The "You Are Not Alone" Through Depression's Eyes

Physically, no, I am not alone. I am surrounded by a basic existence, and a brainwashed, single minded society, that is full of blind, and distracted beings, who will pass me by, and never notice the deep, loud thoughts that occupy my mind. Outwardly, silent. But internally, begging for a salvation. Chained to a wall in a cold, merciless room, full of a relentless, taunting silence. With nothing but my own thoughts to keep me company. Echoing so loudly, that the only thing that I can feel now is the slow, and painful deterioration of the only will that you have left. I will, inevitably, be the cause of my own demise. The very thoughts that overflow like poison filled waterfalls of night, that cast shadows across the vast, lonely valleys of my mind. Where no one could ever possibly hear my desperate cries for help. Well because, let's face it, they wouldn't really listen any how. I am trapped in a dimension that only I exist in. No one to hear me. No one to count on. No one to come and save me. And as it seems now, no way out. So, hope? Well, it simply just does not exist here. It could not survive this dense, unforgiving atmosphere. An atmosphere that lacks oxygen, and contains a gravity so heavy that I am forcibly paralyzed. Unable to breathe. Unable to move. And unable to live. Frozen in time. Never moving forward. Any survival at all seems nearly impossible. So existence, well, do I even exist? How could I be certain? Is existing in this world really even possible? If something as simple as hope cannot survive here, how ever could I? I cry and I scream inside for someone to care, just someone to notice my pain. Someone to save me from this black hole that has swallowed me whole. Imbedded its claws so deep within me, that it has slowly become a part of who I am now. It is in me. In the biological make up of who I am. Now, it is a matter of saving me from myself. But my cries, they go unheard, and my calls, unanswered. In an outward appearance, I am merely that of a fictional smile, that may constantly fool everyone, only due to a neglectful will and a blind eye. Like they don't already know that I am dying. So yes, i suppose you are accurate when you say that I am not alone, if you mean Physically, of course. But how could I blame you for thinking in such naïve, and optimistic ways? How could i expect you to know any better? This dimension that I live in, you do not exist. You know nothing of this succubus of a world that I am being held captive in. You cannot recognize that, internally, I am nothing more than that of a shadow in a dark room. Invisible, empty, and alone.

12/4/15

(Revised 12/4/17)