Depression Is A Demon Stalker
Having depression is like having a demon stalker who hates you and constantly tells you mean and horrible things.
The stalker thrives on you listening and absorbing his constant barade of insults. His assault is relentless.
On a daily basis, the demon stalker provides you with lists of reasons that you’re unworthy. Reasons that you are unlovable. Reasons that the world would be better off without you.
Everything it says is lies, and yet you hang on every word. You allow the demon to continue to throw insults at you. Eventually, you become more comfortable with self-hatred than you are with self-love.
You don’t realize that all you have to do is fight back. Fight him. Tell him to go away. Refuse to listen to him. Just say no.
But you don’t.
Others may be repulsed by the stalker, but somehow with depression, the stalker becomes your best friend.
You allow your stalker to embrace you, and you become comfortable in his arms. His words become your words. These words now hold more truth than the words of the ones you love.
Every time your husband tells you he loves you, you cringe. The stalker yells that loving you is physically repulsive.
Your children hug your neck, kiss your cheek, and your stalker lists out all the ways you’re failing them.
You begin to think about suicide.
No one around you knows exactly how mean your demon stalker is. His cruel and relentless insults remain your own little secret.
Even if you told them, they’d just try to argue that the insults aren’t true. But you know they are. The insults have become facts.
Days are bad, nights are long, and it gets harder and harder to maintain your composure. You’re exhausted.
Therapy and medication don’t make a dent because your depression is your comfort zone.
You’re so immersed in your reality that you truly can’t accept that anyone could actually love you. How could they?
So tired of putting on a happy face. So tired of being insufficient, ineffective, and intolerable. You focus on your mistakes – ways you are ruining the lives of others.
Your demon stalker has complete control of you now. You are one and the same. There’s no reality other than your own living nightmare.
A bottle of pills is in your hand. Such a simple solution. You open it and swallow all the pills in one gulp. The stalker finally getting what he wants tells you, now you can finally relax.
Your husband comes home. He finds you on the floor foaming at the mouth and barely breathing.
He calls an ambulance and you’re rushed to the hospital. You’re not dead. The doctors fight to keep you alive while your husband stands behind looking at you in shock and horror.
What is he going to tell the kids? How will he explain how Mommy got sick? What is he going to do if you die? Why? Why? Why? He sits and sobs into his hands – helpless. Hopeless.
The doctors aren’t sure if you will come out of the coma – it could be weeks. It could be never. You lie in the bed with tubes and ventilators – you’re not dead.
You’re still alive.
You didn’t think about what would happen if you didn’t die. You didn’t think you’d have to hear your husband cry or worry about the medical bills he will have to pay.
You didn’t think you would be there when your children came to visit you. You didn’t think you’d see their faces crying and missing you.
You din’t think you’d have to witness the twinkle of youth in their eyes become dull with tears.
You start to realize that you should have fought the stalker. You should not have embraced him as your best friend.
You realize the stalker was a cruel beast who seduced you into his friendship.
If only you had not embraced him. If only you’d refused his insults and ignored the lies he told you. Would things have been different? Could you have lived AND been happy?
Suddenly you notice him in the corner of the room. To your horror, you realize he’s not talking to you. Now he is talking to your child.
But you can’t do anything.
The stalker ignores you now, no longer interested in seducing you. His attention is on your baby who sits by your bed and wonders why you left her. Why wasn’t being with her and Daddy enough?
She doesn’t understand how you were fooled by the stalker. But she will. The stalker is hers now.
This post was inspired by a true story of suicide and could have been my own. My story has a different ending because I’ve learned to fight my demon stalker.
Or call your friends and family. They want to help you. Your secrets give your stalker strength.
Refuse to listen to his lies. I know you can’t believe good things about yourself, but you don’t have to allow the terrible thoughts.
Just say no when they come up. Just yell it loud enough in your head that it stops the thought. When you do that, I promise overtime they get quieter. The lies become obviously lies.
The weight you’re carrying becomes lighter. The battle gets easier.
Depression is not as strong as you think it is, and you are stronger than you think you are.
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