Waste Of Space

22|Lost. Alone. Tired. Suicidal.

[preggopushes]

Speedbird 675

Summary: Devin, an airline pilot, is surprised to meet the captain for the next leg of his trip.

WARNING: NSFW, there will be voyeurism, pregnancy, and childbirth

**Originally posted on DeviantArt, but I thought some people on Tumblr might enjoy it also**

Part 1

Dressed in his sharp airline pilot’s uniform, Devin groggily accepts the large cup of coffee from the barista at the coffee joint in terminal C. The dark-eyed barista says in a cheerful voice, “and which ones do you fly?” Normally Devin would reply with a flirty comment to an attractive young woman, but it’s too early. Without emotion he says, “British Airways, an A320,” to the raven-haired woman as he slides his card into the reader.

It’s been a long 6-day trip for Devin with multiple stops all over Europe each day. Thankfully, this morning is the last leg. He’s returning home to London and several days of well-earned rest. He’s a copilot for British Airways, a job he loves. He’s young, but he’s a knowledgeable and skilled pilot. Among his peers he’s well respected and on the fast track to becoming a captain.

Walking through the concourse, his eyes begin to open wider as the first hints of caffeine flow through his veins. By the time he arrives at his assigned gate, he’s fully roused for the morning’s flight home. He greets the gate crew, then heads down the stairs to the tarmac and begins preflighting the 120-person airbus.

The early morning air in Istanbul is warm and heavy with humidity. As he walks around the jet with a flashlight, he attentively checks all the aircraft’s systems, just as he was trained. Finding no abnormalities, he heads back upstairs and strolls through the jet bridge and onto the airplane.

He turns left into the cockpit and settles into the copilot seat. He gets right to work setting up the instruments and programming the aircraft’s navigation computers. Devin’s schedule shows him flying with Naomi Hess today. It’s his first time flying with her, and he wants to impress the captain by having his entire checklist completed before she arrives.

In the male dominated world of aviation, women tend to go one of two directions. Raging bitches and cool operators. Devin knows Naomi’s reputation, and she’s definitely one of the good ones. She is recognized as a first-rate pilot and as a fun and charismatic personality. Everyone loves flying with her.

Devin met her in passing over a year ago. She was tall, maybe 175 cm, rather athletic, strawberry blonde, lightly freckled, and in her mid-30s. He heard some of the older pilots talking about her sex appeal, but his eyes are drawn to women closer to his own age. He’s not interested in being cougar bait to a MILF.

As he finishes the last checks on the overhead panel, he hears footsteps behind him, then a buoyant female voice saying, “watch out, big ol’ cow coming through.” Devin doesn’t reply, remaining focused on his nearly complete checklist.

He fulfills the last step of his checks by flicking two switches into position, then he turns to acknowledge Naomi. As he rotates backwards in his seat, he’s immediately greeted with a face full of Naomi’s right ass cheek as she tries to shimmy past. Her black trousers are tight, giving him a nice feel of the older woman’s firm buttocks.

“Oh, bloody hell! I’m so sorry Devin,” she calls out in a cheery British accent as she squeezes farther forward in the cockpit. Devin’s eyes can’t help but trace the lines of her shapely legs. They’re concealed behind the black pants, but the tight fabric leaves little to imagination at close range. He examines a little higher to see the faint lines of her panties outlined against her round bottom. Devin’s masculine mind spends the next three seconds consumed in lewd thoughts about her curvy derriere before he breaks back to the real world.

He watches as his companion for today’s flight plops into the seat beside him and reaches out her hand for a handshake. “Hi, I’m Naomi.” She chuckles a bit, “I don’t normally stick my ass in a colleague’s face, but, well, it’s getting more challenging these days, sorry!”

As Devin shakes her outstretched hand, his jaw drops to the floor. Naomi is fat. Not fat, round, or maybe plump. No, the correct word is rotund. But it’s only her tummy. It’s like she’s smuggling a beachball under her white button-down pilot’s shirt. He can’t help but stare at the sphere. He notices that each button on the tight white shirt seems strained to its breaking point by the orb beneath.

He finally breaks his eyes free from her gravid mound after an awkwardly long pause, then looks up to make eye contact with her. “Don’t worry Devin, everyone has the same reaction,” she says with a little laugh. “Yes, I’m pregnant. No, it’s not twins. Yes, my doctor has cleared me to continue flying. No, I’m not planning to give birth while we’re in the air.” She nods, “there, that should cover the standard briefing.” Devin shakes his head up and down fretfully.

