Drained.

Drained.

That’s all I ever really feel anymore.

Extreme fatigue and lack of motivation.

I don’t suppose it’d matter to anyone.

Or that they could understand it really.

Even if they wanted to.

Feelings are like that, they can never be truly shared.

But we can give them.

Because giving and sharing are not the same things.

Giving requires only that you be willing

And that the other person be accepting

Sharing requires love. On both sides.

We only ever reluctantly offer to give because we feel that we must.

Society requires it of us. Like smiling.

We put on smiles to put off sharing our feelings.

Feelings that we are ourselves often don’t understand.

Most people don’t know how to own their feelings.

It’s almost like they’ve lost the art of it.

Of being able to feel and fully accept what you feel.

To face it.

To communicate and impart.

The art of transmitting one’s feelings.

But I suppose they’re not entirely to blame.

After all, who really cares anymore?

The average stranger will only give you a passing glance, if that.

The acquaintance a quick nod,

As if to say, “I see you, I acknowledge you. Just not enough to be bothered by you”.

The close friend?

Well, how close can people ever really be?

I guess we’re all just plodding along trying to figure things out.

Feeling and never letting it show.

Existing and never really being.

It doesn’t matter anymore that you’ve had a tough day.

Or that you missed your bus. Or that your dog died.

You’re expected to always have a smile fixed on your face.

No wonder we are masters at pretending.

Adept at living in fantasy worlds.

Using up all our energy trying to stay alive.

And it all comes back full circle.

Drained.

Like the plug has been pulled

Like a dry dock.

Like nothing matters anymore.

And yet despite everything.

It really does.

- A reflective poem on depression.