Depression

I can feel it again, the swirling feeling, like I'm sinking. I want to be numb because I don't want to feel.

Depression is an evil mistress. She lies and lies. She makes you think things that are completely untrue. She whispers these untruths in your ear softly, you barely hear then at first, but they get louder and louder and louder until it sounds like screaming, drowning out all of the good voices, pushing them down.

Depression is hard to fight. And she often brings along her good friend Anxiety. Anxiety is really no one's friend,  but he whispers half truths, and statistics, and makes everything so overwhelming until you can't even function.

Together they tag team you until you are a shell of a person. A ghost of your former self.

And it isn't this fault. It isn't your fault that these demons lie. Because it's a chemical imbalance in your brain. It isn't your fault. No one chooses to feel this way. No one wants those demons talking all that smack and manning them feel less than. 

And getting help, doing something to change that imbalance? Is OK. It's good for you. It's important.  Because people love you, when though the demons say they don't. Because people want you to be around, even when you hear whispers saying they don't.

You are important to someone. Your life is worth living.