Depression

Imagine that you fell into a muddy puddle, not only can you not pull yourself out but its downpouring and the puddle gets bigger and deeper, something that you were not prepared for. Not only were you not ready, you find yourself just wanting to stop the fight and just let yourself become one with the puddle. 

That's sort of what depression feels like. There are some days where everything is fine, the birds are chirping; life is wonderful and great. Then there are days were one will find themselves drowning in a pool of their own sorrow, not trying to fight it really, just wanting to stay back and wait for the sadness to wander away; although it rarely feels like it ever will.  

If you haven't noticed, I am a sufferer of depression, I'm just really great at faking it. [Screw you if you don't believe in such things; its real, and runs on the female side of my family. Why do you think we are all half-crazy] Call it a hereditary chemical imbalence, a period of prolonged saddness or just plain psychotic. I just call it apart of my everyday life. 

On my good days, the days were life is just peachy-keen, where I feel normal, balanced and the laughter that comes out of my mouth seems to flow from my soul. When I hate to be sleeping because it takes away from the things that I love: school, school work, work, family, friends and anything else that gives me a skip to my step. 

During my bad days, normal activities seem like a chore, and I have to fake the happiness that seems to allude from me.  These are the days where I want to sleep my life away because the sorrow doesn't seem to follow me into my dreams. It's because of these types of days that I feel like the fakest person in a room because the happiness that seems to radiate is all an act, just so no one will feel the need to ask me "What's wrong?"

Excuse me, what's wrong? I'm stuck in a neverending rollercoaster of emotions that no pill, bottle, drug, counselor, family member, classmate or friend can never truly help me get off of. To deal with depression is to deal with the neverending process of feeling like shit and hating yourself when there is no true reason to. Which is hard as hell considering that I love life. 

I just hate depression. 

I get so tired of being sad sometimes that all I want to do is cry. Cry until there are no tears left, and then go about my buisness like nothing happend. 

I must cry about 10 times a week. 

Don't put me on any type of watch, I would rather go through life battling my emotions than not living it at all. There are days that the only thing that gets me going is the fact that I am alive and I can not , truly, complain about much. 

....and for those who have heard my never-ending tale about my life before college, will know that I am a very strong person. 

It's 213am at this very moment, so I have to cut this blog short. Did I mention that I feel like crap because I am sick? 

Take a moment to observe the people around you, most of those people probably are not the person they really want to be. 

Isn't college great like that? 

....Does the feeling ever go away?