By Jakai Martin
Depression, the ten letter word that controls where I go, what I eat, and when I sleep. Depression can be many things, but it can often feel like a ten mile race you never had the chance to prepare for; the best friend you never asked for, or merely an experience that can last for ten days or less………. or more. Imagine feeling like you have to go to the bathroom, but the nearest toilet is ten miles away. Imagine wanting to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but the knife to spread the condiments is ten million pounds heavy. Let’s say you’ve traveled the ten miles it takes to reach the cold tiled floor, but sadly you’re out of luck. Depression relishes the opportunity to join the girls’ group trip to the bathroom. Instead of handing you lip gloss, you’re left with cold feet and unwashed pajama pants, looking into the mirror, not recognizing who you see staring back at you– you’ll leave feeling ten pounds heavier and ten more minutes closer to death. Although cold and bitter, depression has become the closest thing to a lover I have ever felt because of its commitment to companionship. Depression is a ten letter illness that loves you like the plague and cannot be cured by modern day medicine, nor is it easily scared off by fluids and rest. Depression is the jealous lover who brought a gun to the knife fight of your life, and we all know how that ends. I have laid next to my ten lettered idol for many days and nights, yet I still feel lonelier than I did yesterday.
White Noise Zine 