Solitary Shell

He struggled to get through his day
He was helplessly behind
He poured himself onto the page
Writing for hours at a time

We all struggle to get through our days.  We all want to do better, be better, try harder to achieve.  Sometimes those things are easy and at other times we are so mired in our own doubts, self loathing, anxiety and depression we can’t find our way out of the forest.  Looking to friends can make the situation worse.  Some walk, even run, in the other direction so as to not be pulled into the maelstrom threatening to pull us under.  Those who do offer to help, we worry about becoming a burden to.  Then we find ourselves right back on the merry-go-round that brought us to this place.

Asking for help is hard to anyone suffering from depression.  They may go to the doctor/therapist/group dynamic looking for a moment’s peace, or piece of mind; but then something reminds them that they are walking back into the life which they feel is dragging them down.  Since turning around and marching back into that safe place is sometimes not possible, they withdraw even further into themselves.  The friend who says they are fine by themselves really isn’t.  Your coworker who remains in the office just to keep themselves busy isn’t kissing up to the boss, they just doesn’t feel safe with their own thoughts.  Your wife might not be able to talk about the pain she still feels inside after suffering a personal loss.  That teenage kid next door isn’t moody, but feels isolated from their peers because they are different in some way.  We see them every day, in every aspect of our lives and yet know nothing about what is causing them such pain or even how to approach them about how we can help.

I started this because I’m watching someone near to me beginning to self-destruct from fear and guilt, apprehension about what could have been, fears about what should have been.  I don’t know how to approach them anymore.

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