Don’t keep it bottled up … one of my therapist use to say that, well actually all of them use to say that. But how do I do that? I have never really gotten a road map to guide me in sharing my feelings. Especially those most dark and desperate of emotions. Sure there were moments when my emotions would come spewing out of me, but too often they would not take the form of words but manifest in my most destructive tendencies. I have become quite good at hiding too; I am very good at painting my face in masks of acceptable social conventions.
How do I share that although I look perfectly fine on the outside; inside I am crumpling under the weight of my misery – I cannot. There’s just too much. Too many feelings swirling like acid cyclones in my body and mind – too much radiating pain. It hurts – attacking from inside like deadly poison. I cannot even cry – I am hurting and I can’t cry. I can’t speak – I am trapped, silently screaming in my head where no one can hear me. Slowly suffocating, slowly dying – that’s what it feels like. I would rather lose an appendage than continue to feel this pervasive agony.
Who would want to share this burden, who would want to hear the pain of my existence? It is a load too heavy for me to shoulder, yet I am afraid that speaking it will cause grievous afflictions in my listener. So I cannot share this sickness – its contagious sadness already infects the small number that I call friend. I will do no more harm.
So I sit here quietly fighting that black cloud that has once again ensnared me. This shameful wretched demon … depression.