Reading Time: 2 minutes
“I’m gonna take myself a piece of sunshine,
And paint it all over my sky.
Be no rain. Be no rain.”
–Gil Scott Heron
Written By: Travis Knight
Illustration & Photo: Stephen Perdue
It’s as if the devil walked into my heart and took a 3-ton dump on the floor—chuckling all the while until the little shit-bag found enough joy to finally scamper away. But we all know that’s silly.
And so is Depression.
I am not a martyr, a symbol of strength who will die for his fellow beings—who will rid them of some heavy burden. Nonetheless, my sad state has convinced me otherwise. That dastardly, never-ending,
dank cave of Depression.
There is no victim here. Just a sad and empty place that wallows in malicious winds. So many ask how, when they had so much? How could they trip so easily?
So easily, into the dark depths of Depression?
It takes your self-esteem, your ambitions, smiles, sadness, love, thoughts, sanity, brothers, mothers, sisters, fathers, friends, and violently hurls them from the nearest overpass.
That is Depression.
It strips you of your money, your marriage, your home, your dignity—everything—and convinces you that life is a bad joke; a climax that never ceases inclination. Life is good, but it is not life that makes you depressed.
It’s Depression.
It has never changed. It’s been as unreasonable and ruthless as always. Without skipping a second, it keeps right alongside us, matching our rising numbers with rambunctious rapidity. Such things are no accident. It’s global warfare from our Mother; She is locked and stocked,
with eternal clips of Depression.
The last breath will mark my last dance with this persistent pest. Now, I can only hope that it sticks to the body, that it ends under blue skies and lingering ivory pillows. But my stripped soul believes otherwise. It would be no surprise that if thereafter, too, exists,
my unwelcome friend, Depression.
So, now I know it’s not a demon damaging my mind—my soul—my body—my loved ones. No, it’s something that even demons fear.
It’s Depression.