Depression comes in waves. It’s not simply solved or something I can instantly overcome. When it hits, I feel stuck and willing to do just about anything to make the feeling go away. Like a dagger twisted into my brain and heart, sometimes I wish it would just kill me already. To let it go or move past the feeling is easier said than done. Once I get to the debilitating level of depression, it takes a serious concern from loved ones to snap me out of it. I can’t just get out of it on my own. I need to hear that this too shall pass and I need to feel like people care. Even if I don’t want to believe people care, I need to see it. I feel so sorry for the people who have no one around them to say, “You matter to me.” I go so low that I feel like the world would be better off without me but because of other people, they remind me of the good I do and the purpose I serve. My thoughts about myself when I’m trapped in the hole are always false but I don’t remember that when I get slammed by a depressive bout. If I don’t talk about it, I can stay stuck for days. I may hate it when people force me to talk but I’m grateful that they give a shit. It’s usually exactly what I need to know and then I can crawl out of what seems to be an abyss.