An answer to What Depression Feels Like

Well to answer a friend at HubPages question, here is an excerpt of a short story I wrote, which may answer your question. It reflects an experience of mine with depression. I have a diagnosis of bipolar disorder, which entails both depression and mania. I do well with medication, therapy, and focus. I write for therapeutic reasons and hope to share more soon. As it turns out this is my first Article at HubPages, (smile).

"Like the clamor of the ancient Thor’s mighty hammer the thunder of revelation struck downward and hard upon my head. When closing my eyes truth flashed jagged streaks appearing like lightning from an angry heaven. Pulsing like a raging, torrid, sweltering river climbing defenseless banks of luscious green grass, myriads of flowers and ancient trees nearby my blood boiled deeply behind my eyes. My thoughts were frenzied dashing from here to there seeking refuge from the storm’s wrath. The new, familiar sights of my home held captive and bound by my closed eyes kept peace and reality absent in obscurity.

Then haunting ghosts of the past crammed their essence hard against my remaining reason. Eternity now seemed like a sentence from life in a prison of lacking emotions gone awry, floundering in crashing, and plummeting waves of a treacherous sea. Shoved quickly and forcefully beneath its stormy exterior my breaths deepen echoing from the walls stifling my ears with the certainty of the conviction of truth. So severe the pain of my head I could not even cry seeking the solitude of tears for healing. Held hard and strongly the ferociousness of fear seared my mind of another’s hurt with the act of senseless, folly and prose. My body withered like crumpled pages of papyrus smoldering on a lit flame, then erupted fervently dispelling the iniquity of my folly in furious flames. Hard onto the ground I fell as the burning storm lifted swiftly from my curled body now lay in the putrid smell of past wrong deeds. Confusion surrounded thoughts of guilt of the actions my ill fell upon others.

Entering a realm of sleep not entered before I was unfamiliar with this emptiness, which poured into another void, and another and another still until eight had passed. Realizing I sensed not with mind, which was with my body, I knew this was a subconscious state of wisdom. I believed this since I had learned them from Nitas and Amran, and my Master of late. Oddly, now, my home appeared around me painted with new undecipherable knowledge in a language foreign to me.

Now, undisturbed without haunting I looked about to discover if I was in my bed covered in rose pedals upon black sheets of silk. As I laughed hard and loud feeling its softness, I pondered. Looking to the left I saw the flicker of fading, melting candles. Reaching toward an end the candles to my right had extinguished long ago. I still laughed until tears of an altered nature filled my eyes. Above me the canopy surely must have held something delightful from the night. Looking with intent and wonderment the sun slowly crept passed bringing its warmth on distant tranquil shore. Sitting upward I saw the dance of the fairies of my imagination spring to life. I smiled and laughed and laughed and laughed once more. Laying my head back down in the clouds something entered my mind or was it my heart or my soul.

Confused from the previous day’s adventure of sadness and joy, an evening of great teaching in wisdom, a night of impoverished terror, then finally a morning of newness filled with uncertainty I soon felt the queerness of a fleeting dream. I questioned it because of the nightmare filled full with fear and the great sickness, which crushed me callously to the ground. Where did it come from and why only a glimpse of it? Its power is so immense it cannot be measured. Its clarity so divine in nature its influence holds strongly, yet surrenders autonomy. And it is so familiar. I know it well. It is neither an enemy nor an ally. It cannot be held yet is always present. It comes in many forms and some say many types. Contemplating for a moment I realize there are many in this dream. Some are angels of men, some are angels of women, and some are just angels, then there are those special angels, yet I was familiar with their hierarchy. But, my soul whispers silently to me of four. I don’t have the knowledge of understanding, yet passionately in both fear and joy I give reverence to these entities.

Suddenly shaking hard the door trembled from a knock outside. Hearing voices familiar of a past time I slowly opened the door, which was suddenly and quickly thrust hard upon my chest now resonating with a new fear. Having not seen these uniforms in many ages I was baffled. “OG, are you OG?” resounded harshly the one standing farthest from me. Slowly rising upward, I was overtaken by six sturdy hands supported by stalwart arms of youth. “Yeah! Yeah! Yeah,” I stammered. “OG,” the older soldier said, “you are hereby ordered under escort to appear before the court of the Seventh Realm. You may not take any possessions, you may not have contact with any entity past, present or future. You will be given a counselor upon arrival. You are to take these tablets to prepare your journey.” Reaching outward I not only sensed, but saw my surety of self now tremble in abandonment."

I have written five chapters to this short story. My hope is to complete it one day. It will be part of a book titled Sojourner: A Trilogy of Short Stories (Science Fiction / Fantasy)

Story 1) Distant Planets, Knowledge & Wisdom

Story 2) Order of the Sword

Story 3) Journeys, Dimensions, Time

It is part of the first story. Seeking to share my experiences with amnesia with its consequences and bipolar disorder I started writing. It is hit and miss most of the time, but I find writing to be fun and therapeutic.

Thank you for allowing me to share this and for your time reading it. Remember to smile and have fun, fun, fun, , ,

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