Personal Narrative: The World's Perception Of Depression

“Stress is like depression, only it has yet to be categorized as a disease.” – Doctor Walter.

I figured I had a minute, probably less. I strained to hear even the slightest sound of music inside without success. No blaring television or creaking floorboards, just the constant sound of my wary heart beat. I was certain the life I had chosen was happiness, the perfect life, or so I believed. Until I felt nothingness and realized that this world’s perception of happiness is wrong.

Momentarily, my face turned an opaque yellow, lines marked the folds of fat I used to have. My lips, trailed with ulcers, the inside walls of my cheeks chewed white to the skin. Cubicles bit to their last layer, hair hopelessly matted. I was basically a monumental
It released steam. Otherwise, ‘began the teenage phase’. Rebellion, recklessness, stupidity. Or could it simply be the next change in history? That instance was a signal of new life, a new formation, an island to be. In time, it may grow to become a small crumb of land amongst the others. No flora or fauna yet to celebrate the arrival. Perhaps some odd and unknown creature occasionally suspected success in the escaping steam and swooped down to inspect it; more likely though, this future island were born in agitated waves, emptiness and crude cold. Then, after an extent of time so great it becomes meaningless, only the ocean knew an island was progressing. As no land has yet peaked through the surface, it is now a long forgotten possibility. This is when the island dies, or creates a beautiful
This tremendous idea that stress is a disease. Parallel to every person's false sense of hope is that which actually asks something of you. The type of hope which makes an ordinary person a warrior. Someone strong, not a quitter, but someone resilient, with a strong willed character. ‘Diseases’ like these are 60% in the mind and 40% believed by you.

Your first mistake was judging this image, making false, radical assumptions toward the black tears and upside down smile. It was believing such a disease exists.

Real happiness is when ice crystals sparkle as they reflect on the sun, forming a carpet of twinkling stars as the snow settles on the highest peak of the mountain. It is going through memorised motions in confidence. The moment passion captivates all the cells in the body, leaving only what we all know best, our instincts. So once the lights are drawn, and we have reached our weakest moment, there is nothing but hope. Hope that your idea will work. Real happiness is overcoming this temptation to quit.

I was becoming increasingly aware of the nightmares suffocating my dreams and seemed stuck on repeat. They sucked me in so deeply that I could never seem to get out of them until I woke in the morning.