When Depression Is the Loudest Voice in Your Life

I am alone, but I am never alone.

There is always someone with me, someone others may not see or know, or even quite understand for that matter. He is always present: in the dark shadows of the bedroom during the most suffocating hours of the night, sitting menacingly still in the backseat of the car on the way to work, even hiding in the crevices in the ceiling and the empty, gray lit rooms at the office building.

I am alone, but I am never alone.

As others stroll by and peer their eyes in my direction, sitting solo at a wood-planked coffee table, they may say I am happily quaint being by myself, but the true picture is much more bleak. Even though I may look satisfyingly alone, the solemn fact is I am actually sitting at a table with a monster.

A monster I’ve known for a very, very long time. His name is Depression, Sadness, Anxiety, Inadequacy. . . Fear.

He is not a friend, companion or pal, but rather a ruthless acquaintance who will not leave me alone. His desire for my life is nothing but destruction, nothing but to see my mind constantly plagued by negative emotion. There is no running away from him. Others may not see him, but his presence is constant.

His words are poison.

You are worthless.

You are just the product of your failure.

No one can love you where you’re at.

Stop trying, kid. It’s not working.

Just give up.

His name is Depression, and right now he’s the loudest voice in my life, suffocating any seed of truth that may begin to sprout. He talks me into my seclusion, my abandonment of any close friends and all the self-medication that so easily becomes my vice. He talks me into not talking to you, not sharing with you, not even wanting to make eye contact with you. And I’m sorry.

I am alone, but I am never alone.

I just hope you know, and you’ll stay patient with me and help me push away the monster at the table.

Thank you.

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