I wrote this years ago, so long ago I can’t recall when. It still resonates with me now.
It’s certainly not the definitive work, or even my definitive work, on what is feels like to suffer with depression. Everyone experiences this illness differently, but there are some commonalities. As I read others’ work on the topic, the feeling of being profoundly alone and in darkness is one such commonality.
After participating in last night’s Twitter chat on suicide, I wanted to share this. I’m hopeful that it helps someone who can’t fathom how anyone could be driven to suicide to have some understanding of the desperation someone could feel. I’m equally hopeful that if you’re reading this and you suffer too, you are somehow comforted that you’re not alone.
Some days are not as dark as others.
Some days I sit in a small square of dirty sunlight
Which, some days, shines through a small square dirty window.
Those days I soak the sun into my soul
Willing every pore to store its warmth for
Those darker days I know will come.
Some days I cower in a small dark dirty corner.
Those days even the dimmest light burns my eyes.
Those days I implore the light to cease.
Those days I yearn for longer darker nights.
Some days there is nothing but musty darkness.
Those days, I clutch my knees to my chest.
I curse the darkness, and myself for willing it.
Those days I search for any shred of the meanest light.
Those long dark days slide into longer darker nights
And I too long have been deprived of light.
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