Depression Doesn’t Care

I woke up today and thought about all the things that I wanted to get done. I will get up, I will take my kids to school, I will take a shower and I will work on my writings. I will do something productive. Hopefully I can even get some cleaning done.

But depression doesn’t care about what I want. Depression doesn’t care about my responsibilities. Depression says “get back in bed with me, it’s so comfortable.” I lie down after dropping the kids off at school. “Maybe just for an hour” I think to myself. I’m tired and my body is so heavy. I will take a small nap in hopes that I get some energy back so that I can get things done. Three hours pass by before I wake.

Now I am disappointed in myself that I didn’t wake up sooner. Alarms never help. Depression is in bed with me still. “You’re still here?” I mutter. I need to get up. I have to get out of bed. Depression wraps tighter around me. Depression says “doesn’t this feel good though? You don’t have to move at all. You’re just going to sit around anyway so you might as well stay here with me. Sink further into the bed. Pull the covers up and I’ll tuck you in.

Eyes open, staring at the ceiling. I want to get up but I can’t move. I do not want to be here. I am fighting with myself. Get up. get up. get up. No it will be okay, I can do it all tomorrow. I know, deep down though, that when tomorrow comes I still will not get anything done. Because I am useless. Because I never do anything. Because I never follow through with anything that I start. Because I am a worthless person. I deserve to be held in the arms of depression. Everyone would be better off if I weren’t even alive. “Okay” I say as I stop resisting and fall back to sleep.

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