Depression Sucks Novels & Stories

Not to think that I've been able to do everything to feel what people say is happiness. Because all other people move on with their jobs, families and dreams, despite the obstacles. Because it is always very easy to get back on your feet after a fall, without ever giving up. They do not know the weight of a deep depression, nor the price of finding the root that can fix this sadness in a hole that opens in our chest.

"Your sister is suffering from major depressive disorder, and this has significantly affected her mental health." His words land like a heavy blow, knocking the air out of me. My breath grows shallow, my vision blurring as the weight of his statement sinks in. "W-what?!"

"You suck bro!" This is exactly what I needed, an impromptu game of Karaoke on a late Tuesday evening with close family. These past few days have been literal hell, the amount of mental strain and stress I've been under is quite indescribable. All of the fuckery I've dealt with over the years are slowly chipping away at my psyche to expose a broken shell of me. It's a wonder how I actually remain sane after all this time, this industry literally sucks the damning life out of you. All in all I just can't bare to be alone for the remainder of the day, it will be nice to forget everything for a few hours.

I asked her and she rolled her eyes at me. “Would you answer me now?” She glared at me and I groaned. “Okay, it’s stupid, but you are right, it does have something to do with my illness, but what can I say? I’m so tired of feeling sad and being depressed all the time. I feel like I don’t have the energy to keep living...” It was true that this was ridiculous. It was so stupid.

When people pretend to be normal or rather prefer not to think about their issue, it doesn’t mean everything is going well with them. That’s to say, someone can be depressed and no fucking body would know about it because they try to keep it cool. Let me say it out loud, everyone is fucking going through one or two, but my damn self is going through fucking ten! So literally everything is not going well for me. Since you have triggered it, I will let you know about one of it. Nobody knows about it except for few of my friends. Here it is: I don’t have a mom… Shit sucks right? Something happened. I guess I will stop here, else you tell me one of your problem.

[Apple] Despair is deeper than sadness--it is the feeling of no longer having hope. As I sob on the cold, hard ground, my body seizes with loss. What will I do without Sylvester? Is this little spark of life all that remains of my mate and our love? Will I end up like my mother, alone with a child, still in love with my mate but unable to be with him, mourning him for the rest of my life until I die of depression?

I covered my head with a pillow but then pulled it off to let out a breath of air. My eyes found the ceiling. I struggled to find a motivation to go, to push myself just a little bit harder. Most people associate depression with sadness, but it's so much more than that. A depressed person isn't always locked in a room crying with the lights off. Sometimes, it's that girl you see smiling in class, talking to everyone; or that joking boy who makes you laugh. They wear masks, and they can project joy even if it's not genuine.

His hands were balled up. She reached out, gently caressing his cheek, his beard was getting long and thick, the look in his eyes when she touched him, made her pull her hand away like he had swatted it off. She had tears in her eyes. "You are not crazy, having depression is perfectly normal in your situation, maybe if you did the exercises, if you saw progress, maybe you would feel better". "Just get it for fucks sake, it won't get better, it never will, I am worthless". He snapped at her, but his voice was gushing pain, and it hurt her.

Mу dеѕіrе fоr thаt wоmаn іnvаdеѕ my thoughts nіght and dау. This depression is not lіkе mе аt all. I’m usually аll асtіоn. Frаnklу, іt’ѕ unсоmfоrtаblе. Nоt officially working thе саѕе іѕ hаrd fоr me.

I slow down when I enter a small dustbowl town and creep through at twenty-five miles an hour as the speed sign dictates. I'm sleepy, and a few hours ago, a sense of melancholy descended. It happens from time to time. It's another reason I fight. When you're someone like me, there's nowhere to go for depression. Hell, I don't need some fucking head shrink to call a spade a spade. My wiring is fucked up and fighting cures all my evils.