This is a poem that I wrote about what my* depression feels like.
*I say “my” depression not because I think that I am the only one to struggle with it/that it is a condition exclusive to me, but because depression can present itself in so many different, complex ways. It would be impossible for me to sum them all up in one poem, and nor would I want to do that. I think that it’s important for everyone to tell their own story. This is mine.
My Depression doesn’t feel like sadness.
How weird is that?
“Depression” is the name of the illness,
and yet,
Depression doesn’t make me feel
Depressed.
Depression just makes me…
not feel
anything,
other than numbness
and
emptiness,
a hopelessness of a different kind,
as my Brain is plunged into a black hole;
an Energy–sapping,
Dread–inducing,
All–consuming
blackness.
And then,
just when I think that I can’t be hurt any more
than I already have been,
I’m chewed up
and spat back out
as a shell of my former self,
&
I’m left
empty,
& hollow
&
gone.
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