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The ugly truth about what *my* depression looks like.

My depression is a fucking liar. She smiles in your face, tells lame jokes that no one gets, tries to cheer everyone else around her, and dresses pretty, puts on make up and tells everyone how great everything is gonna be… She will do anything to make you feel better.

But to me, she’s cruel, heartless, and utterly destructive. She tells me over and over how unattractive I am, and worthless, and points out my many many many flaws. “You’re disgusting, you’ll never be beautiful”   She will harangue me relentlessly over every stupid mistake. “You fuck everything up” And I ceaselessly provide her with fuel.     The worst part is, she knows my every insecurity and feeds them. Gorges them on my darkest fears till they’re so swollen they blot out the light. I hear them taunting me, touting terrible dark things like “no one will ever love you” and I believe it, because I’ve never been good enough thus far.

My depression wreaks havoc on my body. She eats food that makes me ill, causes me pain and makes me gain weight. She keeps me from sleeping at night and makes me feel tired all the time. She distracts me constantly, so I can’t focus. I can’t function. Lending weight to all her claims against me that I’m a hideous, unlovable, fuck up.

Sometimes I fight back. When I do, I am usually easily overtaken by her. Occasionally I fight back hard and she takes a step back. Plays nice. Tells me that she’s proud of how strong I’m becoming. And just when I start feeling like I’ve got her beat, I’ll let my guard down and she pounces like a cat on a mouse…

She is clever too. She robs me of my confidence, so I can’t build strong relationships or trust with anyone that might take away from her control over me. Evil and calculating and always two steps ahead of everyone and anyone. She has an explanation to rule out every act of kindness and every relationship, be-it romantic, just friends, workmates or even haters… If they care, then they’re blind to my flaws and anything good is instantly discounted as they’re only saying these things to make me feel better… and if they are haters, well, they must be justified, because I gave them reason to believe I’m really just an untrustworthy bitch that deserves it.   And oh, just forget it if they love me… because there’s just no possible way they could *actually* love me.  So by all means question everything to death, take everything too personally, clam up in fear of showing weakness or give too much, then hate myself for it afterwards. Once in a while I realize I’m doing this, apologize, try like hell not to do it again… but, either the damage is done already, or I just end up repeating the same mistake because I’m convinced that I’m unworthy as I am.

I build people up, and tell them all the things that are good about them, because the idea of someone else feeling irrevocably valueless seems horrendous to me, since I know how that feels. I live in that world and I’d wish it on nobody. I’d live there alone, dreaming of the day I can escape.

But don’t know if I ever will.

This may make you feel uncomfortable. I know it makes me uncomfortable… but it’s my ugly truth.