Darling,
You won’t notice the delicate cuts
Just below my little finger.
You won’t be pretty for me.
For I have become your furniture,
Adornments for the simple surrounding,
So you won’t see the floral pattern
Of my lovely skirt.
You won’t notice my hands shaking
Or how my shoulder still gives me trouble.
You won’t notice my eyes flitting to your face.
Oh that face.
You won’t know how that face is all I see
When I close my eyes.
You won’t know me any more.
You don’t care to.
But still, I look pretty for you tonight, Darling,
For there’s noone else I want to do that for.
You cannot see it yourself
But it manifests itself in foul moods
And citric subtleties.
You won’t accept the self-inflicted,
Playing victim to your own bad choices,
Yet it does no good for your character.
Are tears really better than kisses?
Barricading yourself in your room
Or drinking yourself to death is
More fulfilling than lazing all bed in day
With a naked woman who longs for you?
Self-sentenced solitude brings more
Clarity to the mind than midnight
Contemplations of the universe?
I will never fathom you.
Little boys shouldn’t play with
Grown-up toys because
Someone always ends up getting hurt.
Ok, some people need to get their facts straight- I’m not trying to shit stir, I’m just trying to educate. I’ve been getting hassle for stuff I say online so don’t take offense, I’m genuinely not trying to attack anyone, just trying to articulate things that are important to me. Depression is so taboo and it’s ridiculous that you cannot express the way you feel to your peers without feeling like you’re being a misery-guts or people getting pissed of with you for “moping around”.
If you have depression you are not “wallowing in your own misery”. You’re not lingering on the bad in your life because you WANT to and you’re not attention seeking or over-emotional or whatever. It’s because you are constantly trying to avoid the thing in your head telling you to be miserable and it’s fucking hard, often inescapable. Sometimes you give in, sometimes it’s really bad. Sometimes it’s not so hard because you have outside reassurance that you’re not worthless. But it’s not under your control unless you’ve been taught effectively how to deal with it. You can’t just “get over” stuff and “move on”.
Certain things can make you happier temporarily, some kind of reassurance that life isn’t that bad, that you are valuable. You can become dependant on these things, not to consciously rely or put pressure on them but because you are desperately searching for normality, stability. It’s not logical, it’s not healthy and you can think they’ll be a permanent fix for you as they become your coping mechanism and allow you to feel again. When these temporary sources of happiness are taken away, you relapse. It’s worse than just loss- you lose confidence, stability, handle of your emotions, rationality, feel like nothing could make you better. You can’t cope like other people can because the chemicals in your brain wont stop reminding you of the happiness that you’ve lost. It’s a constant battle to stay strong although inside you have a compounded self-loathing, loneliness and fear that you’ll never feel that happy again.
You know what’s logical, you listen to advice, you know what others would do in your situation but you are such a victim of your own emotions and repetitive thoughts that you can’t see how to help yourself. It’s not that you don’t appreciate advice, you just can’t follow it. And the worst thing that people around you can do is tell you that you’re wrong or abnormal and get angry with you or the other extreme, completely indulge you in your misery and give no helpful advice. It’s ok to feel pissed off with someone who is depressed, it can be frustrating when it feels like you’re not getting through to them or they’re getting emotional and you just want to have a good time, but by bitching about them, cutting them out or getting frustrated with them you’re not helping anything. This person feels like they’re worth nothing and all you’re doing by deciding they’re not worth your time is making it worse. Someone going through a hard time needs understanding, tolerance and a firm, logical viewpoint. They need their friends to be their friends, distract them from the bad but also recognise when they need somebody to help them rationalise and talk with someone who wont belittle their feelings. Because you don’t understand what’s going on inside your friends head doesn’t mean that it’s not real to them.
Not everyone who is depressed has learnt how to cope yet, not everyone has been prescribed medication, not everyone is in therapy- it doesn’t mean that their illness is any less valid or real. If somebody has a imbalance of chemicals in their stomach, they suffer from stomach problems and get sympathy if they’re not feeling well. It’s is accepted by society that they’re handicapped and it’s not a weakness but something out of their control and they are given special dispensation. The same with heart conditions, the lungs, your kidneys- all other vital organs. An imbalance of chemicals in your brain manifests itself in emotional, behavioural symptoms, which are seen as weakness or abnormality by society but are no less crippling or deadly that other illnesses. Imagine telling someone with diabetes, who cannot control their blood sugar, to “get over it” and “control it”. It would be appalling. Without medical help, the knowhow and time they cannot. It’s the same for depression.
Getting that help requires a strength. You have to organise it all, give up your time, physically attend appointments. For somebody who is already finding it hard to cope with life this can seen like a big obstacle. You can become sceptical and rely on the temporary happiness’ to fix you on their own (which, of course they wont). It’s not weakness to seek help but it can feel like that. Sometimes you don’t seek it until you are at your darkest and so very desperate that you’ll try anything. Sometimes it can be hard to get the help you need because you can make mistakes when trying to get treatment and therefore the professionals who are helping you wont give you what you need. Sometimes you wait too long or are too introverted to ask for the help you really need and red tape can keep you from proper treatment.
I have been prompted to write this because I feel like people don’t take me seriously when I talk about being ill. They think I’m over-thinking, I’m over dramatic, self absorbed, making it up, exaggerating, self important, overly emotional, that I “enjoy worrying”… I’ve heard it all. Most recently I’ve been told that if I was really ill then I’d have sought help years ago so I can’t really be ill (by the same person who told me I was over-emotional to the point of not being rational, and dependant upon others for happiness… now what does that sound like a symptom of, huh?). It doesn’t excuse the way I behave sometimes and I shouldn’t let it define me but it is a presence in my life, no matter how much I wish it wasn’t. I want people to understand why I am the way I am until I can fix things because I can’t fix them alone and I don’t want for my friends and loved ones to leave me lonely because of it. I am who I am. I suffer, I cry, I can despair, I can do stupid things, I am at the mercy of the way I feel, yet I am trying and I will ask for help when I need it. If you cannot deal with that then be kind. Don’t get too close to me but don’t suddenly disappear. Don’t get angry but tell me truthfully that you find it hard to deal with. Don’t judge me as a bad person because sometimes my depression makes me act a certain way but wait until I’m feeling better and have fun with me. Don’t scold me if I become upset of seemingly nothing, just give me some time to be with people who can handle me when I’m ill and let me know that you’re wishing me well.
If you think it’s hard being around somebody who is depressed or you don’t understand it, think about how hard it must be to be depressed and feel like you’re worth nothing and you’re making everyone’s life a misery and constantly blaming and punishing yourself for wasting everyone’s time and making them feel uncomfortable when all you actually need to get better is the reassurance that people know that you’re not doing it on purpose and are there for you.