Depression, we heard this many times. We've been there many times. This is the words which cut through our hearts and meet the sad section in our minds.
Depression is a feeling of pain. Sadness and depression, both are not of the same category. Depression is something takes us to the town of pain. Am saying pain because only a person who is suffering can feel it. It can't be seen by others.
I was there before, in that mire, so drowned and wounded.Losing all the hope and lack of communication with the reality. I comforted myself with the fantasies, but they are only a temporary relief.
Here is a writing that depicts the true pain of a lonely heart.
All were there, nobody else has answered his (Mr. P's) call.
There is Mr V, whom he helped more than anyone.
V said he can't talk.
V was busy in his job, that job is a gift of Mr. P
He called Mr D, D ignored and
rejected the call.
Then, Mr.P made another call to Miss.R, who is his close friend, whom he respects much and secretly loves her.
Mr.P never made an attempt to propose Miss.R.
He is scared of being rejected.
Miss.R answered the call, listened to
Mr.P's pain patiently.
This gave him hope.
Later, he continued to share more pain and ease the stone in his heart.
Miss.R said she will call him back.
Mr.P knows very well,
She won't call again.
All calls were made, to the close and
to the far.
But, no result.
None of them answered him what his heart is willing to hear from them.
He thought at least one of them would've lifted the call, stay with him in the air.
He helped all of them,
Spend his day and night in assisting them.
When they are alone, he was there.
Now he is alone nobody there.
He took a pen and paper.
Tried to write what his heart is trying to say.
No, that was a failed attempt.
His hands are shaking, his sight has blurred.
It seemed nothing in the world is going well with him.
It appeared to him that everyone and everything are his foes.
Even his heartbeat scaring him.
That loneliness, that silence is killing him inside,
all he can hear is the sound of his heartbeat and his watch's seconds handle tik-tik sound.
He loves writing, what can he do?
He prayed with trembling lips.
His words are unclear, but God knows what he is saying.
There was a silence for a couple of hours.
And then…
His hands began to move on the paper.
With all the force and strength.
He is able to write now by supporting his hand which is writing with the other hand.
He could only write these lines
Dear ‘Me’,
I don't know what I am. Am a loner, gone to a place where my heart hurts. No comfort is seen anywhere.
I don't deserve this, for I felt a moment that all in the world are my friends and dear ones. I've made my attempts to reach them. The world was and is never a friend to me, it's a place for dealing with depression and loneliness.
I've to comfort myself. I can see those stars shining in the sky, they are strong together, but they are apart by million light years. When am hurt much, nobody came to my aid. I had to fight all alone by myself. I was not selfish, neither I am now. My life is a perfect example of suffering.
After writing these lines, Mr. P rested there for a while.
He decided to give up the idea of ‘giving up'.
He realized his purpose of life, he moved on to take the handof another person who is in need of help.
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