The Knocking Depression

Knock. Knock. Knock.
I'm afraid of the knocking. Every time it comes, I'm in shock. I can't feel anything. I can't move. I have no control. And it always comes back. I'm asking myself so often, why it always comes back to me. I ask myself, what I did wrong and why I deserved to be so scared all the time. I sadly never found an answer to these questions.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I should think about something positive. Something that always cheers me up. Something that helps me forget that the knocking is back again.
I should think about my relationship. I should think about the woman who tells me she loves me more than anything. The woman who wants to make me feel stable and secure. The woman I should feel safe with. She, who I love with every single cell of my body and never want to let go. The only one I should feel at home with.
Or I should think about my family, who promised me to always be there for me and care about me. My parents, who raised me. My grandmother, who always understood me. My cousins, who always listened to me.
I should think about my friends, who know how to distract me. No matter what happens, they always know how to make me smile.
I should believe in hope, which tells me that the knocking won't come back after it leaves this time. The voice that tells me that one day I won't be scared of it anymore because it won't be able to hurt me.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
But in reality, my relationship will never be what I want it to be. She will never love me as much as I love her. One day, she will have enough of all the problems that I have. The problem that I am. She will leave me for someone who can protect her better. Someone who can actually protect her. Someone who isn't as scared as I am. Someone who actually loves her unconditionally. Someone who's better.
The knocking gets louder.
In reality, my family fears the knocking just as much as I do. They will start to ignore it and hope that it will stop eventually. I will be too much for them to handle and they will realise that all the work won't be worth it. They will leave me.
I'm starting to feel pain.
In reality, my friends only are with me because we have mutual other friends. That's why they decided to be with me in the first place. They are just searching for a reason to get rid of me. Maybe then, when I accidentally make the smallest mistake. Then they will have a reason to leave and they won't have to admit that I'm too much for them.
My head starts bleeding.
And in reality, hope is just an unrealistic image of what is actually happening. Because I already know that it will come back again and again and again. It will come back every time I'm the most vulnerable. In reality, I know that at some point it will lead to me dying and right then, it will be too late anyways. Right then the people will get what they're asking for. Right then they will be happy.
But I don't want to lose them all.
The knocking stops.
Maybe someone should have taken me to the hospital, when I started slamming my skull against the wall.
Category:Mental Illness