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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2014127-Depression-Thoughts
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by Ardynn Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Other · Dark · #2014127
My depressive thoughts.
Do you know the feeling of when you see something and it completely breaks your heart? Either see or read it. And when you read it, it is so utterly devastating that it crushes down to your soul? That in one moment before, you were happy. You thought you were going somewhere. You were truly and utterly ignorantly happy. But then you see it. And once you see it, it sickens you. You feel it deep within your stomach and deep down to your soul. It shakes you. And you can never un-see it. It is in that same moment you realize that everything you have been told, the things you felt were truths and the trust you built, is all just a complete lie. You thought you had a life. Thought you had this ability to make something happen with this one thing. You felt good about yourself. Felt that you mattered, that you were cared about. Then, you have to work away at repairing yourself. It is so difficult that few ever achieve the full repair and simply bounce on and on seeking out a relationship to fill a void that another left. They seek for this “new person” to assist them in fixing themselves. However, for some of us, we were able to heal ourselves. Bring back the former soul we thought would never leave us. But, our soul is never fully healed. It is never fully what it once was. For every time that something tragic happens it takes a piece of your soul with it and that you can never regain it. It is gone forever.



Well, after that happens a certain amount of times, the pieces that are missing and shattered are unrecognizable. They become more and more difficult to piece back together. The missing pieces, forever being gone, leave holes in this soul of yours. Eventually, when these times happen you no longer attempt the rebuild. You no longer seek out that happiness again and realize that the only thing that will ever happen for you or to you will be nothing but bad. No matter how hard you try or how hard you work. But there is a strong and complicating plot twist. Not only are these things happening to you, or happened to you, now you begin to say this to yourself. You begin to blame yourself for this. Thusly, the soul begins to crack more. You no longer continue to fight and strive to better yourself. You no longer wish to maintain friendships. Slowly, you float into this endless feeling of despair and distrust. The simple idea of being around another being upsets you; anxiety tightens your chest and makes it impossible to breathe or think.



Yet, at the same time you long for the connection. You learn to be with another person, codependent in a way, wanting to see the life of others around you. Pay attention to where they are from, what happened to them. What makes that man walk with a limp in the park? Why is that young lady crying? How long has the old, married couple been together? You think about the world, how large it is and amazing at how many people are in it living out lives and similar and complex as your own. Realizing for a moment that there is more than just yourself, and yet you still feel so alone. You want to be a part of that world, taking all of it in. Feeling the sun on your skin and the sand beneath your toes. The urgency to feel this connection at all costs pulls at you and invades your every waking thought. Yet, you are terrified. What if you speak incorrectly? And you kind of do walk funny, and well today there are new cuts and new marks, maybe some other time? But there will always be an excuse. You never go out of your way again. You never give yourself to anyone else. You can’t take that risk. You are broken after all. If you cannot put back in the pieces, no one else ever will be able to do so. How can you expect another person to do something that you cannot do? How can you be sure to trust them? What will they do if they find a really delicate piece and drop it? What will you do? You can’t afford to lose any other pieces they are so small now that they could be considered pebbles.



It is better not to take that risk, you’ll convince yourself. Choosing to live a life in which you are alone, no one can hurt you, nothing can hurt you. And to that place you sweep up your still shattered pieces, and taking extra care for the most fragile, you slowly sweep them into the safest oblivion you find. You sit with them watching over your pieces. Convinced that this is the best life for yourself. You are keeping yourself safe, no one can hurt you, or your pieces here. There is a trade off in this protection, once you are in it, it consumes you. This protection comes with the price of being “cold hearted”. People will see you as callous, they will see your cuts on your arms as jokes, the fake smile on your face as happy. When you cry, you will be seen as weak, if seen at all. With this you will block out all love for you will feel it is only here to hurt you and thus, the cycle of self-hate will continue to flow

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