Personify Your Depression: If my depression were a person... [fill in the blank]

it would be the part of me that believes the worst in others and in myself, and tells me that only the bad things i hear are the true ones

If my depression was a person, she would be a stalker who crashes my life without warning.

My depression isn't a person is a dark presence, I can feel it, the weight of it, the way it clings to my very essence, it chokes out my fire but I can't actually see it until it's too late and it has overcome me. It pins me down stops me from running for help, it covers my mouth and stops my cries. All the while it whispers that I'm no one, I'm not enough and that I don't deserve to be. It wants to overtake my soul and is waiting for the day I just give into it.

If my depression were a person, they'd be a wallflower, sitting and watching, taking everything in, not saying much, just observing. Then they'd see something that would set alarm bells ringing- being an observer, they wouldn't miss a tiny detail which could cause so much pain if latched onto, i think they would even seek out these tiny details on purpose to see how far they could push me. You see wallflowers can be the most dangerous- they go unnoticed by so many for so long, they're a constant, they blend in, that if they use their tiny voice often enough it can be misconstrued as an internal voice rather than an outsider trying to worm their way in. This wallflower would be toxic, unrelenting, persisting until i see the world in the same way that it does, consuming me until i almost become the wallflower; disconnected, withdrawn, unseen.

Dee-Dee sits in the corner, wearing a blanket covering herself all the way up to the neck. Her hair is chucked up, dry shampoo has been used for the 2nd day running.

On the table by the sofa are so many half empty mugs Dee-Dee has lost count. Theres a teaspoon stuck to the glass next to a plate. A few crumbs show it had a sandwich on it earlier.

Dee-Dee yawns, even though she's not moved since the last time she put the kettle on. Before she rolls over for another nap, she shouts out to me as I open the door to head off.

"Remember you've got x, y and z to do!"

She shouts.

"Oh, and try not to **** it up!"

Dee-Dee smirks, before snuggling back down on the sofa. Netflix asks if she's still watching.

This might not make sense but if my depression were a person it would be a selfish ninja, because they wear masks hiding themselves just like my depression. But also because it hides in the dark barely seen until it acts, and hurts more than ever. Just like stealthy ninjas. But most of all I said SELFISH ninja because my depression is open to those around me, and craves attention.

It would be the weird "friend", who says things like "oh of course you couldn't do it, it's you, it's fine, it was obvious from the start" and then sits with me and acts like a friend, but everything it says is in the tone of "you think you are good, you actually suck, but look, I'm here with you, I will always remember to remind you". But I can't get rid of it. Cause it's like it feeds on reminding me how useless I am.

Sorry if it's too weird, it just popped up in my head...

An assassin

A 30-foot tall Eldritch horror, with glistening purple flesh, at least a thousand eyes, and tentacles jutting from its mouth and hands that drip black fluid from needle-like protrusions. It wears a red 2-piece velvet suit, and smells like burnt hair. It latches onto the back of your head and stays there forever like an inter-dimensional tick. It exists in all periods of history simultaneously and I dont know how to kill it.

My depression is an insidious thing. It is always nearby, waiting for moments of emotional weakness or duress, until it can pounce and strike when it maximizes its advantage.

It's like a blanket, wrapped around me, that keeps me from thinking more than a few minutes into the future. It dulls my senses, mutes the colours, and my flattens my enjoyment of all things

Over the course of time, it begins to erode my self confidence, which of course makes everything just a bit more difficult.

It clouds my ability to interact with people; I assume all malice and spite possible on their part..

It keeps me from wanting to do anything, other than passing time on pointless things.

It makes me ok with living in a single shitty messy room, doing nothing with my life. My level of enniu is incredible.

It makes me hate myself more and more as I watch my ex-wife continue to move on and rebuild her life in a healthy way. I don't wish her ill, it's just hard to watch her move on so easily.

It makes me unable to understand my self worth. It makes me distrustful of people who try and say otherwise.

It steals my motivation to do everything.

It makes me unhappy with so many aspects of my life that are measurably good. I am Canadian, yet I still feel like I should be somewhere else. It's not my countrymen, it's me.

I weep at least a dozen times a day (difficult to hide for a grown man).

I miss people, but I have no friends. I want to date, but since I married so young I have no idea how. Other adults with 15 years of various experience intimidate me. I just had the one person my whole life. It's so strange to think about this.

Dealing with the aftermath of a divorce is always rough. You will spend years cleaning up all the odd bits. It feels like a slug to the gut each time these issues are reopned. It's stressful here since they never fully *close*.

Anyways... I am just starting to rant so I will stop. Hope you all have a great day!