Depression

Depression: A Short continuous story

Chilly. My eyes flicked open. The dark and light was overwhelming. I stood up and brushed myself down. Took a deep a breath and stepped out from the dark, twisted trees and into the strong burst of sunlight further up the path.
Today was a new day, and I was determined to make the most of it.

The darkness from the shade of the trees was in my eyeline. I felt myself going towards it, despite not wanting to. I had an objective: to get to the end of this twisted path with its knarled roots on the ground, ready to trip me up with every step.

The constant stream of bugs flying around and into my face, attempting to distract me. Worst of all was the sludge covering my body, making it heavy and slow. My body ached with every step, my eyes were partially covered so I couldn’t focus and each step took all my effort. But onwards I went.

I attempted to stay in the sunshine as it aided my vision, but with the roots, I would trip up again and again. I knew I needed to get out of the path, but it was the most difficult path I had been on.

I tried to hum a tune to keep me motivated, but it came out off key.The world seemed to be fighting my every step. All I wanted to do was curl up into a ball in the darkness, to keep myself warm and forget this journey.

It was too tricky, and at times the light was not visible. What was the point? The path stretched on and on. I lay down for a little while, my body worn.

Just a little rest then onwards. My eyes closed easily, and the rest seemed to be regenerating my aching limbs.

It was just so… Repeat.

By Charlotte Swinscoe.

Charlotte is twenty-two years old, and currently working towards a degree in English Literature.
Charlotte, like many others, fights the same battle every day, day in, day out. She has attempted to put these complex feelings into words and explain her daily story, in the hopes to reach others who feel alone in this journey and to enlighten others as to what she faces.

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