"You want to know how I got these scars?"

Depression is playing Pokémon Emerald with an emulator on your laptop until the fuse in your room blows. And only managing to get six gym badges along the way.

Depression is getting a large box of biscuits and milk from your mom and rushing through them all in two days.

Depression is eating rehydrated instant cup noodles for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks after finishing the aforementioned large box of foodstuff.

Depression is playing The Notting Hillbillies' "Feel Like Going Home" on the piano over and over and over again, and failing to shed a single tear, while your heart feels like stopping, and doesn't, and your eyes keep sneaking glances at that red kitchen knife you carry around everywhere everyday, and not having the guts to use it as you want to.

Depression is watching three seasons of Game of Thrones in five days.

Depression is reading a book about personalities and going back again and again to the chapters on sociopaths, because who doesn't like reading about themselves?

Depression is spending only two hours attending class in a semester. And zero hours on exams.

Depression is asking your friends, "What would you do if one day you received news that I committed suicide?" right before getting off the car.

Depression is trying to type a confession of all the things you have and have not done, addressed to your parents, knowing that they are currently so very thrilled that your little brother has just been accepted in universities abroad.

Depression is having a dream where you see your beloved friend, with his hair dyed blond, smiling and waving at you, walking away, getting on with his happy life, while you sit on a table at a pier with your back to the evening sun and a stranger on your side, unable to stand and give a goodbye hug to that friend, wanting to scream and finding your throat blocked by something, and only managing to smile weakly while tears escaped your eyes and rolls down your cheeks onto your chin and then falling to the gravel below.

Depression is having your cold fingers tremble while pushing buttons in front of a glowing screen.

Depression is packs of cigarettes and large bottles of cola.



Depression is not Destiny, nor Death, nor Dream. It is not even Destruction. You would think it was Desire, and Despair, and you would be wrong. I wish it were Delirium. Alas, it is not.



Depression is doom.