“Oh wait, two more: Yes, I have to pee A LOT. And no, I honestly don’t know who the dad is.” She cocks her head and a cheeky grin grows on her face as she pauses, “my wife and I picked a sperm donor at random.” She snickers, proud of her joke. Then she gets to business, “alright then, let’s get going. How’s the checklist?”

Devin takes a deep breath to steady his mind, “the checklist is complete. We’re ready to initiate boarding.”

They each put on their headsets and Devin hears Naomi make a quick call to the flight attendants to let them know to begin boarding the passengers, then she gets to work on her own checklist.

As Naomi works, Devin peers over to her. Seeing that she’s deep in concentration, he lets his eyes drop to survey the mysterious landscape of her expectant body. Of course, he’s seen pregnant women before, but this is the closest he’s been in a long time.

He perceives that everything about her is normal, except for the giant ball-shape that takes up her middle. He gapes in astonishment as a spot on the belly appears to jab out. He blinks twice, unsure if his eyes are playing tricks. Then he spies an even more vigorous flutter in her belly. It dawns on him that he’s observing the baby moving inside Naomi.

As he continues to stare, his mind is torn. He’s always thought of pregnant women as unattractive and fat. But he can’t fight off the feeling that the woman beside him, in this condition, is somehow puzzlingly sexy. His dick twitches at the concept.

Quickly, Devin pulls himself back to his job and he readies the next checklist. After a minute, Naomi says, “alright now, engine start checklist, please.”

“Ok…seatbelts,” Devin calls.

As he turns toward Naomi to latch his belt, he can’t help but behold her belly again. He watches in delight as she pulls the belt tight in her lap, tugging her shirt tighter against the lower region of her expansive belly, showing off the whole sphere. It’s a marvelous sight.

Returning to the checklist, Devin calls out, “A.P.U.,” and Naomi replies crisply, “start,” after moving the knob into position.

This call-and-response of the checklist continues until Devin says, “engine master,” and Naomi responds, “start.”

As the dials for the left engine spring to life, they call back-and-forth in rapid succession, “20%...check on, N1, N2…check, oil pressure…check.” They each watch the instruments like hawks for signs of a problem.

Devin smiles to himself. Naomi may be pregnant, but her condition hasn’t impacted her skillset in the cockpit. Her movements are fluid and purposeful. Her voice is crisp and confident. He can tell that she’s excellent at her job. He can learn a thing-or-two from her.

After both jet engines are running, there’s another minute of downtime. Devin can’t help but look over at his pregnant captain again. He’s ridiculously interested in exploring Naomi’s mystifying body further. Seeing that her attention is focused on something outside the left window, he’s free to take another peek.

His eyes begin to drop lower, but something stops them before they reach her belly. Her body’s rotation has resulted in a gaping opening between the second and third button of her strained white shirt. The gape provides an unobstructed view of her left boob. The sizable knocker is held by a lacy white brassiere and from Devin’s angle, he can clearly see the pale, soft, milky skin of her upper breast spilling out of the bra’s cup. As she inhales, he sees the soft boob swell upwards even farther.

Nervous that his gaze might be caught, he quickly averts his eyes from Naomi’s chest and stares down towards his feet. He’s now categorically concluded that pregnant women are sexy.

Devin hears Naomi’s crisp British accent over the radio, “ground, this is Speedbird six-seven-five, at gate bravo two-four, request pushback clearance.” The controller quickly approves the request.

While their airplane is being pushed by the ground crew, Devin hears an unusual sound. It’s normal to hear the faint noise of the other pilot’s breathing through the intercom, but Naomi’s noise is more perceptible, “hoooooo, whoooooo, hoooooo, whoooooo, hoooooo, whoooooo.”

Devin’s concern over the noise is lost in the action as they taxi towards the runway and ready the airliner for takeoff. The controller announces, “Speedbird six-seven-five, cleared for takeoff, runway three-five left.” Naomi repeats the radio call, then nods to Devin. Takeoff will be his responsibility today.

He moves his left hand to the throttle and places his right hand on the Airbus’ sidestick. Per company policy, Naomi places her hand on top of Devin’s on the throttles. He’s accustomed to this arrangement, but today the feeling of the pregnant woman’s soft skin touching his hand briefly distracts him.

He advances the throttles to the preset takeoff thrust and the Airbus springs to life, being shot down the runway by two powerful turbofan engines.

