In the beginning it’s all good. You maybe even start romanticizing it. You think it’ll pass and that it adds a little character and edginess to your striving artist persona. You’re going through something so personal, something so real, something that will forever change you and be a part of you. Whether you want to accept it or not. Whether you realize it or not, it takes over your life.
You start dodging people’s phone calls at first. There go some friends. You smart going on “social media breaks” for a while. Bam. There fo some more friends even some random ones which you didn’t even care about to begin with. You commit your biggest mistake ever. Your whole world turns upside down and shit is starting to get really bad. You manage to put on a mask and pretend in order to meet a few women and you fall in love once or twice. It gives you some hope that maybe you’re soon about to leave this previous warm love which you hate but feel as if it’s the only thing that truly understands you but SURPRISE! You’re depression has just finished having its morning coffee and is about to start going to crunch time. You go through days, even weeks of not leaving your bed. Start lying to everyone and practically destroy relationship you ever had and besides your parents and like 2 friends, you are all alone.
And I do mean truly alone.
On one hand, you have your parents right? Sure they love you and all of those nice things but this is America. You are a millennial. You are entitled, although you always make very good arguments as into why you’re not. You want more than their love. You want them to understand. But how could they? They just assumed you were being lazy. Coming from practically a third world country where depression gets swept under the rug, people tend to go on about their days because they have real problems like making sure they eat for the day or staying warm. Depression is a western thing and made up to most people in your motherland.
Then you have your friends. Some understand better then others and for that, you are beyond grateful. It’s probably the only reason you still hold on to hope. Your friends have their own problems though. They have their own lives. As Voltaire reminded us, people have their own gardens they need to tend to.
Three years pass by. You fucked up over and over. You’re broke. You feel like you “wasted” so much time. You dropped out of college two times and because you didn’t officially drop out but just stopped showing up, you fucked up your gpa. You managed to build some $8K in debt along the way. You have a job which you fucking hate and every hour that you work it slowly kills the soul a little. Not enough to make you fully give up, but enough for you to slightly notice every month or so. But you can’t quit. You need this job. This job pays your bills. You have bills now. You’re now an adult. Whether you like to admit it or not, you have grown up. By some strange miracle, you somehow end up “healing” you wounds, most which were self inflected if were being quite honest, with the help of a lot of trial and error, bullshit self-help books and articles googling “how to stop being depressed”.
You slowly start becoming a functioning adult. Your “episodes” become rarer as time passes. You don’t spend nearly as much time in bed as you used to. You even quit smoking cigarettes, occasionally jog, smart reading more and even go back to school. Here is where it gets really interesting.
You have changed. You are a completely new person. You are have been reborn. You have danced with the devil. You have befriended darkness and come to accept that no matter what, it will always be a part of you. It might not always consume you how it once did, but it will always be there, lingering around, making sure you’re never alone.
But you are.
You’re an adult who only speaks with 2 friends and your parents. All of your time is spent on working, going to school because no one will hire you in the industry you desire without a college degree or even give you an internship for that matter. You are grateful that you’re not where you once where. You put on this brave face and even quote some inspirational and motivating quote when speaking to those 4 people in your life or strangers at a bar.
But you are alone.
Sure, you justify it all in your head because you are chasing your wildest dreams you had before you went through your depression and you’re working on goals that most of your peers and old friends couldn’t even fathom.
But you are alone.
You play with the idea of sometimes faking it and pretending to be into things that the masses are into: social media, drinking every weekend, whatever new Netflix show is on, whatever new meme is trending and you may even pull it off for a week or two but you know yourself. You spent three years with yourself and you know you don’t belong. You know that one day this pain and these sacrifices will all be worth it. You know even if you don’t come close to achieving most of your goals, you’ll at least be more content and doing better than most people, if not all that you ever met because you are constantly improving and bettering yourself. You will be able to say that you truly tried. That’s something most people wish they can say on their deathbeds. You know this because you climbed over small mountains the last few months and you just started.
But you are alone.
That famous and cliche quote: “It’s lonely at the top” is always in the back of your head. You are no where near at the top, barely even climbed a few stairs. All that you think about besides maintaining a good gpa and budgeting your money to make sure you pay your bills, is:
“Have others been through this too? Have others felt this lonely too? Have others climbed from their casket and go on to achieving true greatness?”
You wonder. You come to the conclusion that with as many people living, and as many people that have lived, chances are a lot of people have gone through this. Maybe not a lot per say, but enough to comfort you a little. You realize that others have had to probably go through much worse. But again, this is America, you are entitled so fuck them. You mental alarm goes off once more.
You are alone.
No one handed you a instructions on how to do this and time is against you. People you have known don’t know you any more. They don’t know anything about you. You have been forgotten.
You are alone.
You still believe it will all work out in the end because you defeated almost all of your devils. This should be a walk in the park for you compared to the last three years. You have faith. Faith begins where reality and common sense end and you know this might end up killing you down the road, but it it only the only thing that’s keeping you alive at the moment. Your alarm goes off. It’s 5AM. It’s time to get up from your bed to begin your day despite the fact that you didn’t sleep.
You are still alone but it’s time to go to work.
