depression & holidays

Depression strikes at the strangest times. Like on Easter holidays when you're with your family and have four days of relaxing and fun together. It's not even that you should be happy it's that you are happy, except.... your depression starts to seep into your very being as if to serve as a warning. For happiness is the enemy.

You're filled with self-doubt and self-loathing. You ache from forced smiles. Your body shuts down. Your throat hurts. You want to die. Except you don't. Not really. You're actually pretty fucking happy! But your head is ruining it. It wants you to sink into the darkness. You're tired now. You don't even fight it. You just let it do its thing. There's no point even trying when your head is like this. Forcing happiness is worse. Pretending you're not dead inside is even more painful than actually being dead inside so you leave it.

You think of the what ifs? The anxiety starts to seep in. You picture death on walks to school. Car accidents and dead animals. Every imaginable catastrophe happens all at once and, of course, it all happens to you because you're a worthless pile of shit and you deserve all the bad in the entire world. Nobody else. Just you.

You succumb to bed and blankets. Watch feel-good movies in the hopes that they'll lift your spirits but they don't. They can't. So you wait. And you keep waiting and one day you'll feel better. One day...

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be nice. unless you can be cake and then always be cake.