Depression. It's a silent killer.

[snexxer]

As a long time sufferer of depression and anxiety, with a sprinkling of PTSD, Im happy to see that this thread is a safe place for people to talk and support one another.

I've found when my depression gets worse, I feel, Invisible or Ignored.

I've always noticed, I'm the guy most people like, but not enough to be included in things. Almost like ive been friendzoned by the whole world

However I find I end up writing poetry (of a sort), it seems to occupy my mind enough to survive the day, with the help of the meds.

I thought id share my latest.

It isn’t that the room is empty.
It’s that you feel edited out of it.

Voices pass through you
like radio signals skipping a station,
laughter bends around you
as if you’re made of glass
or something even less solid.

You sit among people
like a ghost who hasn’t earned a haunting,
watching hands touch, eyes meet,
names spoken aloud
that never quite shape themselves into yours.

Depression is a quiet magician.
It doesn’t make you disappear
it just convinces you
that everyone agreed you already had.

So you shrink.
You dim.
You fold yourself into smaller and smaller versions
until even your own reflection hesitates,
like it’s not sure you’re still there.

And the cruelest part
is how believable it feels

this story
that you are background noise,
a forgotten extra
in a life that keeps moving without you.

But somewhere, stubborn and flickering,
there’s a truth that refuses to vanish:

Invisible things still exist.
Air. Gravity. Pulse.

You are here.
Even if the world hasn’t said your name loudly enough yet.​

 

[Wetkitty09]

My day started then stopped and has started again. I feel so tired all the time lately and I’m having trouble powering through it.
I hope your day is going smoothly.
Be safe out there.

 

[forgotmyantidepressants]

As a long time sufferer of depression and anxiety, with a sprinkling of PTSD, Im happy to see that this thread is a safe place for people to talk and support one another.

I've found when my depression gets worse, I feel, Invisible or Ignored.

I've always noticed, I'm the guy most people like, but not enough to be included in things. Almost like ive been friendzoned by the whole world

However I find I end up writing poetry (of a sort), it seems to occupy my mind enough to survive the day, with the help of the meds.

I thought id share my latest.

It isn’t that the room is empty.
It’s that you feel edited out of it.

Voices pass through you
like radio signals skipping a station,
laughter bends around you
as if you’re made of glass
or something even less solid.

You sit among people
like a ghost who hasn’t earned a haunting,
watching hands touch, eyes meet,
names spoken aloud
that never quite shape themselves into yours.

Depression is a quiet magician.
It doesn’t make you disappear
it just convinces you
that everyone agreed you already had.

So you shrink.
You dim.
You fold yourself into smaller and smaller versions
until even your own reflection hesitates,
like it’s not sure you’re still there.

And the cruelest part
is how believable it feels

this story
that you are background noise,
a forgotten extra
in a life that keeps moving without you.

But somewhere, stubborn and flickering,
there’s a truth that refuses to vanish:

Invisible things still exist.
Air. Gravity. Pulse.

You are here.
Even if the world hasn’t said your name loudly enough yet.​

Lovely poem. Thank you.

 

[forgotmyantidepressants]

Two of my co-workers got fired for taking a big jar of pennies from a job site...

I liked both of them and thought they were smarter than that. Needless to say, it's been a crazy day. Now I have to leave all these thoughts and emotions behind so I can go home.