Life in the Box

Depression is a living nightmare. It is paralyzing. It is lifeless. It is numb. Depression puts you into a metaphorical glass sound proof box; you can watch your life happening before your eyes but you cannot speak, you cannot hear, and you cannot feel. You cannot vocalize a cry for help. You cannot hear loved ones even though your heart yearns to feel loved, to feel needed, to feel wanted. You cannot feel the pain that you have let alone sympathize with someone else – you are numb and your mind is overcrowded with blank space.

You are dazed. You cannot move. You have lost all control. Time passes slowly when you stare at the clock – this is your pace now, this is how slowly every moment passes for you. You do not feel real. You do not feel like you even exist – but you know that you do. Your body is here, you have to exist. But physical presence is about the only existence there is. Is it possible to feel solely like a thought of a human?

Watching your life pass by takes its toll on you. It drives you insane. It makes you irrational. It steals your hope and inevitably makes you hate yourself. Why? Because you see everyone outside of the box and you wonder why you cannot be with them, why you are feeling so much pain, why you are in this box in the first place. All the brainstorming falls back on you. Is it because you are weaker than everyone else? Are you actually being mind-screwed and none of this is even real?

The walls cave in and you grow more and more numb. You become critical to every movement you make, thought that crosses your mind and word that you say. You feel unworthy. You feel deserving of punishment. It is the only thing that makes sense right now – you are in this box because you deserve it, right? That’s the only conclusion that you understand.

You cling to everyone in your life. You learn to wear a mask because you expect them to dislike you, feel disappointment, be angry with you. But you know that none of that could amount to the hatred you feel towards yourself.

You feel alone. You feel damaged. It is painful how strongly you wish to feel normal.

Will this ever get better? Will this ever end?

3 thoughts on “Life in the Box

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