Chapter 28- Nosy girls have the most fun

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I recommend listening to „human" by Rag'n'Bone Man. Enjoy, my lovely beings.
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I am sad.

That could be the answer to the question "How are you?"

Easy reply, right?

It could be, but I won't answer with those words.

Firstly, because I am not so keen on explaining why I am unhappy, and secondly, because I don't know if "I am sad" is as much of a lie as "I am fine".

I don't know if I am sad.

What is sadness?

What are those emotions I feel?

My mother would say it's laziness. I have to venture, breathe fresh air, sleep less, and walk more.

My therapist says it's depression.

But isn't depression something silent?

In our society it is seen as something we shouldn't talk about, we shouldn't disturb the victim of this terrifying illness, because it's a disgusting topic.

It's seen as laziness... just like my mother said.

Not every depression is the same. Some are workaholics and have the energy to do anything but still can't bear this life anymore. Often it is having no energy for basic hygiene. No strength to put on clothes. No strength to think about anything else than the war going on inside your head.

Crazy in its silent form, but I don't think this is true.

Not at all.

Most of the time I don't feel like I am crazy. I am just someone with no wish to die, but no wish to live either. Someone who is begging for help without wanting to invite you into their deep dark world.

Depression is seen as something silent. Suffering, the ability to be... nothing... anymore.

This is just from the outside.

Because on the inside it is anything but quiet.

There are voices, so many voices and they wait. They wait till I am so deep in my rotten hole, there is no way out. The voices inside me telling me to give up and my limbs refusing to move don't feel lazy or empty.

They are loud... and their screaming?

It terrorizes me.

Depression isn't the quiet suffering of an individual. It is the war between someone's mind and someone's heart.

Basic science you say?

A chemical imbalance, you say?

Not enough endorphins, you say?

There is nothing basic... nothing easy about dying.

About a dead person living.

Because I already died.

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