D for Depression

Depression (noun)- Feelings of severe dejection.

The first time, it knocked at my door, I couldn’t resist,
That was the charm of this being.
The second time it called out my name, though I was with my friends,
Yet I couldn’t avoid its voice. 
The next morning I woke up, only to find it at my bedside, 
And I couldn’t ask it to leave.

I didn’t ask for this. 
I didn’t decide to wake up one day telling myself, that I want to feel anxious today.
I didn’t decide to wake up one day telling myself, that I want to tear my life apart. 
I didn’t choose this. It happened. 
Piece by piece.
And peace by peace.

All the things that went wrong in the past,
They came rushing back to me.
I called up everyone who cared about me.
I told them how I’m losing control over my emotions.
From laughing hysterically to crying my eyes out, I felt devastated. 
It became so overwhelming, that I lost track of everything around me.

With them, the questions never stopped.
Why don’t you cheer up?
What are you worried about?
At this age what sort of stress are you dealing with?
Why do you keep crawling back into this hole?
Is it because it seems way too familiar ?

And nor did the statements.
It’s all in your head.
It’s just a phase.
You can change how you feel about things.
You don’t have to feel anxious if you don’t want to. 
Take a chill pill dude.

I was a mess. A chaotic mess.
It was the only calm in the storm my life had become.
We had a strange and eerie understanding where,
Neither did I push it away nor did it pull me closer.
We had marked an unspoken boundary around us,
Where we were comfortable around each other.

That’s when it lost control. 
It became too obsessive.
Whatever I did, wherever I was 
I’d find it staring back into my eyes.
I tried hiding.
I tried escaping.

But there it was, 
Whispering my name,
Again and again.
Like a broken cassette, 
Stuck on one beat.
That’s when I started writing.

When it knocked at my door the next morning, I didn’t answer. 
While I was in the metro, writing about it, 
A man hushed in my ear, “You too?”
I looked at him and asked what did he mean.
He went on to tell me how one day it knocked on his door,
And how his life had changed ever since.

Like long lost lovers we sat down to share our grief with one another. 
Another man joined in and then a woman,
Then another and another.
As the sky burned into a bright orange flame, so did our union.
The louder our voices grew,
The quieter those whispers became.

When a person asked us how were we fighting this battle for so long,
We laughed and told him to look around.
Do you see people walking with
Headphones plugged into their ears and eyes set on their phones?
We are more similar than we believe to be.
We turn the music so loud that it curbs the whispers around.

We looked at each other.
Isn’t that how we fight our battles?
In solace and in silence. 
We grow up to believe, that everyone else is leading a better life.
We grow up to believe, that we’re alone in this. 
Well here’s a newsflash, you’re not.

There are people around you who are fighting the same battles every day.
The only way to fight this battle,
Is by talking about it.
Depression thrives in silence, and the only way to win this battle,
Is by asking for help.
That’s what I did.

 © अपूर्वा बोरा

This Post Has 2 Comments

  1. This gave me chills.

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