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My Depression

Deep Rest

By summer sheehanPublished 6 years ago 4 min read
1

It's like a hole. I'm walking without a care in the world until I fall. It's a deep dark hole that never ends, but I don't go easy. I grasp to the sides and I cling for my life because accepting my fate would be surrendering to the darkest parts of myself, and I still can't accept that she exists. She's ugly, worthless, she's never good enough. She won't amount to anything so she can't be part of me.

I know this place all too well. I've fallen before, again and again. No sense of self, belonging or purpose. You won’t hear from me until I’m ready to come out of the cocoon that I never truly left. I never really emerge from the comfort of the home that holds the ugly truth, and if you thought I did, that's what I wanted you to believe.

Depression. Her physical, mental, and emotional states are in a deep rest. I can't come today, because I could never show you her. So I just say I'm tired, busy, I'll be free tomorrow. Because I am who you see me as. My understanding of myself is who I understand you to see. My self image is based off of the fantasy of what I THINK your perception is. If I hide that she's really a failure, I won't have to claim her as mine. So I will just hide her until she's gone. I'm used to this. I've gotten great at this. Ever since the first day I woke up and I realized I was nothing.

And when the sun finally rises, it's like it never left. I'm back into life with not a thought of yesterday, so that I can ignore the guilt from being so lost. For doing it again. For falling back into the pattern that is the failure of my life. But now I’m fine so it doesn’t matter, right? I don’t relate with that person because I have no compassion for her. If anything I hate her. She sucks. She self sabotages, she’s not helpful to the progress I’ve made. She stains my positivity and tarnishes what inspiration comes through that makes me feel alive.

But she’s always there, and as much as I hide her, as much as I pretend she doesn’t exist, she comes again and again.

And yet, I’m beginning to see myself clearly. Not through my fantasy lens of your perception, but through the truth of my being and lack there of. I’m beginning to shed away the mask I wear while staring at my very own reflection. The parts I hide, the parts I don’t confront, the parts I bury and the parts I neglect, the shame and the disappointment, are the parts I need to set free. The more I wear a mask, the more they will push through. The more I resist they persist. The less I heal the more I steal from myself.

But can I be raw? Can I be vulnerable? Can I find the truth that hides and lies to you everyday? Because the person I want to be is just a MASK, why can I finally see this just now? I cover up with ego and distraction, all to hide the fact that I’m not good enough for this. I'm not worthy of being loved or achieving anything great. So I go on into the world with my favorite mask, it fits so well and feels comfortable on, but then she comes, again and again.

DeepREST: why am I so tired? Why does she always come?

Because I’m running. Constantly racing away from her. It's like running a marathon with a backpack full of stones, I can bare it down hill but then I turn the corner and reality sets in. Each step heavier than the last, if I just turned around maybe I could unload. Holding on this mask that maybe doesn’t fit as well as it once did. Pretending she’s not there, but maybe she’s trying to tell me something. All this time I thought she was the problem, but maybe she is the answer. Maybe she wants to be heard and seen, but the mask never wanted to lose a day in the light. The mask thinks it knows what you see, but thats just a fantasy, and she is me.

depression
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