Depression

Have you ever felt like you just can't catch a good, deep breath?
Like your head is full of fog?
Like ideas are just out of your reach?
Memories, information you need is there but you simply can't retrieve it.
You just don't care, about anything.
You want to care. You know, somewhere inside of you, there is a you who cares. Or used to. Who knows it's important to care what your children, your partner, your friends think and feel. But though you know that person is there, you can't unbury her. She's so deep and you are so tired.
Eating is a challenge because nothing is appealing. Especially nothing that takes an effort. And you know, you know the junk food is not going to fill some void, but it's easier. Crackers, chips, cookies, cereal. Dry cereal. They take little effort. There's no peeling, no chopping, no cooking. Just reaching into the bag and mindlessly shoving the food into your mouth because you know you have to eat. But you just don't care.
Going out, seeing people, is draining -- just to think about,
yet you crave some kind of connection to your soul.
Tears are always there, hovering near the surface but not spilling over to offer some release. And the slightest embarrassment rolls around in your brain for days, poking, hurting, making you wonder why people are so thoughtless.
A tickling anxiety is ever present. It weighs down your limbs and yet makes you feel like you're coming out of your skin. Your heart stutters. Your stomach releases adrenaline for no apparent reason.
You don't want to die. That would take an effort you aren't able to put forth. But if you did die, it would be ok.
It's not a sadness. There isn't a good reason for it. It doesn't even hurt, not the way real suffering hurts. Not the piercing anguish that comes from true sorrow.
No, these feelings are the subtle, eroding qualities of depression.
Every one of them, at once. Weighing you down like a car filling with water as it drifts to the bottom of the river.