Depression is seductive: it offends and teases, frightens you and draws you in, tempting you with its promise of sweet oblivion, then overwhelming you with a nearly sexual power, squirming past your defenses, dissolving your will, invading the tired spirit so utterly that it becomes difficult to recall that you ever lived without it... or to imagine that you might live that way again. With all the guile of Satan himself, depression persuades you that its invasion was all your own idea, that you wanted it all along. It fogs the part of the brain that reasons, that knows right and wrong. It captures you with its warm, guilty, hateful pleasures, and, worst of all, it becomes familiar. All at once, you find yourself in thrall to the very thing that most terrifies you. Your work slides, your friendships slide, your marriage slides, but you scarcely notice: to be depressed is to be half in love with disaster.
Stephen L. Carter
Stephen L. Carter
- Last seen on Feb 14 3:36 AM. Member since January 6.
- I am a 19 year old guy from Massachusetts (United States)
- When I'm not writing, I'm Soldiering.
- I am in the groups Death Fallen Into Night
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My Stories
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I eagerly popped the child-proof cap and downed three or four little red pills, perhaps it was five or six.
1400 words, 3 comments, January 13. In Dark -
“So why don’t you tell me where the cuts on your legs came from.” He asked calmly, interlacing his fingers over crossed legs.
“I put th
