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In the stillness of my own room, wrapped in the faint glow of fading daylight, I sat motionless. It felt like I had been trapped in my own body for a small eternity. The never-ending silence pressed into me, heavy and thick, and the air around me started to feel cold. It was in that very silence, the vast, oppressive quiet, that Depression arrived. She took residence in the silence between my breaths. I felt her chilled hands pull me close, pressing us together, as if almost to become one. At that moment, when I was face to face with Depression, I realized that the world had not gone dull, but my own heart had dimmed. 

Depression is a feeling of sadness and hopelessness that often results with the loss of a loved one. Depression can significantly impact a person’s emotional, physical, and cognitive well-being, potentially leading to difficulties in daily functioning. 

Depression hovered, like a midnight mist, almost going unnoticed in the stillness. While in the presence of Depression, I became aware of each breath, like it was something to be pushed through, like wading through water that feels too dense. I would try to move, but my movements were slow, disjointed. I couldn’t bring myself to care about the things I once loved. Not the music that once filled the air like the heartbeat of the world. Not the spring sunlight that once bathed my skin in warmth. Now, the world outside seems distant, far away, as if I were on the other side of a looking glass that had since been fogged over.

Depression does not need to speak to be felt. She is felt in the heaviness of limbs that refuse to rise, in the thoughts that loop endlessly like a broken record, each one more hollow than the last. Nothing matters, Depression whispers, a murmur so soft, so intimate, I would convince myself it was my own thoughts. You are alone, and nothing will ever be the same again. Depression was weaving a web of torment inside of me. She was pulling me inward, away from the world, away from people, away from anything that could be my refuge.

 

Depression wears no mask, no disguise. She is raw and unashamed, showing herself as she is, imposing, inevitable, like the night that swallows the sun. She doesn’t rush; she stays, lingering with the patience of something eternal, something uninvited but impossible to ignore.

Depression can significantly impact a person’s emotional, physical, and cognitive well-being, potentially leading to difficulties in daily functioning. There might be a loss of interest or decreased desire to engage in hobbies, social activities, or other things that used to bring joy. One might also find it difficult to focus on tasks, remember things, or make decisions.

Finally, my eyes had run dry, my body too exhausted to produce the simplest act of mourning. But Depression did not care about my exhaustion. She would caress my face with her ghostly, cruel fingers, coercing tears to paint long trails down my face. Depression hovered next to me when I tried to sleep, settling beside me with an oppressive weight. She came in the form of silence, stretching out into infinity, empty and vast. There was no comfort, no escape. Every moment was slow, suffocating, as if I were bound by invisible chains, unable to move or breathe freely. Every second was a struggle, a reminder that something, someone, was missing.

As the weeks passed me by, Depression grew bolder in her ways. She took on a shape, a murmur in the back of my mind that could not be ignored. You didn’t save her. It was a voice of accusation, callous and unrelenting. Depression told me that I should have known, that I should have seen the signs. It twisted the plethora of memories with my best friend into painful fragments, each one more jarring than the last. What had once been laughter and joy now felt like a broken song, a melody that fell flat in my ears, but that echoed with deep sorrow. I could picture my best friend's smile, hear her voice, but it all felt so out of reach, blurred by the fog that depression had spread across my thoughts.

Grief is not only emotional, it is deeply physical. The body can feel heavy and slow, like it's carrying the weight of the loss. Grief has been found to disrupt sleep patterns, leading to insomnia or oversleeping, and affect eating habits. These shifts are the body’s way of reacting to emotional trauma, it's disoriented, unsure how to care for itself.

Depression had slipped beneath my skin, settling into marrow and memory, making a home for herself in my silence. She watched quietly as I pulled away from the world I once belonged to, and she did not stop me. In fact, she guided me gently, convincing me that the world is safer when kept at arm’s length. Time lost its form in her presence. Meals went uneaten, calls went unanswered, sunlight filtered in but never quite reached me. Depression turned comfort into discomfort. A familiar room would feel foreign. My own body became something I no longer lived in but simply carried, like a burden. Everything ached, not with sharp pain, but with a dull, persistent absence. The absence of my best friend. 

Depression was a cruel punishment. There was no fever, no rash, no symptoms to send people scurrying in concern, just the slow erosion of my soul. This paralyzing being would simply remind me, over and over, that I was alone with my pain. That no one could follow me, no one could reach me. And in my most fragile moments, I would believe her.

 

I stopped reaching. I stopped hoping.

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