Breaking it Down: Exhaustion.

“Life is pain, highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something.”

Life is pain.

Or, at least, it can be. I’ve found that during severe episodes every breath, is, in fact, pain. There is nothing else. Just pain or unconsciousness. I prefer unconsciousness.

Being Awake

The trouble is, depression is horrendously painful. It is the pain that makes pain scream. And there tends to be nowhere to hide. Depression checks behind rocks, it seems.

And the thoughts or the lack of thoughts that go with that depression haunt every blink. This ridiculous struggle not to die moment after moment. Don’t slit your wrists. Don’t overdose. Don’t jump off a building. It’s all so entirely exhausting.

Being Asleep

But being asleep is different. Somehow, in my dreams, I am never in the agony of depression. Somehow in my dreams I’m normal. I fall in love. I smile. I do the impossible. I feel happy. I have no idea how my brain manages it. But somehow it doesn’t register the pain.

And flickering in and out of sleep is almost as glorious. It’s just enough unconsciousness to drone out the angry, hateful voices and yet enough consciousness to enjoy it. It’s your brain, on sleep.

So I’m Tired, A Lot

And so I find the lure of sleep to be that of a siren. Something that calls to me with inescapable tone. Why would I ever want to live in a world where the air is acid when I can simply lay my head on goose down feathers and close my eyes?

And knowing this, I feel very, very tired. It’s true, depression will make a person tired regardless, but I suspect my mind, knowing of the relief of sleep, urges its presence rather strongly.

And while I know it’s difficult to get work done or clean the kitchen while asleep, it’s so much better than many of the other options. When asleep, my heart, my wrists, my bones are intact. Not getting any better. But not getting worse. And not getting dead. That’s something.