De-pres-sion
Title: De-pres-sion
Summary: He dreams of waves, of water, crashing over him, consuming him. He dreams of falling down, being pulled down, and looking up to see those people he thinks used to be his friends.
Warnings: depression, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempts
Author's notes: this story took six months. more author's notes at the end of the fic to explain the reason why this story exists.
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D e p r e s s i o n
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De - pres - sion: An illness that involves the body, mood, and thoughts, that affects the way a person eats and sleeps, the way one feels about oneself, and the way one thinks about things.
Stare.
Close browser.
Turn off laptop.
~*~
He feels like a disappointment. A waste of space.
He has no energy, no drive, no will... He stays in bed most of the time, when he's not supposed to be at school. His homework is laid out on his desk, but he hasn't touched it since he dropped it there. The door is shut, as are the windows and the blinds. He's curled up on his bed, the blankets wrapped around him tightly.
He knows that he has to get up soon, has to put a smile on his face so his family won't find out - won't realize just how much of a waste he truly is and tell him to get out. It's not like they'd care, he tells himself a second later. They won't miss me. After all, without me they're the perfect family.
Perfect...
He's not perfect, at all. He's not buff, nor does he have a lot of strength. He has an unnaturally high voice for a male, and he buys too many fancy clothes.
He sighs, then looks over at his closet, where his fancy clothes are hanging. Lately he hasn't felt the need to care about matching the outfit perfectly with other accessories. He does, though, make sure to look halfway decent, so that no one else catches on. He still gets compliments from Tina and Mercedes on the shirt he was wearing that day; he still has Blaine pulling him aside to whisper in his ear how hot he looks that day; he still has people complimenting him.
But it's only because he's still trying. I bet that if I stop trying they'd stop caring, he thinks as he rolls over to his right side, due to his left side starting to hurt. If he stopped trying to make everything seem like it was okay, he'd lose Tina and Mercedes talking to him; he'd lose Blaine looking at him with want; he'd lose all that he had left.
His alarm clock rings and he lets out a sigh - that means he has ten minutes before he has to leave for school and he hasn't even gotten out of bed. He doesn't want to leave his bed, doesn't want to go get something to eat, doesn't want to go to school where there are people, where his friends are. But he has to, because if he doesn't they'll get suspicious. He already suspects that Blaine has a suspicion that something is wrong with him, so if he doesn't show up today, he knows Blaine will come over.
And then he'll find out.
And then he'll be done with Kurt.
And then Kurt will be done with everything.
He climbs out of bed, halfheartedly runs a comb through his hair, then puts on the clothes he wears when he isn't feeling well. It's somewhat true - the clothes he usually wears when he's physically sick, but he'll be able to make himself seem like he's getting a cold. He hasn't done his moisturizing routine in four days, so he's pretty sure that he's looking ill; he wouldn't know. He hasn't really looked at himself in the mirror lately, because if he does, all he'll see is failure.
He'll see what he knows his dad sees in him each day; the looks of my god, why is he my son, will be all too real.
He climbs into his car, no music playing as he drives to school. He doesn't really know why he started feeling like this, he just knows that he is feeling like this, and that it's not going away.
Well, whatever, he thinks as he parks, makes his way into the school and to his locker. Life's shit anyway.
Blaine's waiting for him by his locker, holding his phone close to his face as he types something, and for a second he feels a smile beginning to form, but then Finn calls out Blaine's name; Blaine looks up, his smile becomes wider and he waves, turning away from Kurt's locker like he hadn't been waiting for his boyfriend, and wanders over to Finn. The two hug and then turn down the corner, and the smile that Kurt thought he'd felt vanishes completely.
Okay.
He makes his trip to his locker quick, then heads to his first class, head down and arms wrapped tight around his waist. All throughout the class, he ignores what the teacher says, ignores the paper wads that are tossed at his head, the laughter and happiness that rings throughout the classroom.
Whatever, he thinks.
He doesn't have any classes with his friends today, so he spends the hours until lunch alone, thinking that there's a chance he could feel a little better with his friends during lunch - maybe if he eats with them, joins in on their conversations, maybe things will be okay.
But at lunch time, he sits on the end of the table, staring at the apple he'd grabbed just so that he could trick his friends that he is eating (when he really isn't), and finds that he's unable to participate in the many conversations floating around the table. Santana and Brittany are sitting with their hands laced together, the same with the recently united Sam and Mercedes, Tina and Mike, Finn and Rachel - Blaine is sitting far away from him, laughing at something that Artie said, his smile bright and cheerful.
