depression feels like a cleanser, a type of bleach, erasing everything in it’s path. it’s hard to describe because everyday, i feel the same, yet different. it had washed the last bit of passion in me, love, creativity…me, i’m fading away as a whole.
i’ve been trying my best, to describe all this, it’s hard to…type out a word, is this the normality or am i just fucked up?i don’t know, i don’t know, i don’t know. i don’t feel…i don’t know how to describe it, i feel like i should be happy, or sad, or angry, so i put myself in that state yet i’m not truly anything, there’s nothing, i don’t recognize anything.
i can’t think, if that’s the way to put it, i can’t really recall my past as if they are my own. the colors, shapes, settings, they feels like some alternate utopian film, a video tape left by some time traveller, that i kept for my own. i used to feel like a slowly deflating balloon, now there’s no air, neither is there a balloon.
what to draw next, what sentence to write next, what fictional world i could put myself in. my imagination has been reduced to blank, i think i still love my family, but the color and temperature of that love is also fading, i feel nothing, i feel everything, and i’m now floating above all this trying to decide what i should name this emotion, a blur of overwhelming consciousness, the self loathing and tears mixed together and fermented and evaporated into a fog that clogs up my brain, my identity, my senses and mind. i remember having colors and shapes in my mind, can you get aphantasia if you’re not born with it? starting when?i can’t seem to form a clear image in my head anymore, i can’t form any image at all, but i used to be able to, i’m sure of it.
i don’t want my creativity or imagination or whatever to come back, i don’t want my head to clear up again, i just want out. i’ve fucked up everything to the core, it’s 21 degrees back home, and i’m here left to rot in a room filled with the evidence of my existence, to cry, to smile, to go on another day knowing i’ve died near the endless beaches, a child in that pink long sleeve with the print of a ballet dancer made of sequins and plastic rhinestones, as she sank her feet into the soft, moist sand, she would have never thought that that was the end of her life, as the sea water floods over her ankle and she poses for the camera, not knowing what’s to come.