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I think I finally know what clinical depression feels like.

It isn’t numbness.

It isn’t having a severe lack of motivation.

It isn’t laying around watching a show day after day.

It isn’t spending all day on your phone.

It isn’t getting drunk every day.

It isn’t crying about a heartbreak.

It isn’t hating where you’re going in life.

It isn’t hating who you are.

It isn’t hating the world.

It isn’t hating the way you look.

It isn’t feeling uncomfortable in your own skin.

It isn’t feeling like you’re not good enough.

It isn’t being scared about dying.

It isn’t being disgusted by most of the world.

It isn’t hating most of the people in the disgusting world.

It isn’t having anxiety.

It isn’t hating yourself for having anxiety.

And it isn’t even all these feelings combined.

Those are all the normal responses to existence.

What it is really, is far far worse than all these feelings combined.

It’s an overwhelming feeling of grief that doesn’t go away.

Imagine you’re dog


Your best friend


Your brother


Your nephew


Your dog


Your future

All dying at once.

The only problem is,

Imagining it doesn’t do it justice.

You have to feel it.

You have to feel it for days.

For months





That overwhelming feeling of grief.

Of loss.

Of pain.

Feeling like any conversation could make your stupid eyes leak fluid.

Feeling like at any moment you could break.

Feeling like someone close to you will die

And you’ll get that call

That call that tells you that your son died.


That call doesn’t come.

And you have no real reason for feeling this way.

You feel like something serious is wrong with you

And you don’t know why.

You wait for this feeling to go away

But it doesn’t.

The only relief is sleep



Even your sleep is suffering.

Let me be clear here,

I’ve only been feeling this way for a short while.

I can’t imagine who I’ll become if it keeps continuing.

I used to think that I had been depressed

but now I know...

those were the good days that I took for granted.

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