Depression - /dɪˈprɛʃ(ə)n/ - feelings of severe despondency and dejection. "self-doubt creeps in and that swiftly turns to depression". a long and severe recession in an economy or market. "the depression in the housing market"
Imagine yourself, sitting on a chair, in an empty house. Your mind is full of thoughts, starting from wanting to become someone great to destroying your life, because you believe you won't be able to achieve or attain that state of prominence.
Imagine yourself in a crowded room. You are in an animated mood. You are conversing with people. People are intrigued by you, you entertain them, they love you. But, inside you, you are not sure, you do not believe anything you say.
Whatever, you have been doing at this point of time, till this very moment, you judge everything. You wonder whether life itself is true. Going to sleep is a problem for you, waking up is worse.
You don't want to share this with anyone, not even the man who loves you, not even the family that dotes on you. You are scared that they will be scared and they would want to take care of you. However, you want to be alone, you are unsure whether they will understand you, in this struggle.
You thrive for love, longing, peace, stability. But, you don't believe that it is worth that pain, it is worth that wait, or time, or energy.
You take double the time to write one sentence; you take triple the time to satisfy yourself by sentence, you have just written. Next morning, you regret that yesterday ever happened.
You are suffering, and you want to be cured. But, you are too ashamed or too unconfident that people will understand. Your whole life has been about running away from the truth, escaping from the very meaning and purpose of your life.
Impulse rules you; rationalism irritates you. You hallucinate; you soliloquize.
You stare, you think about what you are trying to think. There is an emptiness inside your heart and stomach, it is being filled up by oblivion. You close your eyes, you want to sleep, but you can't. Your mind is stimulating thoughts, too fast for you to put in a pensive and analyse it later.
It is morning, you need to get up. Three cups of tea, seven cups of coffee. Caffeine is your best friend. At night, alcohol is your husband. And, scag is your extra-marital affair.
You are not surviving. You are a living death. And then, pop. It's over.
You have woken up from the dream. Was it psychosis?