As they accelerate, Naomi calls out, “eighty,” and Devin replies “checked,” after verifying his airspeed indicator. A few seconds later, Naomi calls out, “V1,” signifying that they can no longer safely stop on the runway if an engine fails. A second later, Naomi calls “rotate,” and Devin begins to pull back on the sidestick, pointing the big jet into the morning sky.

The airbus leaps off the runway and Naomi says, “positive rate.” Devin requests, “gear up.” At his command, Naomi reaches out and pulls the landing gear handle to the retracted position.

As they climb through a broken layer of clouds at four thousand feet, the controller broadcasts, “Speedbird six-seven-five, contact departure at one-two-six decimal four-two-five. Have a good day.”

With the airplane stabilized and climbing, Devin looks again at Naomi. The bright morning sunlight is streaming through the cockpit windows, bathing her face in golden rays. The sunlight makes it look like she’s glowing. Devin does a double take, recognizing Naomi’s true radiance for the first time.

Then he sneaks one more look at her belly. He wonders what the round tummy feels like. Is it soft, hard, smooth, or lumpy? Maybe all of these at the same time? As he ponders, he watches the belly rise and fall with each breath she takes.

After another minute, Devin switches on the autopilot and both pilots relax. Above ten thousand feet they’re allowed to have normal conversations.

Naomi starts, “boy, I’m knackered. These early mornings are rough.”

Devin replies, “no kidding. This is the last leg of my trip. I’m really looking forward to some rest at home.”

“Are you from London?” Naomi queries.

“Yep, I have a flat near Heathrow.”

“Ah, must be nice to live so close to work. I live in the Kensington neighborhood. This is my last leg as well, but not just of my trip. This is my last flight before I start medical leave to download this fella.” She gestures to her belly.

“Hey, uh, congratulations, by the way, I don’t think I mentioned anything before. I was just, well, a little startled.”

“Oh, don’t worry, it doesn’t bother me. I’d probably have the same reaction. There aren’t many pregnant airline pilots!”

Devin hears the faint noises again over the intercom, “uhhh…..whewww…uhhh….whewww.”

“So, is it a boy or a girl?”

“Actually, we don’t know. I wanted to find out, but my wife prefers a surprise.”

Devin continues, “cool, is it your first kid?”

She cuddles her arms around her burgeoning belly, “yep, first kid at the ripe old age of 37! My wife is only 28, but she’s, um, a sensitive type.” Naomi puts air-quotes around the word sensitive. “So, we decided that I would be the one to carry this cheeky fellow,” she says with hints of exasperation.

“Don’t get me wrong, the whole thing is exciting and wonderful, but I’m certainly not looking forward to the birth part of this. At the last appointment, the doctors told me the head is in the 99th percentile.”

“Oh wow,” Devin chimes in, unsure of the appropriate reply.

“Ya, so congratulations to me, I guess. Wish me luck pushing a giant out. My wife thinks I should have a natural birth, but no way. I’ll be demanding an epidural as soon as I set foot in the hospital door!”

Devin is embarrassed at the topic. Of course, he knows how babies are born, but it’s not every day that a pregnant woman talks to him about pushing a baby from her hoo-ha. In fact, he hasn’t thought much about childbirth since sex-ed class back in school. He considers the trial that Naomi is soon to endure, squeezing a giant baby out of a normally dainty opening. He cringes at the concept.

“OH!” she exclaims sharply.

Devin looks over with alarm.

“Eh, just some kicks, I didn’t mean to startle you. The kid has been trying to beat me up ever since we took off! I think he’s just excited to be flying.”

The conversation goes quiet, and Devin can hear the peculiar breathing again, “mmm…ohhhwwww, mmm, ohhhwwww, mmm…ohhhwwww.”

Part 2

Devin closely observes the aircraft’s instruments as they approach their assigned cruising altitude of thirty-seven thousand feet. The autopilot is flying the airplane, but the pilots still have an active role in monitoring the aircraft’s performance. As expected, the Airbus slowly levels off at the assigned altitude and the auto-throttle reduces the engine’s power as the big airliner settles into cruise flight.

Naomi is just as focused as Devin. Once she’s happy that the aircraft is stable, she says, “ok, cruise checklist, Devin.”

Devin starts reading the checklist and Naomi replies as she accomplishes each task. The commotion of their work masks some of Naomi’s sounds. When it’s quiet, though, Devin can still identify the distinct labored breaths from Naomi.

