I put pen to paper on this piece during one of the darkest, most suffocating bouts of depression I’ve experienced. It was one of those periods where the sadness felt utterly inescapable — a heaviness that saturated my entire being.
On the surface, my life circumstances were fortunate enough. I had loving relationships, economic stability, and good health. But internally, I was drowning under waves of profound melancholy.
Getting out of bed became a gargantuan effort. Once passionate pursuits lost all luster and appeal. I felt hopelessly, inextricably alone despite being surrounded by caring people
“The Weight of Sorrow
A heaviness settles, permeating every fiber
As if the world itself is pressing down
Sapping strength, dimming light
Each breath labored under sorrow’s mass
The simplest tasks become immense ordeals
Rousing from bed, a monumental climb
Putting one foot in front of the other
An epic journey through Quick-sand-like fatigue
Motivation drowns in seas of hopelessness
Once bright futures now eclipsed
By thunderclouds of melancholy
Obscuring all dreams, all desires
