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The Voice of Depression

by Pauline G.

Safe Place for Writers, Recovery Café School for Recovery

Hello, Pauline, Depression here, huddling grumpily in your favorite chair, telling you that you don’t deserve to be comfortable.

Watch me take the best slice of cake and tell you that you need to watch what you eat.

Listen to me prod you to be more social, then make you screen all your messages.

Hear me remind you that you don’t look good in anything, but we’re not going anywhere anyway, so don’t even bother getting dressed.

Hear me remind you that your dad used to do the dishes for you, but he’s gone now because he killed himself, so you don’t want to deal with them and that’s why they’re piled this high in the sink.

Go on, think about vacuuming, and I’ll show you the hair on the carpet from your beloved dog that you had to put down.

Oh, need I point out that 95% of the things you think about throwing out belonged to someone you loved who is now gone. I’m going to use that to turn this house into a tomb.

Remember, I’m an expert at torture. I won’t let you sleep or eat. I’ve also convinced you that no one can help you. And don’t forget, I invented Stockholm Syndrome. I can make you love the pit I pulled you into. You know the pit is safe with no one to bother you. You know the pit is peaceful too, so let the darkness beckon. No one can survive a black hole, Pauline, and I’ve put one in your heart.

Go on, stare into the sun. You’ll still feel like you are in a pit of darkness. Remember, I’ve already given you a thousand cuts to bleed out of and I know how to away your senses, one by one.

First your food doesn’t taste like anything. Then you don’t want to listen to music.

Then the stone on your tongue falls into your throat and you can’t talk.

Then you look at things without really seeing them…

The numbness is almost total now. Just one more little push from me is all that’s needed to stop you from feeling your own heartbeat…

Except, your damn brother keeps hugging you! Even after I convinced you he would never understand us, you keep letting him in. I told you, you don’t need your brother. You don’t need anyone but me. Remember? I make myself your whole world because my life is nothing without you. Besides, I’m not going anywhere.

You can’t evict me, Pauline because you’ll be homeless before I am and then I’ll really fucking have you won’t I? That’s one thing that keeps you crawling back to me: Fear. Fear of the future. Fear of the world. Fear of yourself. You’d rather be with me than yourself because I convinced you that you’re worthless. It’s what I am and what I feed on. Your nothingness.

So every time you hear or see something that takes you away from me, I’ll tighten my grip. I don’t want you to see the hummingbird at the flowers in your backyard. I don’t want you listening to one of your favorite songs or eating your

favorite food. All it takes is a spark. You tried to burn me away with electricity. On certain days I let you think you succeeded. But all it takes is one surviving cell of darkness. I’m still the weed in your garden, and my roots are spreading. You keep trying to amend the soil, make things uninhabitable for me. It’s a never-ending battle.

Photo by VD Photography on Unsplash

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