Out of the corner of his eye, Devin sees Naomi grab each armrest with her hands and push her torso more upright. It’s obvious that she’s uncomfortable and trying to find relief. She’s motionless for a second, then he sees the globe of her big belly constrict into a smaller and tighter ball. As this happens, she rubs her gravid tummy.

Devin can’t decide whether he should say something about the situation. As he ponders this question, the radio crackles to life, “Speedbird six-seventy-five, turn left to two-seven-five degrees.” Devin reaches to the panel to input the minor heading adjustment into the autopilot.

Naomi replies to the controller, “Speedbird six-seventy-five, l-left to…mmmMMMM…t-two seven-five, huuuu.” At this point, there’s no denying it, she’s clearly in distress.

Devin turns to face Naomi. She stares back at him. Her eyes are wide with alarm. She finally says, “Devin, I think I may have lied to you earlier. I-I-I think I’m in labor.”

Devin is visibly stunned at Naomi’s confession.

Naomi takes two deep breaths to calm herself. Then she says to Devin in a composed voice, “its ok, first-time moms are usually in labor for at least twelve hours, sometimes even days. We should just carry-on as normal; we have less than 2 hours to London.” She waves her hands and smiles, “I’m fine!”

Devin is still too stunned to speak and continues watching his pregnant companion closely. Her belly surges and her face contorts. Devin hears the gasps over the intercom, “ahh-hh, haaa-aaa, hoooo.”

Naomi gathers herself, “it’s fine, Devin.” Devin’s reply is professional. “I’m going to check on some diversion options, just in case we need them.” Naomi can’t say no to his reasonable plan.

Devin uses the airplane’s onboard flight computer to add their preplanned diversion airports onto the moving map display. As he brings up the distance and flight time for each airport, a loud cry from Naomi startles him. “Heeeee! Hiii!”

He turns to her, more alarmed than ever. As his eyes pan over her expectant body, he sees that she’s repositioned herself. She’s slumped back in the seat and her legs are slightly spread. Her right hand is between her crotch and a strange, slightly sweet smell has entered the cockpit.

She turns to him with an ashen face. Her previous cavalier attitude has given way to shock. Deadpan, she says, “Devin…my water…it just broke.” Devin peers lower and notices the wet spot spreading through the dark fabric of her pants.

Before Devin can process this new information, Naomi arches her back and widens her legs. She grunts softly, then an urgent, “Hiiiiiiyyyyya, Uhhhhhh!” comes from her.

She looks back to Devin and exclaims, “oh, gawd that bloody hurt. Shit, I can feel the head pushing inside me-eee.”

Suddenly, she starts frantically fiddling with her belt buckle and pant buttons. Devin finally finds his voice, “Naomi, Naomi…what are you doing?”

She replies quickly, “I have to check myself.” Devin’s face betrays confusion, so she continues, “I have to see how much my cervix has dilated. I think it’s a lot, I think I feel the head in my coochie.” Devin’s eyes grow wider than silver dollars and his face turns crimson with blush. Naomi sees his reaction, “I’m bloody sorry Devin. Things are about to get really personal in this cockpit.”

Remembering that he’s the primary pilot at this point, Devin turns his attention back to the airplane’s instruments. He scans the critical information exactly as he’s been trained. He finds they’re still precisely on course and all of the aircraft’s systems are operating normally.

He turns back to check on Naomi. He’s startled to see that she’s unbuttoned her shirt from her abdomen. The round, pale belly pulsates as a contraction flows through her body. She grunts as this happens, “uhhhhh, hu, hu, hoooooo.” Then Devin looks lower and realizes that she’s completely removed her pants and panties. Her long, pale, athletic legs are striking. Then he sees the puffy pinkness of her meaty preggo vagina. His dick uncontrollably springs to life at the lovely view.

“DEVIN!” She calls out, breaking his daze. “This baby’s coming fast. I’m definitely not going to make it to London. We should divert. You’ll have to be a single pilot. I don’t, hmmm-mmm-MMM, think, ohhhhh, I’ll be any help.”

Devin’s training quickly kicks in. He pushes the transmit button and speaks clearly, “Center, this is Speedbird six-seventy-five, Pan…Pan…Pan.” He uses the internationally recognized term for an urgent situation. The air traffic controller quickly replies. “Speedbird six-seventy-five, what’s the nature of your problem?”

Devin is concise. “My captain is incapacitated. Request immediate diversion to the nearest airport.”

The other aircraft on the frequency go quiet, understanding the priority. Then the controller replies, “Speedbird six-seventy-five, turn left to two-one-five degrees, vectors to Charles de Gaulle airport. When able, please say how many souls on-board, fuel on-board, and details on the condition of the captain.”

