Dear Diary
Info
This is a piece of fiction.
Art work by Sara.
Poem
I sit alone in my locked room
trying to adapt this gloom
the tears rolling out of my eyes
just as the blood flowing out my wrist
one hand holds the cigarette while the other holds beer
the sad heart of mine doesn’t let me see the picture clear
This pain, this sadness, it is unbearable
I tell myself picking another bottle from table
I sit in the corner pondering what to do
how to get better to whom should I go
Staring at ceiling
thinking about my feeling
I need someone to tell it will be alright
to tell things will again be great
to tell it’s not a big deal
to cheer me up and complete my meal
I miss the old me
the one when I was happy
the one when Malibu was just a place
and I didn’t need alcohol to maintain my grace
the one when I could cheer without a beer
the one when stag was just a type of deer
the one when trip getting canceled was the worst heartbreak
the one when I acted being high after drinking milk shake
I sit alone in my locked room
trying to adapt this gloom
the tears rolling out of my eyes
just as the blood flowing out my wrist
trying to adapt this gloom
the tears rolling out of my eyes
just as the blood flowing out my wrist
one hand holds the cigarette while the other holds beer
the sad heart of mine doesn’t let me see the picture clear
This pain, this sadness, it is unbearable
I tell myself picking another bottle from table
the sad heart of mine doesn’t let me see the picture clear
This pain, this sadness, it is unbearable
I tell myself picking another bottle from table
I sit in the corner pondering what to do
how to get better to whom should I go
Staring at ceiling
thinking about my feeling
how to get better to whom should I go
Staring at ceiling
thinking about my feeling
I need someone to tell it will be alright
to tell things will again be great
to tell it’s not a big deal
to cheer me up and complete my meal
to tell things will again be great
to tell it’s not a big deal
to cheer me up and complete my meal
I miss the old me
the one when I was happy
the one when Malibu was just a place
and I didn’t need alcohol to maintain my grace
the one when I was happy
the one when Malibu was just a place
and I didn’t need alcohol to maintain my grace
the one when I could cheer without a beer
the one when stag was just a type of deer
the one when trip getting canceled was the worst heartbreak
the one when I acted being high after drinking milk shake
the one when stag was just a type of deer
the one when trip getting canceled was the worst heartbreak
the one when I acted being high after drinking milk shake
-Surreal
Dear Diary
It’s been 10 months into depression. These 10 months were the worst 10 months of my whole life. The worst thing is that these 10 months felt like 10 years. Though my depression phase has gone I still get goosebumps when I think about it. After experiencing depression I can say that it is totally not cool as youngsters think. Those days were nightmares come true. No no, they were worse than nightmares.
This depression is kind of like being high. Not the high when you get all happy and start partying but the high when you become numb and sad. When I was depressed it felt like I am in a black and white movie. All the colors seemed to fade away. It felt like someone had reduced the brightness because everything started to feel gloomy. My daily routine was screwed up. I was sleeping at 4 am and waking up at 6 am, And even then I was not able to sleep during the day. I didn’t feel hungry and because of this, I had to come up with new excuses to tell Maa why I wasn’t eating food. I started to feel number, I was hearing instead of listening. I wasn’t able to make out what others were saying. I started hanging out less and staying at home at more. I wanted to stay alone but I didn’t stay just by myself. I wanted to tell someone about my condition. I would randomly have panic attacks. And I never want those panics attacks again.
I started smoking and drinking. At first, I wasn’t able to smoke properly, the smoke was making me choke and it made my mouth dry. But the excitement of trying something which I wasn’t allowed to do mixed with the sadness made me do it. And then it didn’t take me long to become a chain-smoker. The number of cigarettes I smoked was increasing day by day. I didn’t even like the taste of alcohol at first. It was so bitter, I even puked the first time I drank it but once it hit my head and I started feeling high I started to like alcohol. It felt like I found what I was missing in my whole life. I liked being high so I tried to stay high as much as possible. Cigarette became my medicine, once in the morning after waking up, thrice during the day and once in the evening. Most of my money got spent on buying cigarettes and liquor. I was once almost caught when I came home and Maa smelled cigarette on my breath but I was able to handle the situation.
I was having suicidal tendencies and had already started self-harming. I had to wear full sleeved clothes to hide the cuts I made using blades. My left hand looks like a bar-code. It starts from the elbow and ends just an inch above the wrist. I also attempted suicide but I couldn’t do it.
The saddest thing is I couldn’t even tell my parents about it. I really hate it that we are brought up in such a way that we can’t share these things with our parents. I was so scared to tell because I was scared about how they would react. This led me into over thinking and I didn’t tell them and I still regret it. I think that parents and children should be able to talk about such serious issues. By talking I don’t just mean that you tell them something and they give you advice but sometimes you just go and tell them how badly you are screwed up and they would just hug you and let you cry in their arms until your eyes dry out or you fall asleep. One of my greatest fear is that one day my child would be crying himself to sleep in the next room and I won’t even know. Well, I am gonna tell my parents in a few days. I don’t know how they would react but what’s the worst that could happen.
