You feel like falling deeper and deeper into a sunken hole of habitual skepticism. Psychoanalyzing yourself, seeking answers to the simple yet deeply rooted question, “How did I get here?”
It seems like being in the cycle of constantly battling with yourself internally.
Depression feels like not being able to get up in the morning…or at all – as if your bed is quicksand and you sink deeper and deeper into a pit of sorrows, like hitting the snooze on life for days on end.
You’re like spending hours of the day in a time-warp – everyone moving ahead, including your physical body, but the mind gotten lost in the past.
And then you start replaying moments in your head over and over again as if thinking about it enough will somehow change the chain of events.
