the pain of depression

Posted on November 6, 2006



It gushes from deep inside my heart and flows through all of the veins and arteries of my body. It throbs with the beat of my heart. The pain of depression permeates every part of my body. It starts in my heart, neverending, throbbing pain. It ends in my head. Will my head burst from a thousand simultaneous thoughts full of nothingness, despair, endlessness, fear of loss . . . of those that I love. of myself . . . I’m losing me . . . to something . . . to what?

I know I must pull it together . . .. Pull what together? The nothingness? The despair?

I live daily with that lump in my throat, constantly on the edge of tears . . . or is it on the edge of sanity?

I awaken in the middle of the night, staring at the ceiling, ears filling with tears.

I awaken in the morning with dread . . . another day. Can I do it? Can I do another day? No! A day is too long!!! Can I do one moment at a time? I’m not sure. Can I get out of bed? I’m not sure. All of my effort goes into that first moment . . . I’m now standing . . .. What’s next?

Isn’t there something that will rescue me???

The preacher and prayer?

The psychiatrist and pills?

As they are doing their thing . . . I’m longing for a bit of relief from the tears, the pain, just for a little while . . . please.

~Written from the depth of depression . . . my first . . . and only . . . I hope . . . during the fall of 2006. While the preacher prayed and the psychiatrist prescribed pills, I sank deeper into the abyss and my thoughts became suicidal. Later I discovered that this last “sinking” was a side effect bestowed on me from the pills. I guess me and the pills were a mismatch. The psychiatrist guessed wrong and I sank. Just a medical complication in the midst of such deep pain. Ain’t life grand?

I needed to capture the intensity of the “abyss” in words so I would not forget . . . lest I forget the pain of others.