Guide The Chronicle Depressed

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It seems now that all of the lights can not find me. I stay alone inside of a coffin. The music that I hear, along with them [the people] is not the same. I hear the music. Why is it so sad? Every capital [country capital] is like a mourning song. I silently went to the toilet to cry. I shouted and I did not know what I was saying. The idea that someone could come and knock on the door vanished soon.

I slowly calmed down.

I looked down to the toilet. I felt that I was sitting above a well. They, from deep inside, were calling my name non-stop. At first, it was man calling, later, many people were calling me together. It may be an echo. At that time I really wanted to jump inside. Everywhere in an abyss. I wake up every morning thinking. Why am I alive? I live with this question.

New study says graduate students' mental health is a "crisis"

But I do not get any answers. First, I laid on the bed and then I laid on the floor. In the end I was sitting on a chair, starring at two stretched curtains.


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I felt that someone was standing behind me with a rope at my neck and then grabbed my neck with his fingers. I am trembling, but I did not shed a sweat. The skin was so cold that my consciousness was awake, but my body was long asleep. I stand up to pull the curtains. I climbed on the windowsill. I always thought that I have never lost the most rational thing. But in that time I thought that my death is near. So far away from anything else.

I thought that only death exists. Death is the only thing that I can obtain extremely easy. This kind of feeling is making me feel so safe, so real. I am not afraid, not even a little. My friend suddenly opened the door. He saw that half of me was outside the window. Scared, he immediately knelt near the door crying and asking me to come down.

I am also crying. I am crying and talking to myself. I give myself all the positive reasons worth living for.

Bringing Light to the Darkness of Depression

In the eyes of others, how can I be normal? Also, she did not witness that I wanted to commit suicide. Also, since that moment, I started taking medicine. He gave me two kinds of drugs. One is made out of red capsules, the other is made out of white pills. He told me that I should take the red one before I eat and after I eat I should take the white one. Actually, using those pills did not bring me any improvement, but they helped me get some peace. But sometimes, I took the wrong medicine. Once I thought I am under the earth, when in fact we are above the earth. After I took one red pill I felt that I was lying in bed watching football, and also that I spit in the face of the football fans and they burn each other with a lighter.

Since then I have never ever watched a sport event. I turned on the air conditioner. I want to go downstairs, but I am afraid to wait for the elevator. I fear that they can see me.

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I am more afraid that other people are going to see me. I want to do something, but I am afraid of anything. Half a month later, the first thing I did after waking up in the afternoon was searching for medicine. I will explode at any time.

Shedding Light on Student Depression - Jack Park - TEDxPenn

In fact, I want to return to reality, but reality is ridiculous. When I found out that I started to rely on drugs, I immediately stopped taking them. I choose to stay and truly believe in my crash. But this is my best skill, the that helps me survive: to accept it.

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I am sitting on the sofa. The white milky sofa seems like a desert. Am I a camel or a cactus? Who [from the people outside] is going to look at me with dignity? When I am finally lively, I am afraid that soon I am going to be quiet again. When I was quiet, I was afraid that I would scream. A glass of wine can make me act very smooth, lively, but it also makes me slip at any time. Rolling down the stairs seems like doing aerobics. This does not compare to the feeling of being hurt by people.

This feels safe. Every scar, bruise, just like the pills, takes actual shape and I do not longer fear. If I lay down, I spend in bed up to hours a day. Sometimes I feel like lying on the mattress.

Sometimes I feel like lying under the mattress, sometimes in the actual middle of it. This is as hard as falling asleep.

I always feel that the door is not locked and that someone is ringing at the doorbell. But I did not install a doorbell at my house at all. Curiosity and panic coexist.