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I Died That Day

Where It Began

By Kisha HollerPublished 6 years ago 3 min read
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Imagine a warm blanket wrapping around your body. At first, everything is fine and you barely even notice that your very being is slowly being swallowed. As time passes, you try to wiggle out of the blanket — what you once thought was warm and cozy is actually full of holes and so very cold. Struggle as hard as desired, but the blanket only wraps tighter around you. Soon, you are so very cold, your skin screams and begs for freedom and you cry and scream out, but no one comes for you. To the outside world, it looks as if a person is just lying there with a blanket, nothing more. Only you are aware of the battle you're facing and, before you know it, the blanket has encased your entire body. You cannot breathe, you cannot cry for help, you cannot run. You lay drowning in the darkness as a seemingly simple piece of material digs into your skin and forces its way into your mouth and nostrils. There is no point in coming for your eyes, for when you try to look, all you see is darkness.

This...This is what depression feels like. Only those who have it feel its suffocating nature, and it is far too often dismissed as a smaller danger than it actually is. This is sad, but it's true at the same time. I remember the day depression hit me with full force, coming at me silently but ever so deadly still.

Sadness seeped into my soul at elementary age. I did not realize that I was depressed until my senior year of high school, when it all came crashing down upon my unaware head. I was sitting alone underneath the night sky, letting the grass lick my legs and the warm air graze my body. Cement wrapped around my lungs, and I had done a good job of ignoring it until it became too much and my lungs shattered under the weight. It hit me so suddenly, like an unforcasted rain. My mood was neutral, that is, until depression broke free and ravaged my body.

My body, my poor body shook violently as sobs grew in my chest and tore their way out with such ferocity that I feared I would burst. Dark voices whirled around in my head in a heavy fashion. I could feel them dragging me to the depths of insanity, to my grave. I listened to them. I listened and I listened, hoping their vicious words would end if I could just ride them out. They didn't. The voices grew louder, yelling every single thing I had done wrong, telling me of my worthlessness and screaming hopelessness so loudly that I thought I wouldn't hear anything else ever again. That was the moment my vision plunged into darkness. All I could feel...was sadness.

My veins filled with ice water, I could feel it even though I already felt that my entire being was plunged into an icy sea. I was sinking, sinking into nothingness. I called out for someone, anyone, to plunge into the sea and drag me out of my grave, but no one heard me. My body was tossed about in the freezing water for so long that it became normal to me. I didn't feel the cold anymore, in fact, I didn't feel anything.

The light had abandoned me and I couldn't bring myself to care. All the joy I once had vanished and in its stead all that was left was sadness. Terrible, cruel, sadness. My entire body filled with sand and I tried to drag myself along, to keep fighting, but the weight was too heavy. Hopelessness and despair were my only friends. I accepted my crushing sadness, even became comfortable with it. Although it made me absolutely miserable and I longed for death every second of the day, it became a strange comfort. I had long forgotten what it was like to feel happiness. To feel...anything.

depression
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About the Creator

Kisha Holler

"I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity." -Edgar Allen Poe

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