What is the color of depression, is it the swirling blackness of despair? That sucks and threatens to drown you. You can’t seem to clutch at anything. Not even your own shadow. You don’t see anything. You don’t know how you feel. Everything is black.
You are desperate for solace, for comfort, for reassurance. To give up the pressure.
Or is it the clear, no-color sea of frustration that leaves you gasping for air? That makes you want to disappear. To leave all that you ever thought you had. You want to catch something but can’t seem to get it. Your anger grows at your weaknesses, at your fallibility, at your inabilities. At your personal cluelessness. You answer every question with “I don’t know” because you certainly do not know what to think anymore. What you want, what you haven’t gotten. What you are yet to get. Everything seems blurry..
Or the comforting blueness of tiredness. Drained, worn out. Your spirit, the picture of a rag doll. Your face drawn dark circles. Your bed comforts you. But you still want to disappear. No one understands. No one even knows.
The winsome smile still rests on your face. The smile that everyone loves. You flash it all around. Everyone thinks you are fine. That you’ve got it all together. They just don’t know how much interest you’ve lost in things. How you wish they’d all disappear and leave you alone…
Or is it the dizzying red of pressure. From everything around you. To be what the trend demands. At the time the trend demands it. The rush that wants to knock the wind out of your lungs. Then the absolute frustration that comes when you don’t get the things you desire and it seems everyone else is getting it. And you think of the things you lost because you wanted more and sink more. You cringe. How come you didn’t see what you had till you lost it? Now, you can’t have it again. How come, you never saw where your heart rested till you lost it?
You lost even love that could have been yours. And the more frustrating is that you may lose more before you realize what you want.
Then, you are tired. So tired of struggling to be, to do and to live. You are tired of the noise around you. Of seeing the ones who got their shit all together. Who knows what their life is looking like.
And you are sinking. Inch by inch. Till you can’t clutch unto any more grass. But the pressure in your heart doesn’t lift. It still sinks with you. You can’t even call unto God. You don’t know which name to call.
You sink more. More and more. More. More. More. More. More. More. Till there is nothing left of you. Till you are just a speck of dust. So little no one notices. Even the ones who say they love you.
More. More. More
Your heart is still heavy. You still can’t breathe well. Now, you are tired of fighting. You are letting go. Everything will happen when it will.
You’ve been strong for too long. And now you are ashamed to be weak. To be caught whimpering like a frightened baby. You had your act together. Now you can’t even get your words together. So pathetic.
You are ashamed of talking about how you feel. How do you even describe it when you can’t feel anything? Or even know how you feel. Your hands can’t touch it.
And then you want to disappear, like a speck of dust wiped off a glass surface. Never to be heard or seen again. Everybody is rushing to be heard or seen. You just want to be on your own.
Life sucks, doesn’t it? The weight is lifting now. You cry “God help me”. I’m giving up. I’m tired of myself. You don’t even tryst when He says, I got you, baby. Help me Lord. Help me.
From the pits of despair, I’m crying out.
What I fear most is coming upon me.
My desires are fading before my eyes.
My hopes are getting fainter.
I’ll sink if you don’t help me. Help me. Help me. Help me. Help me. Help me. Help me. Help me. Help me. Help me.
I want to live.