It's time to open up.

So, I suffer from depression. There, I said it. Its out in the open. No shame to it , nope. Then why do I feel a sinking feeling each time I hear that word associated with me? Like as if it was possible for me to sink any lower than I already have. I'm quite literally in the 'depths of despair' as one would say. Unlike how the word sounds, there's nothing beautifully tragic or romantic about sinking to a new low. Tragedy , sorrow, loss….these never are anything even remotely romantic. Why did I start writing this piece again? Ah yes, I was going to talk about how depression feels.

I am an 18 yr old law student, attending a prestigious law school . My college is great, my friends are great, I'm very much in love and even the future of my relationship with my family is looking optimistic. Then what could possibly be wrong? That’s the key isn't it, this is where it all starts- the answer is the MIND. I'm undergoing therapy and taking prescription drugs to treat my problem. But everyday I doubt whether, its working for me. Each day is a battle I have to fight to keep myself from slipping on the edge and plunge into the void forever. It might sound like I am exaggerating my experience in order to get it across better but trust me when I say I'm not; the struggle is real. I constantly search for things to do that will keep me happy or occupied. I'm always looking to escape my reality. Because my reality, my mind, scares me. Its easier during the day when I have classes because then I'm busy and don’t have time to think about anything else. But the moment I have even one second of reprieve from whatever activity I'm busy with, it comes back. I don’t even know what 'it' is. It feels like a jamboree of everything- profound sadness, a feeling of great loss, lack of enthusiasm, hopelessness, negativity and what not. It's almost like a dementor has made it's home inside my heart and is slowly but surely sucking the very life out of me. When I do something I enjoy, like watching the sunset with my best friend at our secret spot, I feel good inside. I tell myself I'll do it again. But the next time I have an opportunity to do that, I lose all will and enthusiasm to do it. I know I want to, but I don’t want to. Does that make sense? No, right? Its like my brain has split up into two warring factions, each pulling me in different directions and I'm afraid the negative side is getting stronger day by day.

I loathe happiness sometimes. I resent people who are happy. I want to be happy for them, but I cant be. And that annoys me, so I resent them instead. Its easier than trying to win over side that says "don’t be happy for them". When I'm with people, I put on a mask. I'm quite the natural at it to be honest; been practicing my whole life. I have to smile at them, be nice to them, say kind things, pretend that I'm interested in their lives and act like I'm happy for their good fortune. In reality all I feel is numb inside. I hate that everything in the outside world is so normal and moving on without so much as caring two hoots about what's raging on inside me. The suicidal thoughts have come back , they are always in my mind when I'm feeling my lowest. But I'm a coward so I never take the extreme step. I dread nightfall. I can sleep fine because of my meds . But the time between lying down on the bed and falling asleep in the scariest. All sorts of fearful thoughts swirl inside my head. I cry for no reason. Maybe there is a reason but I just don’t know what it is. My mood swings have the fastest oscillations I've ever known. One moment, I'm smiling, the next moment I'm breaking down over God knows what. That’s one of the times you feel the silliest. People ask you what's wrong but the best you can say to them is "I don’t know". Your loved ones might sympathize but they’ll never empathize. Even they have their breaking point. They cannot be strong and supportive forever. Meeting your emotional and mental needs will eventually take its toll on them . I live with this fear too. The fear of losing the people I care about to my depression. I would never forgive myself. Another side effect of this condition is self judgement. You cant stop judging yourself for things. I judge myself for being so vulnerable, less able, less functional and less productive. I am a writer. Nowadays, I don’t feel the urge to write. I want to write, but I cant. Not that my creative faculties are not functional but its my depression saying "you don’t need that, just curl up on the couch and sleep forever". And I hate it when that happens because writing is my way of venting and I'm letting my effed up mind take control and say I cant do something I like. Worst part is I cant even help it. Everyday I fear that I wont get better, that I will always be this way; dead and numb inside.

I've always been a fighter. Throughout my life. I've been able to stand up to my problems and say "I got this". But off-late I just can't. I feel like a coward. I am not able to fight my fears, my troubles and my thoughts. My mind is taking over control leaving me with a feeling of complete vulnerability and helplessness. You must understand, that for me, someone who's always gotten the better of her mind at every turbulent point in her life, not being able to control it all of a sudden is a huge shock. I feel ashamed. . I feel like I'm losing my identity everyday and end up trying to desperately grasp at vestiges of my older self. So when I try to do things that my older self would like, would enjoy, it is actually a coping mechanism for me. I need to do it because that’s the only way I can convince myself that the good part of me, the part that is full of life and excitement and verve, still exists. Sometimes, just sometimes, this give some hope. Maybe not all is lost. But the very fact that I address myself as a confluence of two entities , disturbs me. I cant help overthinking about anything and everything. But even the overthinking is interspersed with negativity. I live in fear of people leaving me and even have recurring nightmares with the same theme. I don’t know where this irrational fear comes from but I keep getting a feeling that I'll eventually end up alone. I feel unloved, unwanted; no matter how much people around me try to convince me otherwise. A part of me likes all this darkness inside me. It wants the pain. Derives a perverse pleasure from all the suffering. I battle that part everyday and stay on the surface, barely. I'm scared of when I wont be able to fight it anymore; wont want to. That’s another matter of worry. That , though I'm trying to get better, I don’t actually want to.