Kurt hates it.
Halfway through the lunch break he pulls out his phone and looks up the word again.
D e p r e s s i o n
He clicks on the first link, scrolls past the definition and reads:
Common signs and symptoms of depression:
Feelings of helplessness and hopelessness. A bleak outlook-nothing will ever get better and there’s nothing you can do to improve your situation.
Loss of interest in daily activities. No interest in former hobbies, pastimes, social activities, or sex. You’ve lost your ability to feel joy and pleasure.
Kurt pauses at that one, thinking back on the last time he and Blaine had had sex. Three weeks ago, he concludes. Three weeks is a normal time to go without having sex, he reasons. We're both busy...
He continues reading.
Loss of energy. Feeling fatigued, sluggish, and physically drained. Your whole body may feel heavy, and even small tasks are exhausting or take longer to complete.
Self-loathing. Strong feelings of worthlessness or guilt. You harshly criticize yourself for perceived faults and mistakes.
He locks his phone quickly when he feels Blaine slide into the spot next to him. “Hey, you,” Blaine says happily. “How's your day been?”
Kurt shrugs. “It's been fine,” he says.
Blaine wraps an arms around his waist in a hug, then glances down at the apple. “Is that all you're eating?”
Kurt shrugs, wanting to lean into Blaine but unsure if he can. “I'm kind of too tired to eat,” he admits, because it's true. He is tired.
Blaine rubs his back a few times before he takes his arm away. “Do you want to make a coffee run after school?”
Kurt nods, even though he really doesn't want to go, because Blaine's offering to spend time with him, which he hasn't been doing a lot lately; most of the time, he just says he's sorry, but he's 'too busy at the moment. Maybe some other time?' and all Kurt can do is nod and say okay.
Maybe he's bored of me, he thinks after all of his classes are over and he's heading to Glee club. I'd be bored of me.
There's no one in the choir room when he walks in. Frowning, he glances around confused, then pokes his head out of the door and manages to catch Tina as she's walking down the hall.
“There's no rehearsal today,” she says as she ties her hair up into a bun. “Did you not get the text? I think Blaine said he'd forward it to you.”
No, I didn't get the text. I haven't been getting a lot of the texts that you guys send out, he thinks as she walks away. And Blaine hasn't been sending me texts lately either. I guess he's too busy to do even that, he thinks bitterly as he walks to his car, preparing to drive to the Lima Bean.
No, he finally admits to himself once he's at the Lima Bean, sitting in his car, staring blankly at the steering wheel. He probably doesn't want to talk to me, or he's trying to find a way to break up with me. I wouldn't want to talk to me, he thinks as he walks in through the door.
The first thing he notices is that the Warblers are there - all of them. They're laughing, being the playful bunch they'd been when Kurt had last seen them. He's about ready to walk towards them when he sees Blaine standing in the midst of them, Sebastian Smythe's hand on the small of his back.
Kurt shrinks back to the door, bumping into someone as he does so. He stares at the hand, the one hand that he hates - no, that's not right. Kurt doesn't hate it; he doesn't have the energy to. Okay, he thinks as he backtracks to his car, gets in and begins to head home. He's not mad at Blaine - Blaine's moved on, and how could Kurt be mad at him when I'd dump me too?
He checks the mail once he reaches home, only because it's a routine; he's done it so many times that his body just does it, whether he wants to or not. There's five letters in the mail box, two for his dad, one for Carole, one for Finn -
And one for him from NYADA.
He leaves the other four letters on the table once he reaches the kitchen, then opens his letter.
He reads it, blinks, then reads again, trying to see if he'd misread the word accepted. He hasn't, but instead of being happy, because he's just been accepted to his dream school, he lets his eyes slide closed, sags against the counter, then stands, walks over to the pantry, pulls out the recycle bin and tosses his accepted letter into the trash.
The school has made a bad choice, he decides as he heads up to his room and lays down on his bed. He's not going to be going to NYADA. He's not going to be going out of Lima. He was born in Lima, he'll die in Lima. He's accepted this. He rolls onto his side, then pulls his phone out of his pocket once he feels it vibrate. The glare from the screen tells him that it's 5:37, which means he'd been in bed a lot longer than he'd though.
Oh well, he thinks as he unlocks the screen and reads the text message he'd received. It's the first one he's gotten in a while.
How come you didn't show? : (
the text message from Blaine says.
