Color Blind.

Amongst the greys.

13,448 notes

Depression is humiliating. It turns intelligent, kind people into zombies who can’t wash a dish or change their socks. It affects the ability to think clearly, to feel anything, to ascribe value to your children, your lifelong passions, your relative good fortune. It scoops out your normal healthy ability to cope with bad days and bad news, and replaces it with an unrecognizable sludge that finds no pleasure, no delight, no point in anything outside of bed. You alienate your friends because you can’t comport yourself socially, you risk your job because you can’t concentrate, you live in moderate squalor because you have no energy to stand up, let alone take out the garbage. You become pathetic and you know it. And you have no capacity to stop the downward plunge. You have no perspective, no emotional reserves, no faith that it will get better. So you feel guilty and ashamed of your inability to deal with life like a regular human, which exacerbates the depression and the isolation.
Depression is humiliating.
If you’ve never been depressed, thank your lucky stars and back off the folks who take a pill so they can make eye contact with the grocery store cashier. No one on earth would choose the nightmare of depression over an averagely turbulent normal life.
It’s not an incapacity to cope with day to day living in the modern world. It’s an incapacity to function. At all. If you and your loved ones have been spared, every blessing to you. If depression has taken root in you or your loved ones, every blessing to you, too.
Depression is humiliating.
No one chooses it. No one deserves it. It runs in families, it ruins families. You cannot imagine what it takes to feign normalcy, to show up to work, to make a dentist appointment, to pay bills, to walk your dog, to return library books on time, to keep enough toilet paper on hand, when you are exerting most of your capacity on trying not to kill yourself. Depression is real. Just because you’ve never had it doesn’t make it imaginary. Compassion is also real. And a depressed person may cling desperately to it until they are out of the woods and they may remember your compassion for the rest of their lives as a force greater than their depression. Have a heart. Judge not lest ye be judged.
Pearl (via psych-facts)

(via ashstenton)

22 notes

The reality is
Almost no one cares
That you’re lying cold
In a ditch somewhere.
You could be ripped apart
From the inside out
And your friends would pass by
Your loudest screams & shouts.
When shackles surround you
And you’re a slave to the rain
Not one soul will soothe
The boiling blood in your veins.
And when Autumn comes
And you’ve fallen in the leaves
They’ll simply neglect you
Like you’re plagued with disease.
In the dead of Winter,
When you’re blue from the snow,
You’ll be shielded by ice
Wherever you go.
When you’re drowning in Spring,
Or the hot Summer sun,
And realize that there
Is no place to run,
I hear your shouts
And your curses and cries
I’ll feed you your truths
In this sphere full of lies.
This is for those
Who have covered their scars
And find their only home
Out under the stars.

Know that you’re not alone,
Wherever you are.

"You’re Not Alone, Wherever You Are."
— M.B. (via the-dreamer-deferred)