Depression isn't a snarling beast whose height blocks the sun. There are no glistening teeth snapping in your face. It is much more subtle. Depression is a sunset. It is gradual and often unnoticed until it is too dark to see the light anymore. It is colors fading, replaced with shades of grey. It is the glow of my skin in the twilight. There are no sharp edges, just pixels blurring into black. It would be easier if depression was a horrific beast. The moment you Ā spot the beast is the moment you knew the darkness started. Instead it is impossible to pinpoint the exact moment the shadows started growing. A beast is concrete, it is there and huge and impossible to miss. It would be as easy as taking aim and firing. The mammoth creature would take some time to kill but it would die eventually. You even have options. It could be taimed with the sweet sound of your voice, a Disney movie waiting to happen. Instead I am left in the dark, wondering when I saw the light last and waiting for a sunrise that might never come. You can't hurry the sunrise; it moves at its own pace. And so here I am, trying to remember the brilliant hues of sunrise while in the belly of darkness.
surprisegoldfish
