Depression is not all  about the blacks and the darks. Not confined within the cuts of open wrists or the popping of tranquilizers.

It is being surrounded by plethora of colours. It’s the empty willingness to catch them in your fists and see them radiate through your skin.
It’s the fight against each cell of your body to open the clenched palms. It’s the half-hearted struggle to empty them out and fill them with hope, assurance and peace.

Struggling. Fighting. Stumbling.

You hold your hands out only to have them barren once again.
As your hands, slowly, droop by your sides. You look around to see everyone, effortlessly, embraced in hues of love, life and luck.

In that moment, every ounce of will is burnt and heart is once again filled with ashes of charred desires and dreams.

Depression is the battle against one’s own self  to survive. The fight to keep breathing even though all you get to inhale is poisonous and polluted air.

(But, my depressed soul, don’t you worry, one day a phoenix of hope and faith shall rise from the ashes within.)


8 thoughts on “Depression.

  1. That is some very poignant wordplay you have invoked, Miss Maqsood. A close friend has fought and lived to tell the depression tale. And though not depressed, have been fighting some crazy stormy waves myself these past couple of months and am tired. So, here’s to peace all around. Thanks for sharing.

    • Thank you for reading, GM. πŸ™‚
      It’s okay GM, inshaAllah you will hit the shores safely soon. Also I believe, no matter what you go through in have the strength in you to combat it. If He pushes you in the battleground, He also makes sure you are well armoured.
      Stay blessed!

  2. Depression is really not about dark, it is about thousands of un-named colors sparkling through transparent slate of minds.You are right my love, depression is not to be depressed over !

  3. Depression: When impression of all forms of life, seem to be disappeared from a life-with in. But can it be perpetual? How would you call something alive, if that happens??
    If meaning of life is to live, rather than survive only, then this must be true as well, that meaning of depression is to find what’s missing in you and then fill it… to fill the void by opening all windows and letting air in. In spite of our preconception void is something that can’t be filled or circumstances are kind we can’t see ourselves overcoming. Since that last thing is a biggest lie, that time and again we keep ourselves reassuring.
    The window we open, may allow the wind with noise and dust in, but amidst that, it may also blow a dust off the surfaces we didn’t touch since solitary. It may bring some unwanted scent, but it may also come up with a fragrance that we never knew even existed. It may invite unfiltered light in, but it may also perch a mosaic or reflect a flare in mirror, that makes us accustom to the colors, we long thought had faded or was something beyond our senses.
    We got to take the chance, as ultimately we realize, life has a pattern of either following – soaking itself in what it’s drawn towards to create something better or wishing – just dreaming of things that can happen… We can either be at an end of a bridge where there’s a hope, along attempt for a continuous journey, or we can either be at an end, where there’s a regret of not being hopeful, and hence never enough trying. The suspension in between of the bridge called “depression” is never lasting, sooner or later we come to a point, where we start to see colors again, and that’s when we wonder, “Is it too late? Did I miss the train? Am I to remain lost in middle of nowhere?” There is an answer you must remember: “Nope. Life’s still here. Let yourself be open”.

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