The rollercoaster

Getting out from depression, it feels like the first breath of air. With coughing and burning in the lungs. That your muscles are heavy and the brain is overloaded.

It is identical to the first steps of an infant. And is followed by this innate need to breathe until you feel you could explode like a pufferfish.

It is that you bury your fingers in the sand as you need the salt with the burning to believe that you feel a need to exist. You grab the nearest book and devour it. You listen to five to fifty CDs and make all the plans for today. Not for tomorrow, nor the day after tomorrow because we aren’t brave enough.

Entering the stage where you laugh without feeling like a psychopath is where you eat. You grab salads and sweets because your stomach ate itself and you are HUNGRY.

There is no simpler way to explain it than you in front of the refrigerator at midnight because your stomach roars. And it's fine because three months passed from the last time you ate.

You act like a lunatic running everywhere. Preparing for the hurricane, that you send messages to your ex and say that everything is fine.

It feels like a horror movie viewer, the warning is on your lips. However, your eyes are stuck to the screen and you forget. For ten to five seconds you forget that there is a threat hanging around, so you enjoy.

You walk day and night, you risk going to birthdays and you drink alcohol because there is no second-guessing of throwing up. You talk yourself into kissing the black-eyed boy and that your wrists are clean and pretty. That you dress comfortably and happily and there is no dirt buried in your soul.

You feel like a ten.

.....

The return of depression is like the police knocking the door at two in the morning. Failing a studied exam and that he leaves without saying goodbye.

You were on the top of the roller coaster and knew what was coming. That your steps become slow and the food tastes like the sand of your fingers. That you are sleepy but don’t sleep even if you dream of the bed. And that you would swear to have been better but that the music was a distant sound and more screens was a distraction.

That depression feels like you had an anchor attached to your ankle and you don't remember how to breathe

TA.