**Just a heads up folks – I’m talking about my Depression here … **
Alternative title: Brain, oh dearest brain, in the words of War “why can’t we be friends? Why can’t we be friends? You insufferable sack of crap!” Ok so maybe they didn’t sing the last bit, but I’m pretty sure if the song was written for you my darling sponge of knowledge, then they would have bellowed that bit into every darned sentence given your current attitude problem!
My brain is screaming, the slightest movement causing pain to coarse through every part of my head, I don’t dare move my eyes because even in the darkness it feels as though they are being burned by sunlight and my stomach wants to empty as much of it’s contents as it can. I feel the tears caressing my face but can’t risk wiping them away. My Migraines are back.
And right there by their side, is my Depression.
“I need to get water” I mumble into the darkness of the morning, the Migraine finally starting to subside into the hangover stage. I clamber out of bed, steadying myself against the spinning sensation, I refuse to switch lights on as I navigate to the bathroom … I refuse to look into the mirror, I’m scared to look into the mirror.
My Depression is whispering in my ear, telling me to look upon my reflection, telling me how disgusting and worthless I am. How I will never amount to anything, how funny it must be for people to watch me constantly try and fail. How everything I do, and will ever do, is a futile attempt to create a nice life for myself – after all, why should I be allowed anything nice? Even if I’ve worked really hard for it. I can almost hear the amusement in it’s poisonous words. Mocking.
I finish my glass of water and sigh.
I massage the dull ache in my left temple, my right hand gripping the side of the sink for support, my stomach churning. The Migraine dancing just under the surface.
I splash water on my face (taking care not to headbutt the tap – been there, done that), refill my glass and utter a choice swear word into the dark mirror as an act of defiance.
I then shuffle from the room, tracing my hand across the wallpaper, searching for my room. Tired. In need of my duvet.
I return to bed, I return to sleep, I return to my dreams.