Kurt sighs, presses delete, turns his phone off, then rolls over and falls asleep, thinking that maybe, just maybe he'd feel better the next day.
The next day, when he doesn't feel better, he doesn't bother to change out of the clothes he'd worn the previous day - no one asks him about it.
He goes through the motions that day, moving from one class to the other, ignoring the small, worried glances his fellow glee club members throw at him when they see him. He ignores the small touches he gets when he passes Tina, Blaine and Mike. He ignores the way, when Blaine hugs him, that his grip is extra tight; he ignores these things, because I don't understand it; I'm a waste. Well, whatever.
The day after that, he stops going to glee club.
He doesn't get any text messages once glee club gets out - no one asks where he was, why he missed, or if he was okay. Okay, he thinks as he curls up in bed and wonders what it would be like if he just didn't wake up the next morning. Okay then. It's over.
The day after that, he stops going to school.
His dad's out of town with his step-mom, so he's not getting any questions from him, and all he has to do is tell Finn that he thinks he's coming down with the flu one single time and then Finn doesn't bother him at all about it - doesn't ask any questions, just says that 'the guys in glee club wish you well'.
Not his friends, not his boyfriend (well, he lost Blaine a while ago, he assumes) - just the guys.
Okay, he thinks before he falls asleep for the third time that day.
He dreams of waves, of water, crashing over him, consuming him. He dreams of falling down, being pulled down, and looking up to see those people he thinks used to be his friends. In his dream he sees them playing in the water above him, sometimes looking down at him as he lays on the bottom of the ocean - they point down, wave, and then leave. Once the last one, Blaine (who blows him a kiss, then leaves arm in arm with Sebastian, laughing the entire way - they kiss once, and Kurt closes his eyes and doesn't open them), is gone, he exhales and drifts away.
He wakes up at six, realizing that his dad and Carole are going to be home in an hour and he still hasn't done the dishes he'd promised to do, so he drags himself out of bed and down to the kitchen to begin the chore. His dad would bother him if he comes home and the chores that Kurt had been given weren't done. His dad notices things like that.
He's finished the top row and is beginning on the bottom row when he sighs and wonders why am I still here?
He used to have an answer to that question. He doesn't anymore.
I'm kind of a bother, aren't I? he thinks as he looks down at his left wrist. Still staring at it, he takes his right hand, the one that is holding the butcher knife he doesn't remember taking out of the dishwasher, and runs the blade along the vein on his wrist. It's a quick movement, it doesn't cut, but it hits him a second later how quickly he'd done it, no hesitation whatsoever, and that if he'd been pressing down a little bit, just a little -
He drops the knife, letting it clatter to the ground as he brings both of his hands up to his mouth, breathing heavily.
Oh my god.
~*~
By the time his dad gets home, Kurt's back in bed, his blankets curled tightly around him as he clenches his eyes shut, trying to block out the noise as he thinks back to what had happened in the kitchen.
No, he thinks as he pretends to be asleep when his dad walks into his room, runs a hand through his hair, presses a hesitant kiss to his head and then leaves. It was just a fluke. It won't happen again.
He ends the thought on that, says that he's going to go to school the next day, and falls asleep.
When he wakes up, however, he doesn't feel any better, and when he looks at his phone he realizes that he's two hours late to class. He lets out a sigh, but climbs out of bed, finds an okay outfit and heads to school.
There's a couple of notes in his locker that fall out to the ground once he opens it. He picks them up, then heads to the choir room, because he has Glee for third period. He sits alone in the corner at the top of the rows and opens the letters, reading each of them slowly.
Kurt, I hope that you're feeling better soon! Can't wait to see you back in Glee! Tina
All of them are similar, except for Blaine's, which reads,
Hey, babe. I really hope that you're feeling better soon; I miss you : ( I wish that I could come over and help take care of you, but I know that you'd never allow it. When you come back to school and you're feeling better, we should have an after school date - it's been a while since we've had one of those, huh? I'm sorry I haven't been there for you in a while. I hope that you turn your phone on soon so that I can talk to you. I love you, Blaine.
It's then that he realizes that he's had his phone turned off since he'd received Blaine's text four days ago. He takes it out of his bag and turns it on, watching with wide eyes as text after text pops up, the majority of them from Blaine. They all range from worry to get well messages, and Kurt is surprised when he presses his lips to his phone after he reads the one from Blaine that simply says kiss.
