A Short Story About Depression.

Even in their happiest moments they notice the tip of dark fingers on their arms, the shadow behind them never goes away, it holds on. Every time they lay down they’re afraid they’ll fall right into the arms of the darkness again, the arms offer a temporary warm and welcoming feeling, the shadow tells them it’s what they really want, it’s easier this way, it’s easier to let the darkness control things. 

Even in their happiest days they have to constantly shrug the shadow off, it’s exhausting. They wake up ignoring the nagging of the brain “what will you choose today?” they try to eat breakfast, they try to shower and the shadow grows, gripping tighter. They lay down for 5 minutes... the darkness consumes them. Thinking of a yesterday a tomorrow, panic- guilt-hurt-emptiness. They can’t see anything but darkness anymore, they don’t want to, the shadow tells them the darkness is what they deserve, there’s a reason it’s there. Now it’s just them and the darkness, nothing else matters. They’ll go out, they’ll go to work with the darkness, they’ll smile whilst you talk to them, all the time the darkness is whispering in their ear warping your words and pulling them closer, tighter. Nothings matters. 

Then one day something matters. Maybe the dark isn’t right; the dark doesn’t feel comfy anymore. The arms unfold as their heart expands, the fingers retreat... but they never go away. The temptation turns into a reminder of where they could fall, they know every day is going to be hard work from now on.