Victim
Depression sucks. One day, I am laughing and loving life and then there's another day where I am underneath the covers unwilling to come out because the sounds of life forces me to feel the worst of the bad feelings that are picked out specifically for my extreme, bad, and evil days where I am just unable to function. The covers are a shield that protects me from the feelings of discomfort but there is still that sliver, that small sprout of the open cold spaces that is my depression. My depression is like a fire, some days a beautiful energy that allows me to live my life like a glorious fire dancer that belongs in a marvelous circus, other days not even a flicker of light is allowed. Depression is never just one thing. It's never just one feeling. In my own experience, depression comes in many forms but it's always accompanied with all forms of anxiety. And the combination of those two evil beings is like a cacophony of dangerous feelings and emotions that I am just unable to control.
On my good days, people think I was lying about being so depressed. On my bad days, they tell me: "You were doing so well, what happened?" My emotions happened. My anxiety that screams at me in the middle of the night for me to grow the fuck up and just be happy, or my depression that explains to me how I was never brought on this earth to be happy, and I never have been so why start now. It brings up my tragic past. Alexx, a violent and abusive ex that, when told no, he would force me with a knife to my throat and rape me and dare I make a sound, use that knife on me and slice me like butter. My depression tells me my scars are reminders of how weak I was, have been, and ever will be. My emotions tell me that I will never be okay and some days, they even trick me into believing it. Depression isn't just a word. It's an emotion. It's that feeling of drowning, when you feel like nobody can bring you back to the surface again. Well for me, I feel like I'm 1,000,000 feet below the sea and struggling to catch a breath. The worst part is that I'm the only one who knows I'm down here.
There are people in my life that tell me I'm a victim, people that say "what's wrong now?" like I'm such a burden to their lives because I am not happy every second and it causes them frustration that I don't fall into a perfect cookie-cutter life. I am a victim. I have depression. There are days when I will not be okay at all, and then there are days when my life feels amazing. But just because I'm depressed, doesn't mean you have a right to judge the way I'm living my life. There are people that think I'm lying because I have certain good days and certain bad days. It doesn't matter if I don't want to do some things on some days because that's just being an adult, right? Wrong. It's not just not wanting to do things, it's the fact that you have the feeling that you're trying to breathe underwater and your lungs are being filled with water. It's not putting things off, it's the fact that everything around you is crashing down around you. It's not hating your life, it's the fact that you don't really believe anyone really knows what you're going through. And when people just shrug off your problems, you feel like every time you try to speak up and no one hears you, that you're becoming more and more invisible.
This is me. These problems are where I'm at right now. But just because I'm depressed doesn't mean you get to choose where I'm at. What's wrong now? Oh, you're not depressed. You're just dealing with things wrong. You're a victim and making yourself to be a victim. Don't fucking do that. Don't fucking call me a victim or roll your eyes and ignore the fact that I'm hurting and say that I should grow up and get tough. Because no...I'm not okay, but I'm working through it. So, just accept that I'm dealing with my shit and even though it might not be okay for you to deal with my shit so much that you're frustrated that I'm even around you when I'm like this, don't even bother. I'm done with people who pretend to give a shit. If you actually give even a single crap about me, you won't call me a victim. Even though I do have depression, it does not have me. I'll be okay. Eventually. Right?
On my good days, people think I was lying about being so depressed. On my bad days, they tell me: "You were doing so well, what happened?" My emotions happened. My anxiety that screams at me in the middle of the night for me to grow the fuck up and just be happy, or my depression that explains to me how I was never brought on this earth to be happy, and I never have been so why start now. It brings up my tragic past. Alexx, a violent and abusive ex that, when told no, he would force me with a knife to my throat and rape me and dare I make a sound, use that knife on me and slice me like butter. My depression tells me my scars are reminders of how weak I was, have been, and ever will be. My emotions tell me that I will never be okay and some days, they even trick me into believing it. Depression isn't just a word. It's an emotion. It's that feeling of drowning, when you feel like nobody can bring you back to the surface again. Well for me, I feel like I'm 1,000,000 feet below the sea and struggling to catch a breath. The worst part is that I'm the only one who knows I'm down here.
There are people in my life that tell me I'm a victim, people that say "what's wrong now?" like I'm such a burden to their lives because I am not happy every second and it causes them frustration that I don't fall into a perfect cookie-cutter life. I am a victim. I have depression. There are days when I will not be okay at all, and then there are days when my life feels amazing. But just because I'm depressed, doesn't mean you have a right to judge the way I'm living my life. There are people that think I'm lying because I have certain good days and certain bad days. It doesn't matter if I don't want to do some things on some days because that's just being an adult, right? Wrong. It's not just not wanting to do things, it's the fact that you have the feeling that you're trying to breathe underwater and your lungs are being filled with water. It's not putting things off, it's the fact that everything around you is crashing down around you. It's not hating your life, it's the fact that you don't really believe anyone really knows what you're going through. And when people just shrug off your problems, you feel like every time you try to speak up and no one hears you, that you're becoming more and more invisible.
This is me. These problems are where I'm at right now. But just because I'm depressed doesn't mean you get to choose where I'm at. What's wrong now? Oh, you're not depressed. You're just dealing with things wrong. You're a victim and making yourself to be a victim. Don't fucking do that. Don't fucking call me a victim or roll your eyes and ignore the fact that I'm hurting and say that I should grow up and get tough. Because no...I'm not okay, but I'm working through it. So, just accept that I'm dealing with my shit and even though it might not be okay for you to deal with my shit so much that you're frustrated that I'm even around you when I'm like this, don't even bother. I'm done with people who pretend to give a shit. If you actually give even a single crap about me, you won't call me a victim. Even though I do have depression, it does not have me. I'll be okay. Eventually. Right?
Comments
Post a Comment