life_patch_v1.2.dll – HOSTILE PLUG-IN

Hello, friend. “Hello, friend.” That’s lame. Maybe I should give you a name, but that’s a commitment I am not too sure about. Sh*t. It’s actually happened. I am talking to you – yes, you.

Are you having a good day? I am sure you are. They say you cannot make such assumptions just because you feel you’re having it worse than everyone else. Or do you see him, too? The crumbling darkness in the middle of the day? The consuming loneliness amidst a class of 70 and the bone-crushing strength in the local train? These few lines from a poem I wrote helps to put my thoughts into words and maybe, just maybe, you will understand.

Creaky sound when a smile comes on,

Shows how long a frown has been there,

When dusk lasts longer than one’s dawn,

Shielded faces, never seen bare

It happens when I hang out with this friend whose presence is felt only by me  And when I say “felt”, I mean it. It feels like a stagnant traffic jam on a countryside highway. Whenever he is with me, it feels like a colourful rain, in which I stand with an umbrella that filters all colours except black and white. It feels like the T.V has gone static and I’m forced to watch for days and days with my eyelids duct-taped to the forehead. The worst part is, my friend is low-key clingy, breathing down my neck every second of the day and never chooses to leave me alone.

So are you one of the pretentious people who say that one should cherish silence. But it begins to get to you eventually when you become so conscious of it that you begin to, you know, hear it. I could hear it, at every moment. Like incessant whispers that disturb your sleep. Speaking of sleep, are you getting any? I am. An unhealthy amount of it, and sometimes I’m not. I had almost forgotten what the time periods before 12 pm felt like. Accompanying this horrifying guilt of oversleeping came a close friend of this person, “Lethargy”. Lethargy likes to make my feet hurt, make me feel staying in bed. They both constitute a deadly team. Hey, it’s not my fault the amygdala of my brain is acting like a total b*tch.  It makes me wonder “What’s a more iconic duo than a sailor knot and a ceiling fan?”

Coming back to my friend, I have invited him over for dinner with mom and dad. With wet cheeks and red eyes, I introduced him to them, and I don’t think they are particularly fond of him, or his influence on me. I told dad that I’ve grown accustomed to his company, and I’d rather spend all day with him in my room than attend my classes or do my chores. But dad doesn’t seem to understand the need for me to be in my room with him and intentionally screw up my attendance. I don’t think anyone understands. But at least I tried, right? Mom and dad were trying hard to be empathetic. They kept telling me how being with him doesn’t make me weak or any less capable, and it’s actually quite the opposite. They decided to take me to this doctor, who is apparently a professional in dealing with such relationships. Speaking of relationships, you must be wondering who ‘He’ is. God? Pfft, that’s for hopeful people and I’m not one of them. He is your friendly neighbourhood ‘clinical depression’.

Article by Mr Robot and Pablo Escobar

DISCLAIMER: Clinical Depression is a very serious concern and should be treated as such. This article hopes to shed light on the emotional state of a person going through depression. SPark does not intend to make fun of or joke about depression or anyone going through it. And to all those who feel as if they are trapped in darkness, remember you are not alone.