Depression: How it got me
The more aware I became of being left alone by her, the stronger became the urge to call her back. She had left behind a web of memories in which my life was now entangled. The awareness of her never-ending absence was burying me deeper in the debris of our failed relationship.
One day, as I sat ruminating about my past, it occurred to me that someone was quietly watching me. In trying to find who it could be, our eyes met, and I just couldn’t look away.
As we kept looking at each other, it dawned upon me that perhaps we were made for each other. I kept looking at her, unable to turn my gaze away. After a while, she started walking towards to me. It seemed as though she had finally made up her mind that she wanted to be with me.
She exuded a strange, overpowering effect. I could no longer think, and a strange sense of rejection, dejection and gloom started creeping in. The closer she came, the more aggravated these feelings became. I wanted to turn and walk away, but it felt impossible to do so. Her silence and darkness had mesmerised me. Finally, she took me into her cold embrace. Enveloping me in her dark shadow, she hissed in my ears, “Depression is my name.”
Her gentle, imperceptible grip proved too strong for my spirit to break and free itself. Her kiss made the smile vanish from my lips and made me speechless; I no longer felt like I wanted to speak to anyone. The caress of her soft hands made my heart feel heavy. All my hopes were suffocating to death, yet I didn’t want to revive them. My laughter was now merely a rolling sound devoid of ebullience. All my desires were wilting under her glare. Cheer and happiness felt like an unwanted, disturbing crowd.
Slowly, one after the other, she started cutting loose the threads that bound my spirit to the bright, jovial, friendly, mad world. For, she wanted to take me away to her dark and lonely world, where I would only be hers.
She had turned my world upside down. Although she wasn’t trying to hold me back, yet I did not have the courage, the will or the desire to part ways with her. Her company was strangely addictive. The darkness of her engulfing shadow promised a strange sense of security and melancholic anonymity. I pulled the curtains over the windows, switched off all the lights, and then overcome by a sense of self-pity, lay resting in her arms. Days passed by, and with each passing moment, I was kept losing myself to her.
My unkempt appearance, perpetual sadness, doomed expression, nothing deterred her from loving me. In fact, she loved me more now.
She started reasoning and impressing upon me that life was a burden, and only by dying could I relieve myself of this unwanted cargo. Convinced by her persuasion, my belief in her logic grew stronger and stronger.
Finally, she did convince me to die and put an end to my misery.
She watched me with glee and admiration while I stood on the table and tied the rope to the ceiling fan. As I put the noose around my neck, and looked at her, she blew me a kiss. I pushed the table from under my feet. As I floated away into the emptiness of oblivion, she bade me farewell, to seek someone else to love and bring him to the noose.