In the depths of my mind, depression speaks a language of its own. Every day, it weaves its way through my thoughts, distorting my perception of self and the world around me. In this post, I use each letter ( D-E-P-R-E-S-S-I-O-N) to represent this internal dialogue. Yet, I can’t fully articulate the chaos that rages within me.
D – Darkness Descends
Scene: It’s morning. Sunlight peaks through the blinds, casting a warm golden glow on everything. Birds are chirping outside, and there’s a sense of stillness and newness in the air.
Self: (stretches, feels slightly optimistic) “Maybe today will be a good day.”
Depression: (scoffs) “Today will be the same as yesterday. Another day just going through the motions, merely existing.”
The sun disappears behind the clouds. Shadows creep across the walls until the room is entirely dark, swallowing that spark of hope.
E – Exhaustion Engulfs
Scene: The alarm rings after eight hours of sleep. Light from the bedside lamp fills the room. Blankets wrap around Self like a cozy cocoon.
Self: (yawns, mentally prepares for the day) “I slept well. Why am I still tired? I just need to get moving, and I’ll have more energy.”
Depression: (laughs mockingly) “It doesn’t matter how much you sleep. This exhaustion is more than physical. It comes from battling me, the relentless tide that keeps pulling you under.”
The blankets, once soft and inviting, now feel like a heavy weight pressing down. Limbs feel stiff like they’re submerged under an invisible force. Breathing is slow and labored, as if the air is too thick for the lungs to take in. Energy drains, and so too does the will to continue. The body becomes an empty vessel, sleepwalking through the day.
P – Pain Prevails
Scene: The park path stretches out ahead, framed by trees on either side. The rhythmic sound of Self’s footsteps blends with the soft rustling of the leaves.
Self: (breathes heavily, pushing forward) “This run should make me feel alive, help me forget everything for a while.”
Depression: (matching Self’s pace, voice dark) “You can’t outrun this pain. You can’t outrun me. I’m always right here with you.”
The path ahead seems endless. Each step seems futile against the earth’s gravity. Trees, vibrant and full of life, stand tall around her, a stark contrast to the hollow ache within. With every heartbeat, the pain deepens, spreading through her chest like an untamed fire, consuming everything in its wake.
R – Rumination Replays
Scene: Lying in bed, ready to fall asleep. The gentle hum of the air conditioner fills the silence.
Self: (closes eyes, lets out a sigh) “Finally, I can rest.”
Depression: (slithers in beside Self, voice sharp) “Rest? Don’t you remember that thing you did wrong today? And every day of your life. Let’s go over it all again, in detail.”
The hum of the air conditioner grows louder, almost taunting. Each thought feels like a replay of every mistake, an endless loop with no escape. The mind refuses to settle, turning over moments, words, regrets, until sleep feels like a distant memory.
E – Emptiness Echoes
Scene: The kitchen is quiet, the fridge door swings open, revealing shelves of food.
Self: (hesitates, stares blankly at the food in the fridge, feels conflicted) “I don’t even know if I’m hungry… but I can’t shake this gnawing feeling, like something inside of me is missing.”
Depression: (sinister, like a puppet master pulling the strings behind the scenes) “Eat everything. Eat until you feel sick. Then, tomorrow, starve yourself to make up for it. Just keep feeding the void.”
Food, what should be nourishment, becomes a battleground. Each bite feels like a surrender, each restriction a powerful weapon to regain control. The war rages on, with no true victory in sight. In this endless fight, Self is the only casualty, doomed to self-destruct over and over again.
S – Shame Suffocates
Scene: The gym mirror reflects Self’s form as she focuses on each rep. Behind her is the treadmill.
Self: (wipes sweat, stares at her tired reflection) “I’ve worked hard. Maybe I can just do weights and skip the treadmill today. My body could use the rest.”
Depression: (snarls, tone harsh and critical) “You haven’t earned the right to relax yet. You still have calories to burn. You’re not done until I say you’re done.”
The reflection in the mirror magnifies every imperfection, making her feel “fat” and “disgusting.” The treadmill is the remedy, the way to undo the “damage” caused by eating. Resting would mean succumbing to failure.
S – Stagnation Stays
Scene: The clock ticks steadily. Each second, each minute, every hour is an opportunity for change.
Self: (sits motionless, watches clock, trying to push past indecision) “What if I mix things up today? Maybe I could skip the usual routine and try something new, something different.”
Depression: (icy tone) “No. If you stray from what you’ve planned, everything will fall apart. Stick to what’s safe, what you know. If you let go, you’ll lose control.”
The ticking becomes almost hypnotic, locking the mind into a trance-like state. Every action, from eating to exercising, follows the same formula, like a robot’s mechanical programming. Deviate, and the machine malfunctions.
I – Isolation Intensifies
Scene: It’s Friday. The clock strikes five. Another workweek complete. A sense of freedom.
Self: (scrolls through her phone, looks at places nearby) “It’s the end of the week. I could do something fun tomorrow, like go to that coffee shop or enjoy brunch out.”
Depression: (hisses, words dripping with mockery) “Go out? You’ll just be a lonely face in the crowd. Watching everyone around you with their friends, while you sit there all alone and invisible. Now and forever. Don’t subject yourself to that humiliation.”
Possibility transforms into fear. The desire to go out is overshadowed by the comfort of home, now a self-imposed prison. The walls of solitude close in, with only restless thoughts as companions.
O – Overwhelm Occludes
Scene: A new workday begins. The calendar is open. Next to it is a neatly organized to-do list.
Self: (takes a deep breath, hands tremble from anxiety) “If I just focus, I can get this done. It’s just a matter of tackling one task at a time.”
Depression: (voice cold and calculating, cutting through resolve) “Focus? You’ll just end up paralyzed by everything you have to do and get nowhere.”
The calendar stretches out like a vast, uncharted territory, waiting to be explored. Tasks pile up like boulders, blocking the path to productivity and making even the smallest step feel impossible.
N – Numbness Negates
Scene: At a desk, the glow of the computer screen illuminates a blank blog page, the cursor blinking steadily.
Self: (hands hover over the keyboard, fingers ready to type, mind searching) “I have so much to say. Just need to gather my thoughts and write something. Anything.”
Depression: (leaning in close, voice a low growl) “What’s the point? Writing, creating… none of it matters anymore. Just another obligation, another burden to carry.”
The cursor blinks faster, each flash a mocking reminder of the words that won’t come. The blank page stares back, mirroring wasted potential. Vibrant ideas that once flowed freely now extinguished by apathy.
Hope Whispers
Depression’s voices are loud, sometimes deafening. But they aren’t all there is. While each letter captures a part of depression, it doesn’t tell the full story. There’s another letter, H, for Hope — a voice that may seem faint but is always present, waiting to be heard.
