Category : Diary/Journal

Sub Category : N/A

I have asked.... but you won’t answer.
It’s not really the most practical thing to do, sitting on this comfortable couch, close to the power sockets that feed the batteries of the devices that keep me sane, in hopes of conversing with my depression. 
Saw a video or two today that reminded me of you. How inevitable you seem to be, lingering there in the back of my mind with all my motivation. You seemed to have made friends so easily, the way you put your arm around their shoulders, dragging them away with you and away from all the good intentions I had at the beginning of the day. 
It’s amazing how easily you can just sweep under the carpet whatever willpower I might have had when I opened my eyes in the morning, as if you were cleaning out space in my mind to fill it with.... what? 
It’s empty, it’s not filling up. My mind is empty, my mind is not thinking anything. My heart is empty, my heart is not feeling love anymore. So what are you trying to do?
I have listened.... but you don’t speak.
I listen to Bruno Mars again because his music makes me happy. But you keep covering my ears. His words seem light where it was once enough to hold me grounded. Now, it feels like wisps of smoke that pass out my mouth and then into my nose - dry, cold and destructive. 
You seemed to like the fact that it’s quieter now. Quiet enough for you to belt out your monologues of deprecation, deception and desperation with me as your only audience. I’ve seen this skit before. I’ve cried my eyes out at all the right punchlines. I’ve laughed at my insecurities as they dressed me up in the clothes you handed down. Clothes fashioned from careless whispers and walks down the downtown districts of my best-made memories now left to rot in a haven for the homeless dreams. These were the same dreams that got me through the nights. The same dreams that let me wake up with a sense of misguided optimism.
I have searched..... but you don’t show.
I try sitting at parks and white sandy beaches only to catch a glimpse of what once gave me hope. One is the unconditional, unwavering love which I once knew as a child or the freedom of having the horizon so far away your eyes couldn’t tell where the sky meets the sea. 
There was salvation in a dream. A dream that doubled as an image of hope a million miles away. But at least it was still there when I walked that millionth mile, wasn’t it? 
You choose to disagree with me.... you, who are my friend and enemy. You wipe away those images like a duster on a chalkboard that used to teach me that life was going to be what I made it out to be. You stand there like the teacher I never had. Lessons you teach I had never learnt for which I am no longer glad. Lessons of how the world was much bigger than I thought it would be. These were the same lessons that tell me I am only a speck which even my eyes would fail to see, a grain of sand where the land meets the sea. 
I have walked..... but you don’t follow.
At sophisticated desks, I’ve sat, trying to piece together complicated instructions, politic machinations, and graphic interfaces to achieve what little is needed of my meagre mental capabilities but I fail. I’ve called you to help me.... you, who are my friend and my enemy. Yet, you leave me alone and unmotivated, unmoving as the tides of time seemed to move on right through me. 
I see the ticking hand, the blinking dots on a Charles Jourdan watch I once owned when life was less of a worry and more of getting along with those that loved me beside me. But does this moment make all other moments feel wrong? I suppose not. 
I think, as I receive further emails and text messages reminding me of the work I have not done, these were battles of which in my head I had won. Yet now my head is bowed and my heart cowed from the reality I could not embrace the way you would embrace me at my lowest.
I screamed.... but you don’t hear.
Police sirens seemed to be a signal to me at times. It tells me that something in my world is changing, being dynamic but leaving me behind in my state of static. 
I tried sending out messages on the airwaves and the inter webs, calling for the help you refused to give me..... you, who are my friend and enemy. 
You smile at me from across my room as you sit in the closet that once used to house me in my moments of insecurity. But you don’t let me crawl back in and wait out this journey. I scream at you for putting me here in this perdition I did not deserve for just being me; this unhinged, unravelling mental capacity that is me asking for solace and maybe just a singular moment of peace to be. 
I have opened my eyes..... and now I see.
You see, dear depression, my oppression, torturous condemnation.... you are not my friend, you are my enemy. 
You sidled in on the backs of hormonal imbalances, dopamine and serotonin that once sang me songs of belonging in hugs and embraces now pushed out of the way by the bully that you are to me. 
You see, dear demon, my fears, evil damnation.... you are not my salvation, you are my degradation. You sit with me on the park benches of my mind only to tell me how I am doing it all wrong as my thoughts walk by smiling at me, yet you, I will now refuse to believe. 
You see, dear depression, my oppression, torturous condemnation..... you were never my friend, and your true colours I now see. 
The only friend I have in my mind is me. The one who gets me out of bed and through breakfast until dinner time is me, not you, who are my enemy. 
I sentence you to the back of my mind where I know you would never die but powerless you will remain and you will see.... you, who are not my friend but my enemy, what it means to be me. 
I will find my soul amongst the ashes of all you’ve burnt in your sadistic tendencies. I will find the will to be sufficient with being me. You see, dear depression, I do not need you like you need me.
Now, this is my dialogue with you - you, the muted few who suffer through this darkness that latches onto the backs of all of you. These words have answers, and answers you can find if you take those chances. Give those second glances and love the way the light dances. The world is yours, and in your world you are masters.