What Depression feels like.
9:00 AM- Time to get dressed and step into the conundrum of people, the chaos of the world and SMILE. I did. Put on the mask, the mask that had a stench of tears creeping and knew how it felt being there. The mask, however, was my shield, a protection from all people and an ounce of belief that I wouldn't have to wear it someday. There I was on the road, walking with benumbed legs, hands as cold as ice and a dead, heavy soul.
11:00 AM- Inside that huge room full of people. Speakers blaring with the professor's voice trying to get inside students' heads. Nothing goes into mine. All I can hear is, " you're a loser, you can't get past this subject ever, you know you stink of rotting meat, yes, you're just a lump of meat!". I break into thousand more pieces but on the outside, I am happy, trying to understand and writing each thing the professor wants us to.
1:00 PM- Lunch on the table, friends seated around, laughing and eating. The food tastes sour and bitter to me and the only things I can see on my plate are colours, White, yellow, orange, blue, black..... No, Stop it. The spoon hardly moves twice and I dump the rest away. The water I drink smells foul, chokes me as if telling me, "you're not worth living." "Hey, let's go. We have a class at 2:00."
"Yeah! Coming.", is all that I manage to say.
3:00 PM- The road on the way back heated with anger and probably the summer. There's no trace of wind, it's stagnated, humid air and bright dull weather make it unbearable to breathe. I gasp for air as I reach my room, tired and wanting to sleep. But sleep is never that easy being a half insomniac. I try removing my mask off. "knock, knock", putting the mask back on hurriedly, I open the door. It's a friend. She's come to crib about how her day was pathetic. "Oh! poor soul", I console. Hah! I am the one consoling of all people. It felt like something that strangles and keeps tugging harder in the gut, but I smile and say, "It'll be alright." I know it never is.
5:00 PM- Everyone's enjoying their snacks, a light zephyr hung about in the air, the skies turned pale crimson and there's chitter-chatter everywhere. The noises in my head don't stop, even when I am trying to talk to someone. I sit on the benches reading a book, the mask seems to dissolve under the skin with the light breeze, it doesn't actually, you know. Books and music are just an escape from reality. As the dusk grows, the lights slowly dim out and I am forced to close the book. Snap! the mask sits tight on the face, trying not to fall off.
7:00 PM- On the desk, trying to work trying to keep all the frustration at bay, I scream on the inside, my mask falls off. Every bruise, every scar is wide open and the air makes it burn to the bone. The salt from the tears and the blood oozing from the bruises trickle down and make me want to puke. I don't see myself in the mirror. All I see is a charred soul, burnt so bad that it had lost its identity long ago. I silently continue with my work, of course, I had deadlines to meet.
9:00 PM- Dinner time. The same tale just that I preferred eating alone. Food does not go down my throat, trying is futile, so, I leave. I try to walk the streets hands folded inside the pocket but the sounds of people laughing and jeering at me grows inside my head and I realise that I had forgotten to put my mask back. I rush back to my room, sink in and scream my heart out. No one's there inside, so, none can hear. Relief.
11:00 PM- Bloody Insomnia doesn't let me sleep. I lay on my bed with my head on the pillow that had swollen with all the sorrow fed into it and had the malodor of rancid tears. Let me sleep, I beg. The devil says, "your soul is dead, you are already fast asleep".
11:00 to 4:00 AM- I fight and get wounded all over, staring transfixed into void and infinity and then the next day I wake up, in a pool of my own blood and on it goes.
You'll never know if the mask is ever taken off because I am too scared to be vulnerable out there.
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