The Walls of Depression

The walls of my home protect me. There’s no need to act within the safety of these walls. I don’t need to be happy, be productive, be okay. I can let loose the apathy, the devastation, the sadness, the tears. I can let loose the rage at myself, the feelings of unworthiness and isolation. All the things I have to hide away during the day, they’re allowed within these four walls.

There’s the walls between me and you. I tell myself the wall is to protect you. So you don’t have to deal with this. But that wall is for me too. It’s to keep me from being vulnerable in front of you. To keep me from dealing with the rejection I’ve experienced too many times. The wall is there so that I can keep myself hidden, the way I feel safest. Sometimes I wonder what this wall looks like to you. But the fear of losing you by letting you in overcomes my curiosity.

Then there’s the wall between me and action. The base of the wall is littered with half-finished projects, chores, and conversations. This wall is covered with the words of texts I’ve started, but not been able to send. But those words are buried underneath the mountains of “I’m sorry”s that I’ve sent over the days, months, and years. The “sorry” that really meant “I can’t do this and I’m ashamed”. The “sorry” that tried to convey my disappointment in myself for not being and doing better, for not being more alive. The “sorry” that was the only thing I could find to say.

Depression is a life of walls. It’s sitting in the middle of the maze you’ve created to protect yourself, to keep yourself hidden inside even more than to keep others away. It’s walls built in order to section off the parts of yourself you don’t want others to see and the parts you’re not willing to deal with yourself. It’s walls made of coping skills that you don’t know how to dismantle. It’s the walls the keep you propped up when all you want is to sink down to the floor and give up.

But within those walls, there lives a flicker of hope. Hope that someone will notice. Hope that someone will come. Hope that someday, someone will sit next to you within those walls. Hope that they’ll stick with you as you go down the twists and turns, hitting dead ends and having to start over, until you’re able to walk out of the maze that has governed your life for so long.

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