The thing about depression is that sometimes it hits you without warning. Like an instant tornado to a remote island or a like a shot, a sudden shot in the dark. One moment you are walking joyfully down a beautiful raised sidewalk, the next you feel your heart crush like it’s been squeezed beneath vices. Even in the screaming daylight, your whole world goes pitch black. That terrifying part of your mind that often comes alive at such instances slowly wraps around your vulnerable brain and you can literary feel its icy tentacles slip into place and take control. Everything around feels so empty and your thoughts grow so tempting. When you crawl into that corner and suddenly your arms are not big enough. They are not long enough, and even sadder, they sure as hell are not strong enough to hold you from falling apart. You squeeze so tight and dig so deep your nails threaten to break and your skin almost gives in. And you want to rip out that hollow ache that sits somewhere in the pits of your chest and burns with a cold cold flame. At the mercy of your own thoughts that begrudgingly threaten to consume you, escape is far more than just a distant thought.
But the pain. The other kind of pain. That which you can control. The pain that takes all other pain away. The pain that scars you on the outside. But oh, what a tiny price to pay for those glorious three seconds of relief. When pain stops being beautiful and only tears you apart, the least you can worry about is an ignorant cunt who only cares to see how ugly you are
For obvious reason