The relapse

I have recently had a relapse of my depression. I haven’t wanted to write anything about it, because, to be honest, I don’t really want to talk about it. I put on a mask as best I can, and the more I pretend, the easier it is.

I feel though that it is very important to speak out about depression and mental illness, because when we keep it bottled up and hidden from view, it is easy for society to keep it stigmatised.

But although society needs to talk about it, I don’t.

“I put on a mask as best I can, and the more I pretend, the easier it is.”

I’ve written the below about how I’m feeling, but I’d ask anyone reading not to try and engage me about it in real life. Please just take this as it is.

I am hopeful for the future though. I’ll be fine once ‘she’ has gone…

There’s a big, dark cloud in my eye line all the time.

I feel empty inside. Lonely. Like a piece of me is missing. A hole is in my heart.

The bitch is back. The fog of depression. The grey filler of days. I feel paralysed by her. She controls me, although I try to fight her.

“She is toxic and vile. She lies, constantly. She drags the people I love away from me.”

I haven’t felt this bleak in years. I feel heavy as lead. The smallest thing makes me burst in to tears. My eyes feel heavy and sore. She makes me feel weak, when I’m desperate to be strong.

She is toxic and vile. She lies, constantly. She drags the people I love away from me. She seems romantic and mysterious, but her constant presence in my life is tearing me apart.

I thought she was gone out of my life, but here she is back again, causing trouble. Her unwelcome presence haunts me. I try to shake her off, but she’s taunting me, laughing at me.

She is a monster. I wish I could slay her.

I just want everything to go back to the way it was, when the mistress depression was in her box and I didn’t feel like she was my only companion.

“I hope with hard work, time, lots of love and support, this time next year, she will be nothing but a horrible memory.”

I wish I could cast this black hearted mistress out of my life forever. I wish I could lock her back in the cupboard, or block and delete her from existence. I wish I could be rid of her.

I hope with hard work, time, lots of love and support, this time next year, she will be nothing but a horrible memory.

A blip on an otherwise happy life.

A bad chapter in a good story;

But not the end of the story.