I’ve hidden in the corridors of my insecurities as fortitude and protection. Salvation from the outside world. This is depression.
Fragility and thoughts pacing forward, backward, sideways, all ways. The absence of joy in love. In happiness. This is depression.
Switchblades and pocketknives are majestic. Plummeting is romantic. Drowning is beautiful. There are suicidal thoughts.
Depression: Chest caved in and blank mind. Eyes heavy and no reflection in stares.
Depression: lack of emotion and ambition/enthusiasm.
This was my depression.