Depression is a monster

Depression is a monster. Some days, it’s a small creature perched on my shoulder, whispering terrible things into my ear. Other days, it’s a giant beast pinning me to my bed, only letting me get up to pee, then telling me I’m worthless for staying in bed all day. It hollows me out and climbs inside the empty shell, until I no longer know where the depression begins and where I end. It turns me into the worst version of myself. It doesn’t blind me to the fact that the sun is shining; it makes me feel mocked by its light. How dare the sun shine when it’s so cold and dark inside me? Depression is a monster. Depression is a monster, but I don’t have to fight it alone. I’ve got a freaking army. Many of you fighting by my side have your own monsters, or feel overwhelmed and helpless when I become a monster myself, but still, you stay with me. You can’t see my monsters, but they’re terrified of you, because with you by my side, I actually have a chance to defeat them.