No one cares about your depression, until you’re dead.

Life has a way of getting to you, one way or another.

It’s certainly getting to me these days, and sometimes just when I think things are looking up. Life says “hold my beer”.


I once had a friend who said to me “no one cares about your depression, until you’re dead”. She was right, but she was also one who didn’t have enough emotional depth to understand what depression was like either. You could try and explain it and only reply with “you’ll just have to change that”. Thanks, I’m cured.

Trying to deal with depression isn’t easy, it doesn’t matter how blunt you are in telling someone how you feel, they inevitably will show that they don’t care. There won’t be help anymore, and the odds of them ever seeing the signs that suffering are pretty slim, even then, they’ll just ignore them.

This kind of treatment to those who are suffering is what makes it worse, a lack of recognition. The symptoms start to compound themselves.

At the moment, I currently feel like I’m walking around floating six inches off the ground, and people look right through me instead of at me. Like I no longer exist. They talk over me and suffocate me into silence.

These are the hardest things I’ve ever had to deal with internally, and the simplest fix, at least to me. Is a hug, I literally feel like a helium balloon being dragged back down when given a hug by someone that I have some sort of connection with.

I struggle that I cannot see into the future any further that what my calendar appointments are for work.

Once again, I suffer in silence. Getting closer and closer to that point every day, and don’t see myself going a step back.

I continue to feel myself disassociate daily and I’m not sure at what point I’ll be able to come back down to Earth.

I have the only thing on my mind daily that feels like it’ll make a difference, and they are out of reach regardless of how much I stretch.

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