Devin already has the answers, “Speedbird six-seventy-five has 127 souls on board, 4 hours of fuel remaining, and my captain is in labor.”

The reply is quick with a strong French accent, “this must be a prank! Stop joking around. Captains don’t have babies.”

Devin keys the mic, but before he can speak, Naomi cries out again, “HAAAA, OOOOH, AHHHH!” her cries being transmitted over the frequency. Devin speaks, “did you hear that? My captain is having a baby right now. We must land immediately.”

The French controller’s voice becomes sober, “Speedbird six-seventy-five, I understand, I’m sorry. You’re cleared to descend to flight level two zero zero, heading two-one-five.”

Devin looks over at his laboring Captain to verify that she understands that they’re heading to Paris. He watches her grab her belly with both hands and let a mighty wail, “Mmmmmmaaaaa.” Then she pants, catching her breath before another wail, “Mmm, Mmmmmmmayyy!”

Devin realizes that she’s pushing. She’s actively giving birth right beside him in the cockpit. He knows the best way to help her at this point is to get on the ground, so he returns to his task of flying the airliner. But first, he takes a quick glance between her legs and gawks at her very exposed pregnant pussy. He feels a drop of pre-cum leak from his stiff shaft.

As they descend through twenty-two thousand feet, Devin suddenly hears a loud chime alerting him that the autopilot has disconnected. It would only have disconnected if there was a problem with the system or if one of the pilots manipulated the controls. His highly trained senses suddenly spring into action to diagnose the problem.

He feels the aircraft begin to accelerate. They’re already descending and are close to the maximum safe speed for the thicker air at the lower altitude, so he needs to act fast. He grabs the sidestick to take manual control of the aircraft and scans the instruments. He quickly notices that the engine instruments show increasing power, but the engines should be at a low power setting for their decent. The higher power setting is a major red flag.

He turns to the throttles and reaches out to pull back the levers. Then he finally sees the problem. The cockpit wasn’t designed with enough room for a woman to spread her legs during labor. Naomi has unintentionally pushed the throttles forward with her right thigh while she was pushing.

The smooth, soft, fair skin of her thigh squeezed against the throttle levers beckons to him, enticing him to reach out and stroke her sexy leg. He pushes the lustful thought from his mind and speaks, “hey Naomi,” he says calmly, “you’re pressing on the throttles with your leg.”

She quickly understands and moves her leg to a new position that doesn’t interfere with any aircraft controls. She utters, “oh Devin, damnit I’m so sorry!” Then she cries louder, “this is terrible! I can feel EVERYTHING. Uh, mmmm, SHIT!”

Devin watches Naomi as she contracts again. Her belly pulses and she bears down with a scowl on her face. He sees that she’s sweating. Clearly, she’s going through a massive challenge. Her eyes fixate, staring into nothingness, and she exerts a massive push with a cry, “HEEEEEEE-EEEEEEE.”

As he watches his pregnant companion, a voice enters his headset, “Speedbird six-seventy-five, you’re cleared to decent to five thousand feet, contact tower at one-one-nine decimal two-five. They know your situation and will have medical personnel standing by when you land.”

Devin replies, “Speedbird six-seventy-five, cleared down to five thousand. Thank you.” He quickly adjusts the autopilot and inputs the new frequency into the radio panel.

He looks back to Naomi and sees her push again. She’s shaking as she strains her body. Devin is shocked as he glances between her creamy-colored thighs. He sees that her once elegant vagina has been stretched open by a baby’s large head with dark hair. It’s startling and also kinda sexy to see her body gaping open like this.

Naomi calls out frantically, “Devin, Devin, what does it look like?” For a second, Devin thinks that he’s been caught staring, but then he realizes that she simply wants to know how her body is responding to labor.

He’s nearly speechless and simply says, “I see the head.”

Before she can respond, she shrieks again, “Ayyyyyy, He, He, Ayyyyyy.” As she pushes Devin sees the baby’s head bulge outwards and expand her pussy into a wide teardrop.

Devin watches her laboring, strained vagina with awe, then pulls his mind back to the task of flying the airplane. Because they’re getting close to the runway, he takes manual control of the aircraft and starts making small control inputs. He starts lowering the flaps and eventually extends the landing gear.

