I've been using my duvet cover as a sleeping bag for at least a week now. Maybe two. I've lost sense of time. A while back I had a really rough night: I was sick and unable to fall asleep. I tossed. I turned. I tossed. I turned. I ended up kicking the sheets off my bed. All of them, even the one that covers the mattress. And I haven't had the motivation to put it back since. My sheets are still there, at the foot of the bed, but it required less energy to pull out the duvet from its cover, and use the cover as a sleeping bag.

This is my depression.

I washed my dishes. Finally. I ran out of clean ones. Due to the self sustaining eco system growing in my tupperware, I bleached them all. I spilled a few drops on my shoes. My very old, had them for years, they were dirty anyway shoes. And then I cried for 15 minutes because of the stain on my shoe. My godmother goes into open heart surgery tomorrow. I've been watching her cry for a week. I haven't shed a single tear.

This is my depression

The job application for the summer program is due in two days. It's been posted for nearly a month. I'm already in the system, and need only to write a cover letter and not a new resume. Without this job, I will not be able to afford my rent. Every day since it's been posted, I open up a document, stare at it for about an hour, then close it. I haven't written more than "To Whom it May Concern"

This is my depression

It's nearly midnight. I am tired. I want to go to sleep. But I can't. I just can't.
This is my depression.

It's coming, I can feel it.

It's not the calm before the storm, or the chaos that leads to inevitable disaster, but whatever it is, it's there. That sinking roller coaster feeling. The butterflies in your stomach that are supposed to be there but aren't feeling. It's the second shadow feeling.

It's coming, I can feel it. My depression is on its way.

It's like an old school bully. I've come to terms with our past. I talk about it without resentment. Sometimes even with pride. It's the classmate that told me I was a worthless team member, but then I came out on top and got the better grade. It's a past that I accept and have come to terms with. Doesn't mean I'm volunteering for another group project with it though. Hell, I rather not even sign up to be in the same class as it again. But even though I've graduated, and only reminisce about its existence, it's found me on social media. It keeps sending me friend requests that I keep declining. And I can feel it. Soon, it's going to break me down. Soon, I will loose the will to keep pushing it away, and accept its request back into my life.

My depression isn't sadness. I like sadness.
When the world makes me sad, it determines me to make it brighter.
My depression is apathy
And I can feel it coming.
My laugh isn't as loud. My tears aren't as salty. My anger isn't as hot. And my love isn't as free

My depression is coming. And I know why it's here.

My depression is coming. And I need to talk about it, even if no one is listening.