But two minutes later, when he hears the bell ring, signaling everyone that class was over, he panics, just knowing that once everyone sees him they'll realize what he already knows - he's useless, he's ugly, he's a horrible friend and boyfriend, he's not worth anything. In his panic, he climbs off of his chair and tosses the letters into the trash as he hurries out of the choir room. He leans against the rows of lockers, glad that he's wearing his large hoodie with the hood up as he hears the members of the Glee club go into the choir room. He hugs his arms to himself as he listens to them laugh and talk amongst themselves, and then he hears someone hush all of them.
“Guys, Kurt was here,” they say. “Look, he read our letters, but...”
“But what?” He hears Santana bark.
“They were in the trash.”
And then he moves. He moves down the hall, away from the people he thinks might still be his friends, but he doesn't know if they are. But if they aren't then -
Then...
Not whatever...
It can't be whatever, because they mean something to him - he cares for them, which is why he thinks they'll be better off. They'll all be better off...
He ends up going home, dropping his bag on the couch as he wanders past the living room and into the kitchen. He has a headache and just wants to sleep, but all he does is sleep and he just doesn't want to do it anymore. He feels done.
He opens up the medicine cabinet that they have in the kitchen and searches through it. Instead of the pain medication he's searching for, he finds Carole's sleeping pills, the ones she'd been told to take by her doctor because she'd been working so many grave yard shifts. He pulls the bottle out and shakes it. There's quite a few pills in there, he notices.
She won't be able to tell if I take a few, he tells himself as he opens the bottle and taps six pills out into his hand. He puts the cap on the bottle, places it back on its spot, and then pops two pills. He hesitates with the third one, because he hasn't left letters, hasn't said goodbye, but then he remembers that they wouldn't care - they'll be happier without him.
For some reason, the fourth one takes longer to swallow than the third one, and in that time, he thinks of his dad, of his smile, his laughter, how he calls Kurt my boy; he thinks of Carole at hers and his father's wedding, saying she'd gotten a friend as well as another son; he thinks of Finn, who is large, clumsy, and the first boy to sort of treat him okay. And then he thinks of Blaine, beautiful Blaine, who once loved him with everything that he had.
And then he's leaning over the sink, shoving his fingers down his throat - the pills come back up and he gags as they clatter into the sink. He dry heaves for a few moments, staring down at those four little pills, just sitting there, like they didn't have the power to take his life. Gripping the edge of the sink, he turns on the faucet and watches as the pills are washed down the drain. Once they are all gone and the sink is washed, he heads up to his room, brushes his teeth for ten minutes, then climbs into bed, shaking, but somewhat alive.
~*~
He goes to school the next day, still shaken by what had happened with the pills. He doesn't talk to anyone who says hi to him, barely responds to the half attempt at a hug that Blaine gives him, and walks past his first class. He doesn't know what Ms. Pillsbury will be able to do for him, but she's a councilor and should be able to help, he says to himself.
Right?
She sitting there, in a bright yellow dress, eating a grape when he knocks on her door. She glances up, a smile on her face. “Hello, Kurt. How can I help you?”
He hesitates for a moment, but then remembers the pills, the knife, and how scared he'd felt; he walks in and sits down in the chair in front of her desk. “I... I think I need help,” he says, his voice breaking on the last word.
Instantly her smile drops. “Kurt?” she asks, a hint of confusion in her voice.
“The other night I tried to commit suicide.”
And then everything becomes serious. She gets up from her chair and walks over to him, reaching forward to grab his shoulder, but then pull back. “Do you, um... Do you want to talk to me alone, or would you like someone else in here with you, someone that you trust? I've read that in cases it can help if you... uh... W-would you like me to call a teacher in, or-or Blaine?”
He shakes his head, but reaches out and grabs her hand. “Not... not Blaine. But you can call Mr. Schue in if you want...”
She nods, squeezes his hand, and then sends out a page for Mr. Schue to come to her office; the entire time, she holds his hand in a death grip, one that promises that she won't let him go - and for once, out of all of the times he's been held in some way that promised that he wouldn't be let go, he believes it.
Mr. Schue comes in five minutes later. “What is it, Emma? I'm in the middle of a-” he pauses once he sees Kurt, sees the death grip that Kurt has on Ms. Pillsbury's hand, the way he's shaking from trying to hold the tears in. “Kurt? Kurt, what is it?”
He pulls up a chair and places a hand on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt inhales. “I tried to commit suicide yesterday.”
He spends two hours in there, holding both of their hands as he tells them about the past month, about how he's felt, what he's thought; he tells them about the knife, goes into more details about the pills, about how he thinks his friends don't care and that his family would be better off without him - how sad and tired and done.