3 months before, I thought enough is enough and I want to get out of this mess. So, I thought I should go and seek help of a psychologist. So, I took an appointment with a psychologist. When I was going there, I met an old friend of mine and in between the talk, he casually asked me where I was going. I told him that I was going to a psychologist. I can still hear what he said. It is one of the dumbest things I have ever heard. He asked if I was mentally ill or something. I didn’t say anything to him and just said bye and went away. I kept thinking about it, why on the Earth would going to a psychologist means that you are mentally ill. You don’t have to be ill to go and see a psychologist. People are retarded, they don’t even know the difference between psychologist and psychiatrist. So, I don’t really pay attention to what people think now. Let them think whatever the hell they want to think.
Those days are gone now though. I am still trying hard to quit smoking and drinking. I am sober from the last 43 days. I now regret starting these bad habits. They look cool but the truth is they only look cool and it is not cool. Now, when I am trying to quit them I think why did I even start it in the first place.
Now when I see kids posting sad quotes on their stories and act like they are depressed, I just hope they don’t really go through depression because they won’t be able to handle it. It is too much from them. They won’t be able to bear it. Mostly, they do it to seek attention but this is a very bad way of seeking attention.
I am feeling really great good relieved after talking about it with you. See you soon my dear Diary.
Yours truly
Deb
This depression is kind of like being high. Not the high when you get all happy and start partying but the high when you become numb and sad. When I was depressed it felt like I am in a black and white movie. All the colors seemed to fade away. It felt like someone had reduced the brightness because everything started to feel gloomy. My daily routine was screwed up. I was sleeping at 4 am and waking up at 6 am, And even then I was not able to sleep during the day. I didn’t feel hungry and because of this, I had to come up with new excuses to tell Maa why I wasn’t eating food. I started to feel number, I was hearing instead of listening. I wasn’t able to make out what others were saying. I started hanging out less and staying at home at more. I wanted to stay alone but I didn’t stay just by myself. I wanted to tell someone about my condition. I would randomly have panic attacks. And I never want those panics attacks again.
I started smoking and drinking. At first, I wasn’t able to smoke properly, the smoke was making me choke and it made my mouth dry. But the excitement of trying something which I wasn’t allowed to do mixed with the sadness made me do it. And then it didn’t take me long to become a chain-smoker. The number of cigarettes I smoked was increasing day by day. I didn’t even like the taste of alcohol at first. It was so bitter, I even puked the first time I drank it but once it hit my head and I started feeling high I started to like alcohol. It felt like I found what I was missing in my whole life. I liked being high so I tried to stay high as much as possible. Cigarette became my medicine, once in the morning after waking up, thrice during the day and once in the evening. Most of my money got spent on buying cigarettes and liquor. I was once almost caught when I came home and Maa smelled cigarette on my breath but I was able to handle the situation.
I was having suicidal tendencies and had already started self-harming. I had to wear full sleeved clothes to hide the cuts I made using blades. My left hand looks like a bar-code. It starts from the elbow and ends just an inch above the wrist. I also attempted suicide but I couldn’t do it.
The saddest thing is I couldn’t even tell my parents about it. I really hate it that we are brought up in such a way that we can’t share these things with our parents. I was so scared to tell because I was scared about how they would react. This led me into over thinking and I didn’t tell them and I still regret it. I think that parents and children should be able to talk about such serious issues. By talking I don’t just mean that you tell them something and they give you advice but sometimes you just go and tell them how badly you are screwed up and they would just hug you and let you cry in their arms until your eyes dry out or you fall asleep. One of my greatest fear is that one day my child would be crying himself to sleep in the next room and I won’t even know. Well, I am gonna tell my parents in a few days. I don’t know how they would react but what’s the worst that could happen.
3 months before, I thought enough is enough and I want to get out of this mess. So, I thought I should go and seek help of a psychologist. So, I took an appointment with a psychologist. When I was going there, I met an old friend of mine and in between the talk, he casually asked me where I was going. I told him that I was going to a psychologist. I can still hear what he said. It is one of the dumbest things I have ever heard. He asked if I was mentally ill or something. I didn’t say anything to him and just said bye and went away. I kept thinking about it, why on the Earth would going to a psychologist means that you are mentally ill. You don’t have to be ill to go and see a psychologist. People are retarded, they don’t even know the difference between psychologist and psychiatrist. So, I don’t really pay attention to what people think now. Let them think whatever the hell they want to think.
Those days are gone now though. I am still trying hard to quit smoking and drinking. I am sober from the last 43 days. I now regret starting these bad habits. They look cool but the truth is they only look cool and it is not cool. Now, when I am trying to quit them I think why did I even start it in the first place.
Now when I see kids posting sad quotes on their stories and act like they are depressed, I just hope they don’t really go through depression because they won’t be able to handle it. It is too much from them. They won’t be able to bear it. Mostly, they do it to seek attention but this is a very bad way of seeking attention.
I am feeling really
Yours truly
Deb
Depression
It is not cool. If you are depressed or having suicidal thoughts. Seek help. Hang out with friends, talk to someone about it and talk to your parents about it. Parent’s decision maybe wrong but their intent is never wrong. They always want the best for you. They maybe be angry at first but they will always be with you.
It is perfectly alright to visit a psychologist(even if you are not depressed), society is weird, don’t worry what they think.
Remember, Suicide is never an option.
It is perfectly alright to visit a psychologist(even if you are not depressed), society is weird, don’t worry what they think.
Remember, Suicide is never an option.
Wonderful 😊
ReplyDeleteWaiting for new stuff
🤔when🧐?
Soon, I am working on new stuff.
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDelete