everybody thinks depression strives on the darkness of the hours, the elongation of the shadows. that when winter comes and the darkest days are approaching it’s the worst.
in his eyes all of them are wrong.
depression blooms when hope arrives. when the sunlight hits the bare branches and melt them into gold and you can easily outdrew the lines of the vibrating energies in the air. it’s the worst in the beginning of spring. when people and nature around him basking in warmness and their hearts fill up with joy and happiness.
he feels nature mocks and laughs at him. that all of that beauty only exist to remind him how miserable sometimes he can be. so he distances himself from other ones. not visible because when he is with them he can smile and laugh like every other day of the year, but when he is alone and sees the cheerful messages popping up from the group chat, he just can’t make himself to answer them. because he doesn’t have more energy to pretend and he is greedy of other people happiness yet shameful of his greediness.
he knows it’s terminal. that every year as the bare branches breaks bud and the golden lights start to turn in to softer greens he is starting to breath easier. he just has to hold on.
because no season lasts forever.