Ms. Pillsbury tells him about depression, but she doesn't hand him one of her pamphlets. “Have you told your dad,” she asks once he's stopped crying. He shakes his head, and then he feels both of them stand up. “Kurt, will you stay here while we go have Figgins call your father? He really needs to be here, okay?”
He nods, hears them leave, and then sits there.
Two seconds later, he's out of the room, moving down the hall and dodging the few students that are in the halls, ignoring the call of “Kurt!” as he heads towards the door to the outside. I shouldn't have told them, he thinks in a panic. They'll tell my dad, and then he'll know, and then he'll tell me how much of a failure that I am and then I'll really know and-
He blanks out for a moment, not really knowing where he's going.
He finds himself underneath the stairs in the outside courtyard when he comes back to himself, curled up on the ground, his arms around his knees, leaning against the fence. He breathes in and out, trying to find some sense of normality that seems to be constantly escaping him. He doesn't know how long he stays there, but eventually he becomes aware that someone else is sitting next to him. He lifts his head and looks up and to the right, slightly shocked that Blaine is the one next to him.
“Kurt?” his boyfriend (is he still my boyfriend) asks, and it's the way that Blaine's voice cracks that makes Kurt sit up straight. “Sweetheart... what's wrong?”
Kurt shrugs. “What do you mean?” he asks, trying to come off as okay, because if Blaine finds out, then everyone else will find out, and then no one will want him anymore.
Blaine lifts his left arm and drapes it over Kurt's shoulders. “You haven't... You haven't been acting like yourself lately, and - ” Blaine draws off. “And at first everyone thought we should just leave you alone, see if everything would be okay eventually, but then you started not going to glee, not showing up at to our coffee dates - then you weren't coming to school or answering phone calls or text messages and god, Kurt! I was so scared. But then Finn said that you'd come down with the flu and I was relieved, but...” Blaine cuts off again and tightens his grip around Kurt's shoulders. “Can I... I really need to kiss you right now,” he says as he leans forward and presses four kisses to Kurt's lips. He pulls away, crushes Kurt to his chest and continues, “but then Finn found your NYADA acceptance letter in the trash and I just knew that something was wrong. Please,” Blaine says, his voice cracking, and Kurt's heart aches. “Please just let me know what's going on, okay? Please.”
And so Kurt tells him, because Blaine asked (and he's really surprised at how easily it all comes out because someone asked); he tells him about how he woke up one day and wondered why, about how he thought he was useless, pathetic, and not worth anyone's time; he tells Blaine about how nothing in life seems to have any worth anymore.
And he tells Blaine about what happened with the knife.
He doesn't tell Blaine about the pills.
Blaine doesn't talk, but Kurt reads his face and can see the way that Blaine just wants to bottle him up - Blaine wears his emotions openly, doesn't try to hold things back, but usually his emotions are caring. Right now, Blaine just looks pained.
Kurt sighs. “I'm sorry,” he says, trying to pull out of Blaine's grasp. “I just dumped that on you, and you don't need it and-”
Blaine doesn't give him a chance to pull away fully; he brings Kurt back into the bear hug, pressing his lips over whatever skin he can reach on Kurt's face. “You didn't dump it on me. I asked what was wrong and you answered, but... Honey, why did you not tell me sooner?”
Kurt shrugged. “Because... I guess I didn't want to admit that I was so sad, and for no reason. I just... I just don't get it, Blaine, because I should be happy!”
Blaine shakes his head. “Kurt, it's not that easy. Depression... it's a chemical imbalance in your brain and - sometimes there's no explanation for why you get sad. You just do.”
Kurt nods, because at the moment he's too tired to do anything else. He debates just falling asleep in Blaine's arms, but then he remembers his dad and moves to stand up. “I - I talked to Ms. Pillsbury and Mr. Schue earlier and they said they'd call my dad, but then I got scared and ran out here and-”
Blaine stands up and pulls him back into a hug, pressing a few kisses to Kurt's head. “I'll bring you back there, okay.”
Kurt nods, and together they make their way into the school. His dad is standing in front of Ms. Pillsbury's office door, a hand running over the top of his head. Mr. Schue is talking to him, and Ms. Pillsbury is biting at her lip. Kurt shrinks back, but Blaine tightens his grip on Kurt's waist as they move forward. “It's okay,” he whispers to him. “It'll all be okay, baby, it will... I won't leave you, okay?”
