I have been depressed for at least five consecutive years.
I have began new years depressed at least five times, consecutively.
But I didn’t know it, and I didn’t want to know it, yet somehow it still caught up with me, even in what I thought were my happiest moments.
I often find myself so jealous of other people who have blogged about their depression and were depressed for a lesser amount time and can say they’ve beat it. They beat depression — their three-year time span of it — and they’re just done. Finished. Goodbye, depression!
It’s so frustrating, because each year I’m more and more upset with how I can’t seem to get an adequately strong grasp on it and turn it around and mess it up instead.
I have a hunger food cannot solve.
I long for a relationship another cannot give me.
I long for an understanding family will not give.
I dream for an acceptance shame will not allow.
Everything I want and try my hardest to obtain is connected; if one falls, the other falls, and if one doesn’t happen on time, the other doesn’t happen on time — and it repeats.
Glory and gore really do go hand in hand.
I’m just tired of depression. I’m tired of everyone thinking I’m lazy and like I need to do blank instead. It’s in the past, but it isn’t over.
It’s not over because I’m still suffering. As if I even needed a reason to still be depressed, it also isn’t over because I’m still being harassed.
But overall, I’m just tired. I’m so tired of these feelings. I’m so tired of society’s ignorance on the matter and their need to keep it hushed.