Written for someone I love.
Depression is a robber of things. It’s a thief that takes what you love most. Depression gathers up your possessions and leaves you with your life. One day you wake up alone in an empty house struggling to hear your own breath.
Depression steals not only valuables but people and desires. Depression leaves you with a ghost of a life. This cold dark entity steals your soul. You become consumed by that black hole. It creates a selfish being who only knows how to survive in the dark.
Your smiles are small and your laughs are quiet. You stop taking up space and start apologizing for existing. The walls close in and you have nothing left to protect you, because you gave it all up. You don’t take risks because that requires courage and strength. It already takes too much courage to wake up in the morning and too much strength to live.
It’s easier to let go of those who love you, because you don’t even love yourself. Depression takes you identity and you become a cold and empty human. You don’t want this. You want happiness and love like everyone else, but you don’t know how to do it.
At the end of the day you survive, but is surviving living?
your identity to be stolen by this bla