As he flies, he hears Naomi scream wildly, “HIIIYA, HIIIYYYYYAAAA, AHHHHHHHH.” He wants to look over, but he must concentrate on flying. She screams again, completely unhinged , “HIIIYYYYYAAAA, HIIIYYYYYAAAA, HIIIYY--.” Then a second of silence fills the cockpit. A baby’s shrill wail erupts, breaking the calm.

“A BOY!” Naomi shouts cheerfully.

The baby boy’s cries intensify as Naomi holds him on her chest. Between happy tears, she blabbers to the baby, “you’re born to be a pilot, aren’t you! Just like mommy!”

Devin looks ahead at the approaching runway; he’s perfectly aligned to land. He keys the mic one more time. “Tower, Speedbird six-seventy-five, update to our souls on board. We now have 128.”

The controller responds, “Speedbird six-seventy-five, please congratulate the new mom! You’re cleared to land, runway two-six-right.” Other aircraft excitedly chime-in on the frequency, “CONGRATS!” “HURRAY!” “YAY!” “GOOD JOB CAPTAIN HESS!” “WAY TO GO, MOMMA!”

--The End--

[two-thirtyy]

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

Look buddy, i’m just trying to make it to Friday.

[taykoutmccleod]

reblog if its friday and you made it

[the-iceni-bitch]

Last Updated: 03/31/21

All fics contain smut unless otherwise noted, so no minors please!!! (Fics in red are with the same couple)

Additional Warnings

😥minor angst

😭major angst

Fics:

All I Need 😭

Search No More

Close Your Eyes, Take my Hand

Prompts and HCs:

Andy helps you unwind after a long day

You make Andy pay attention to you

Daddy!Andy is not happy with you

Friends to lovers

[horrrifiction]

[towhomevercares]

🍻

[furiousgoldfish]

who else just goes around like “well eventually my life will be worth living right”

[thinnertakesitall]

it’s so fucking hard having ana AND a binge disorder.

my brain half of the time is like ~don’t eat, nothing tastes as good as being thin~

BUT tHen will randomly switch to U ATE A GRANOLA BAR?? MIGHT AS WELL EAT 2000 CALORIES TODAY

[ohgod-awesome-posts]

Me, sipping a lemonade and watching my life go to shit: hoo boy I’m gonna have to deal with that some day

[hempkitty]

me after every conversation: why the fuck did i say that

[arandomthot]

I once again feel attacked

[shrivelanddie-blog]

i am so mad that i let myself get this fat

[ghore]

I’m on a new diet called don’t fucking look at me

[iu]

*wants to read* *doesnt read*

*wants to draw* *doesnt draw*

*wants to study a language* *doesnt study the language*

*wants to watch new movies* *doesnt watch new movies*

*wants to do stuff i like and enjoy* *doesnt*

[momqueer]

this is called depression

[peach-and-die]

People with EDs during quarantine

50% of people: omg!! i have three weeks to get skinny! i'm gonna come back to school so FIT!

the other 50%: send help. i cannot stop eating. i have eaten my entire kitchen and it's only 9 am. i'm dying

[myskinnyself]

I'm the other 50% cRaPp

[daintyandethereal]

Just in case anyone was wondering..

I only apply my strict body standards to myself. I think other girls look AMAZING all curvy and shit and I do not judge them by their weight or body type whatsoever. I only need myself to be tiny.

[myskinnyself]

That’s it, it is what it is

[dreamv-lle2]

ceo of wanting to lose weight but can’t stop eating

[letsmakeitwritee]

“Someone once asked me what depression feels like. I said ‘like a slower way of being dead’ and I know it doesn’t make any sense but that’s just the way it is. laying in bed, unable to move even though there is nothing physically wrong with you doesn’t make much sense either. A family member once asked me why at my age I didn’t have a job. I said ‘i’m sick’ and they said ‘being sad isn’t the same as being sick’ and, yeah, they’re right. being sad ISN’T the same as being sick. i can’t call in sad to work, or to school, or to anywhere else for that matter without being accused of throwing a self-pity party to which the only attendees are me and my sadness which is constantly being invalidated by those who don’t understand it, including me, because I don’t understand my sadness either. it’s difficult to admit this but the ugly truth is i have been sad for so long that I no longer remember what it’s like not be. kind of like when you have a cold and can’t breathe through your nose but instead of not being able to breathe through your nose, you can’t breathe AT ALL and all you can do is wait to suffocate while the people around you ask you what’s wrong but you can’t tell them because it wouldn’t make any sense. It never makes any sense.”

—

[dankmemesreasonforliving]