Sometimes I think I’ve reached the depth of depression. The very bottom. Well below feeling nothing and void. Beyond the depths of pain and anger swirled about confusion. I’ve come to see depression not as a well though because it has no bottom. Its a much more linear course where all is slowly peeled from your soul. Layer by tearful layer. Then, when wounds heal and scars become normal, it tears you apart. A slow dragging by the chain through briars. Depression is not a pit but a path you walk vacant. It never ends. It’s hopelessness is tragically only defeated by the death of self. When your really close to being free of life, it relents enough, just enough to stir hope and destroy it like an addict reminiscing a first high. After enough time depression becomes a normalized ritual of enslavement and suicide becomes freedom.
-M