Depression is one odd thing.
I’ve read descriptions and personal stories of it and as much as it has reasoned with my experiences, every time I feel it, I am certain that no words that exactly express the depth of its deplorable tentacles, or the broad degrees of unpredictable temperament, nor its whereabouts.
It sprouts out and about anywhere at any moment of one’s life and how uninviting and unwelcome its presence is to me, like fungus suddenly appearing on the most unexpected parts of food. It is the most disturbing, irritable party crasher and worse, it is stubborn as a mule to the point that I am forced to look within myself instead of blaming the uninvited guest and reflect if there had been any mistake or misunderstanding on my part which had made depression feel like it would be perfectly acceptable to barge into my party and ruin it.
Some people view depression in a good light as it was responsible for awakening one’s consciousness in the events around their life. It is a force and I undoubtedly accept that but I do not attribute it any positivity – how can I when its essential core is empty and hungry? It never leaves too so I’ve accepted a fate of multiple encounters with it throughout my life.
Oh depression. What will I do with you…
The end. (or perhaps, Never the end)
p.s. By the way, this was a creative expression of my thoughts on depression – I have encountered with it years before so at this point, I know how to tame and control it to avoid deteriorating my physical and mental self to the extent of needing critical support. Don’t worry! xx