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Monday, November 02, 2015

Depression is a lonely disease.

It started with a mood dip. The usual thing that happens to people who have depression.

I tried to fight it, but failed.

It remained pretty harmless, until a news tweet triggered a severe bout of welschmerz.

- painful, unbearable sadness.

Nothing could stop the tears. Not even medication, not even expressing my thoughts through tweets. I reached out to J, he said, this pain will go away eventually. It still hasn't.

It became worse. The more I externalised how I felt, the lonelier I became. I reached out to a friend, and although, like most people who are -not- mentally ill, he didn't know what exactly to say, I felt comforted. But it was not enough. I still felt lonely, and as that feeling dwelled no matter how I tried to expel it, it turned into a sense of abandonment.

Again, a PTSD flashback feeling.

It made me hyperventilate, hide in a corner of the bed in covers; the tears continued. I felt unsafe. Nowhere is safe anymore.

Depression is a lonely disease. Friends will leave. Some people are hard for us to open up to, so the distance grows. New friends rarely appear, stay. Even in a socially connected world, a psych nurse is more likely to notice your tears than your 200 friends or your 1,400 followers.

I am so broken, can I even be fixed, so I can move on and fulfill my calling? If I die today, I will never know. Yet I am so alone in this pain I cannot rid, death would be a release. And I would rid the world of a burden, economically, socially.

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