I was sitting in a restaurant in Vegas. It was supposed to be a fun vacation. There was music all around me. I didn’t know the song that was playing. I think someone was performing that night. I could hear shoes tapping but I couldn’t see. I was sitting facing the window with my husband right in front of me. I could see people passing by the window. Everyone seemed happy as the glamor of Vegas sparkled in their eyes. You see the thing about Vegas, as seductive as it is, it is also very cold and lonely. Perhaps, that is why everyone is drunk in Vegas to have some warmth in that sad, depressing city. However, I digress. It is not Vegas problem. It is mine.
My husband wanted to know what was wrong with me. I didn’t have an answer. I call it a dark cloud. It’s always around but some days without warning it gets darker, bigger, scarier. Somedays you can’t escape and you can’t explain. No one around you will understand when you yourself don’t fully understand it. So I sat there, pretending to be happy when my whole world was crumbling inside. You do become an expert in pretending even though it takes an insane amount of energy just to act normal. You envy people and how easy it is for them and you wonder if this black cloud will ever leave you and what will you be without it. It’s like being in an emotionally abusive relationship where your partner keeps reminding you how worthless you are and the worse part of it is that you believe him. That you’re sad because you deserve it, because everyone is better than you are, because no one will ever like you, so you’ve to stay with him and you do. I sat in that restaurant fighting with my depression begging for it to go away, let me be happy, just for one night.
I saw my soul looking at me and I looked back. Its vacant eyes frightened me. Depression takes away any feelings you ever had and fill you up with emptiness. I used to feel joy, excitement, love, now I just feel numb. My husband asked me again if I’m alright. I told him yes, let’s order another drink. I don’t remember the drink I ordered. It doesn’t matter as long as I can drown that numbness in alcohol. As long as I can feel something. Anything. We take so much for granted.
As the night passed on, I got more and more agitated. I wanted to run, as fast as I could, somewhere safe, but there is no place to run. Instead I smiled, and told my husband about how much fun I’m having as my depression smirked at me . I tried not to pay attention to it. I’m happy right!? It’s Vegas after all. Everyone is happy in Vegas. Isn’t it? Is there something wrong with me? Is it just me? I look at my husband and wondered if he deserves this empty shell of a person? Will he be better off without me? My depression agrees, look at you! Look how pathetic you are. I try ignoring it again. My hands started to shake, my heart started to race. Here comes depression best friend, anxiety. Now, anxiety is a drama queen. It likes to make an entrance. Like getting drenched in sweat in 20 degrees weather. I tell my husband we should get out. We go for a walk with anxiety and depression by my side. He asked me again if I’m having fun. I assure him it has been a lovely night.
There’s no escape. Not tonight.
With depression, there are bad days and worse days. There are no good days. It leaves you hollow, takes away everything you ever were or could be but sometimes, for a small moment, the black cloud disperse and you can hear the bluebird sing as it used to and somedays it’s enough to help you carry on.
”There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out
I say, I know that you're there
So don't be sad
Then I put him back
But he's singing a little in there, I haven't quite let him die“
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