Once Kurt nods, Blaine plants a kiss to the tops of his head, then calls out, “Mr. Hummel?”
His father's head shoots up, his gaze zeroing in on Kurt. He takes seven large steps towards them, then reaches out and pulls Kurt from Blaine's grasp and into a tight hug. “Kurt,” his dad says, and that's all he needs to say for Kurt to start sobbing, repeating I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, over and over again because that's all he can say right now.
His dad shakes his head, says there's nothing to be sorry for, and lets Kurt cry.
Eventually, all five of them (Kurt refusing to let go of Blaine's hand), end up back in Ms. Pillsbury's office. There's talk of therapists, medication, and taking time off from school. Kurt just nods to everything, wondering if things would be okay. Blaine squeezes his hand, gives him a smile, and Kurt nods at him.
Maybe, he thinks later after Blaine tells him that he'd invited the Warblers to the coffee shop because he'd had something to discuss with them (and that Sebastian had gotten an earful for putting his hand on Blaine's back). Maybe it'll be okay.
What if it's not, his mind counters as he listens to Blaine tell him that the reason that his friends had left him out of the texting loop was because they'd been planning a surprise birthday party for him and they were scared they'd accidentally send him information about the party. What if things don't change, what if they're just humoring you so they don't have to pay for a funeral - those are expensive, you know.
But then Blaine kisses him before he leaves, long and passionate - tells Kurt that he's in love with him, and that he'll be by later, because he'd gotten permission from his mother and from Burt to spend the night; to spend as many nights as needed. “You're beautiful, Kurt,” Blaine tells him. “You're amazing, you're my strength... I'll be yours too. Don't give up - because your life, your everything - it's worth it.”
Kurt nods and snuggles into their hug, thinking things over.
Maybe things will be okay.
four months later
“Hello, Kurt,” Charlie, his therapists says as Kurt gives him a wave. He watches Kurt move into the room they'll being having their first group sessions in, then turns to Kurt's father. “He's better,” he states.
Burt frowns. “How do you know from just seeing him?” he asks, but there's a hint of a smile there that Charlie sees.
“Because you can see it on his face.”
Burt lets the grin come out. “Yeah, you can. He actually cooked breakfast for me this week.”
It's taken four months - four months that involved more thoughts of suicide, discovering that Kurt's medical dosage was never bumped up like it was supposed to, trying to find the right medication, and love; lots and lots of love. But now, Kurt is where he is, and he's happy.
Kurt sits down on one of the chairs, looking out the window as the other members of the group session all file in. For the first time that day, he lets a true smile appear on his face. He's happy. He's going to NYADA, he's got a loving boyfriend (who is taking classes on line as well in the classroom so that he can graduate in January and move to New York faster), and he's got his whole life ahead of him.
He still gets setbacks, days where he's sad, but he hasn't felt like he did four months ago. He feels free.
Eventually Charlie walks in with two other therapists and the group session goes around, introducing themselves and telling why they're in the group. Kurt's second to last, but he waits patiently until it's his turn. When it is his turn, he sits up and crosses his legs.
“Hi, my name is Kurt Hummel, and I'm here because I was diagnosed with clinical depression. I've been in therapy for four months now, and on the correct medication for three.”
Charlie gives him a smile. “And how are you feeling today, Mr. Hummel? How do you feel about today?”
Kurt glances down at his hands, really thinking and feeling the question.
De - pres - sion:
Severe despondency and dejection, accompanied by feelings of hopelessness and inadequacy.
A condition of mental disturbance, typically with lack of energy and difficulty in maintaining concentration or interest in life.
He looks back up at the group, then smiles an honest smile. “I'm fantastic; I woke up breathing, so it's a good day.”
end
Author's notes: This was me.
My therapist told me that since I like to write so much, maybe writing out what happened to me would help me move on - he was right.
For the longest time I tried to convince myself that I didn't have depression, that I was just tired or... now I don't even remember my own excuses, but I didn't fully let myself believe it until I did what Kurt did in this story.
Depression is scary - it tilts everything on the side, and it's even scarier when you know that you have it, and you're trying to stop it, but nothing seems to be working. It was the worst time of my life; and then I got the help that I needed. Now, I'm happy, and I can see the joy in the small things again. If there are any people out there that read this and are suffering from depression, or are sad and need someone to talk to, feel free to send me a message.
Every single one of you are beautiful - and even though I haven't met you or I haven't talked to you, know that I love you. :)