The thing about this ocean, this depression, the thing nobody is ever brave enough to tell you, is that you must learn to swim to shore by yourself. You must find the strength to climb onto the beach no matter how sharp the rocks are, or how they cut. You must then learn to stay there and not fall into the comforting familiarity of the salt and the sensation of drowning. You must go through the agony of learning how to walk by yourself. But when you've been through all that, you are free to find your heaven. You are free to help others find their heaven. You are free to feel happy and become comfortable with that emotion for the rest of your days.


Don't tell me I can knock these walls down if I try, because I don't want to listen anymore. Just putting one foot in front of the other isn't as easy as it looks, and I can't recall the last time a happy thought entered my brain, or a even the memory of a smile. So you can keep your hugs and the well intentioned words because they can't heal me and neither can your love. This depression is an ocean, yet not the ones full of life and colour. My ocean is a million shades of grey the same as those old-fashioned photographs.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, February 16, 2019.
Fantasy / Epic

His mind was a constant poison that would fill him with venom. He too was a patient here as much as anyone else, the only difference was that he was the elder. I remember when the group therapy sessions first began he introduced himself and admitted that he had terrible anxiety, he even apologised for any future incidents his mental illness might cause. He is filled with his own darkness and depression which he still attempts to file away and forget, like a bad grade or an overgrown nail. He is with us in this sea of depression, not knowing how to swim. Hektor has constructed a boat you see, it is made from our words and thoughts that are shared in these sessions.

By raeelizabeth, March 26, 2015.

Found in The God Complex - First Draft, authored by Rae Handley.