Depression ...
Did you feel depressed sometimes from the very morning?
Me too ....
I know that sounds very strange, but there are such days. All of my expectation is that I will always be biting, good will and full energy, but honestly to tell you. Sometimes I pretend that everything is fine and that the whole world is pink. Obviously over the years I have become so used to seeing me all positive and vivid because they have taught me and used to me in such a form. It's all just a mask.
Sometimes I wake up so depressing. Why ? I do not know either alone.
I just feel like I'm not good enough, I have not fulfilled my life as I wanted, not something that went out of hand last night. Every mistake touches me, let me think about it and kill me even more. Kills the concept and the brain. Why do I do this? I always ask one the same and the answer is always the same. Because I can not hide my feelings. When someone sees me cry, it's strange to me. Why ? Because everyone is used to seeing me cheerful and obviously they do not think that I too "cheerful" can cry, have feelings and simply break. The worst of all this is the night. Oh, peace, silence around me but in the head of the noise. Thoughts and words themselves contradict, contradict, complement, and debunk.
When morning starts depressing, the only thing I want is peace. Less communication with people, the outside world, and any response to stupid and unnecessary questions. Simply then I do not have the will for anything and for a lifetime. I'm not in the mood for any gatherings, exits, big gatherings of people. Most likely, she would stay in the apartment in her four walls looking at a series of repetitions and only "resting the brain". Here, but of course it is impossible.
And somehow I finally got up from bed, fake a fake mask and smile and pretended to be all right and that I was dancing on that day and how the morning started with the twitter of birds and the smell of roses. Bulls ** t. Simply, but what's worst of all, I started playing so well that every morning I smile with a smile that nobody understands how much it is all but a mask and a big lie.
I sometimes console myself. If I succeed in persuading so many people to believe that in my life they only bloom roses, I can obviously deny myself that I am not so depressed. But a man can not lie to himself, and with the knowledge that a good actor is still sordid in some depression.
In a word, depression is a vicious cycle of hell out of which it is difficult to extract. Sometimes I remember my literary professors and the Inferno books-where they describe the seven circles of hell.
The sinners are placed inside the fever by the severity of sin: the least sinful are at the top, and the most sinful at the bottom. Every punishment in one of the circles of hell is twofold: the sinner is punished spiritually and physically. The greatest spiritual punishment is the impossibility of seeing God and receiving his grace, and the other (less) spiritual punishment is the anxiety of the soul and feelings of eternal suffering. The corporal punishment is specifically described and their weight depends on the size of sin. Nevertheless, all corporal punishment is common to cause pain, suffering, and eternal persecution for the sane life.
So each circle of hell is worse than the previous one, so depression. Every situation is worse than the previous one, and man because of the influence of society and his mental condition just pushes into an even greater circle of the same.
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