Why I need to explain my depression and why I shouldn’t

Me trying to explain my depression to the society

I say, I can’t get off this bed no matter how hard I try, it’s like something is pulling me in,
And they’d say, try saying a prayer to yourself and think things you can achieve today.

I say, even thinking of all the things make me think how far I’ve come fighting this all along, giving me a reason to keep moving on, but now, it’s just fading away,
Maybe I could do it then, but today I can’t, and I need you to understand me,
I need you to caress my flaws and glimpse through my mind that maybe this isn’t purposefully,
That maybe this has nothing to do with the night three men assaulted me or the vulnerability I felt when he broke up with me or seeing my mom punching herself every day because she’d tired of hearing to my issues that seem so casual,
That maybe I’m not becoming what she wanted me to be.
They’d say, try looking at the brighter side, a little lamp can ignite the darkest corners with just a spark.

And I’d say, but my fire was thrashed down long back when they stopped believing in me, when I stopped believing in myself, when saying that it hurts, hurt other people, when all I’m trying to be is happy but happiness is kept at highest shelf of this cupboard of life and I’m trying as hard as I can to reach it; when my boat of rationality i sinking like titanic and I know I’ve hit the iceberg, I’m drowning slowly while you’re trying to please by telling me how I should learn to swim, do you know how cold the bottom hits?
They’d say, everyone has to go through hell to reach out to their idea of heaven

I’d say, I’m not looking for heaven, I’m looking for home. I’m looking for a place where I can rest my head, and speak out my heart without thinking twice and not crying in the middle of the lunch over a priced possession I lost in my childhood and how much I miss it all. I’m trying to explain you mother, that this place is dark and is feeding on my mind and my soul and if I’d walk an inch, I’d gon’ hurt myself with something is going to leave my foot sore.
So my mother would say, try lighting a candle,
But mom, remember that one in few years back when I blew my candles for the first time, I didn’t tell you but I was scared, I was scared because these candles were giving me all the sufficient light I needed and the right temperature, but I blew them.
And the minute I did, I was empty again, and since then I’ve been trying to light the candles of my heart, I’m fighting to find a reason not to fight, and it’s just sulking me in.

And my therapist would ask, do you ever feel lonely?
I’d say, lonely? I feel like I’m dying around everyone else and no one seems to be bothered, all they do is talk their talk about how they’ve been through thing and how they lost hope and gained it back, but hey, isn’t hope the candles I blew up on my first birthday? I know how it feels to blew it up, and I feel like a prisoner, a murderer, a criminal, a person living in guilt. Am I living life? Or am I dying a death? I don’t know. And sometimes when anxiety hits me, I feel like the walls of my room are on fire and there’s no fire escape, and shouting at my loudest that maybe some superhero would come and rescue me but nobody comes, and they’d say, there’s no fire, and you’re not on fire, what are you trying to burn down with that sorrowful mind?

And I’d say it’s my depression I’m trying to explain you of, and every time I try to burn it off, you rekindle it back into my bones.

– Neha Goyal


One Reply to “Why I need to explain my depression and why I shouldn’t”

  1. Hi Neha,

    Loved your post. Off late depression has silently crept into our lives and is harming us invisibly. We certainly need to talk about depression for our own good. Unfortunately we fail to acknowledge it in the first place and hide the depressed face from the world.

    Sharing your post on my FB wall. Need to spread word on depression.

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