By Aseem
Depression; something that has consumed the depths of my heart and occupied my silent mind for a while now. Six years to be precise. The agony of having the desire to spill your guts to someone close torn to shreds by the knowledge that you lack a confidante. These might seem too abstract for an outsider; but to those with depression around them like a cloak of darkness that never comes off just might understand and the following is for them only.
Depression; something that has consumed the depths of my heart and occupied my silent mind for a while now. Six years to be precise. The agony of having the desire to spill your guts to someone close torn to shreds by the knowledge that you lack a confidante. These might seem too abstract for an outsider; but to those with depression around them like a cloak of darkness that never comes off just might understand and the following is for them only.
I was never popular as a kid, I always sat alone with the
exception of classes where the teacher made it mandatory for us to sit in
pairs; I ate my lunch alone in school. I can barely remember if I had a
coherent conversation with any of my classmates in all the nine years at my
last school and for the schools before that I was too young to have any idea of
social constructs and paradigms and relationships that were necessary to be
cultivated in order for a kid to be as I put it ‘popular’. To my mind the event
that began my seclusion occurred when I was in class Vth; second
ranked in class and newly appointed Library Monitor. During the first Library
period of the session, I was asked by the Librarian if I was up to the task or
not and I replied with words smudged with tears, tears of sadness maybe, but
tears that became walls and moats and separated me from the rest of society for
a long time. Ever since then, I don’t do well in social situations and have
always believed that I am not fit to be a part of a social group, I get crammed
up inside my head, I talk to myself, I pace a lot and am a poster-example of
nerves.
But why do I think that I am depressed? Is it because of the
constant fear of losing the people closest to me; not perhaps to God or some
such forces but losing them to my inability to put my thoughts and feelings out
in the open; my constant fear of driving people away? Do I think I am depressed
because I sometimes just feel like to end things, to end the light and
surrender to the eternal darkness or to borrow a phrase ‘Pay the debt all men
Pay’?
Do I think I am depressed because deep down I know I want to be
liked by other people? That my desire to connect with them and exchange
thoughts and ideas but my life has thus far made me nothing more than a husk
that seeks fulfilment; even if by debasing or tantalizing others? I don’t know,
I say that to myself a lot; I don’t know. It just sounds about right. So I
leave this question to you. Am I depressed, or is there any other explanation? I
do hope that those who have gone through all of this and have reached this
point; would have a better idea of my mind-set than I do and that they care
enough to speak up. To quote from an Aaron Sorkin screenplay:
“So, a guy is walking down the street minding his own business when he suddenly falls into a very deep dark hole. He is looking up from the bottom at the circle of light above when he sees a doctor pass by
"Help! I am stuck in this hole!" the guy yells.
So, the doctor stops, writes him a prescription, drops it into the deep dark hole, and walks away. A little while passes when the guy sees a priest walk by above
So, the doctor stops, writes him a prescription, drops it into the deep dark hole, and walks away. A little while passes when the guy sees a priest walk by above
"Help! I am stuck in this hole!" the guy yells
So, the priest stops, writes a prayer down on a slip of paper drops in into the deep dark hole, and walks away.
A little while longer passes when a friend walks by the hole
"Help! I am stuck in this hole!" the guy yells to the friend
Without thinking twice, the friend jumps down into the deep dark hole with the guy.
"What are you doing?" the guy asks the friend. "Now we are both
stuck down here!"
"Yes," answers the friend. "But I have been in this hole before, and I know the way out."
"Yes," answers the friend. "But I have been in this hole before, and I know the way out."
About: The author doesn't care for personal recognition as long as the work is appreciated. Appreciation is not necessary as long as constructive comments are received. Cheerios mate!