Why?

What right do I have to feel this way? What right do I have to be depressed?

My parents didn’t abuse me, they didn’t scream at me or neglect me or destroy my sense of worth or purpose. I had food, shelter, education, ‘toys’ and entertainment, interaction, guidance, love. Everything a child needs growing up. I had it all. My parents loved me to death, they still do. I am my mothers only child, I mean the world to her, she would do anything for me.

I’m not broke, I’m not living on the streets, I have a (moderately..) nice trailer thats paid off, I have a truck thats paid off, the rent and the bills are paid, I have food, cigarettes, anything and everything else that I want. It’s all there if I want it and readily available.

There’s people in Haiti living in tents because an earthquake destroyed everything they’ve ever known. There’s people in Africa dying of starvation and disease. There’s people in some unknown country getting shot over religon, philosophy, morals, differences of opinons. There’s people who’s homes are getting raided and their memories and possessions scattered to the winds. There’s people watching their loved ones die. There’s people being told they have 3 months left to live. There’s people opening evictions notices. There’s people being thrown into a wall by their husband, mother, friend, whoever…
And yet, here I am, when nothing is wrong in my world, and I’m so fucking depressed that I can’t even get up…
 

There’s nothing wrong. On the outside, there’s nothing wrong. I have nothing to complain about, life is good, it’s not stressful, I’m not stretched too thin or doing too many things or taxing myself too much. There is nothing wrong here, the world is an awesome place.

So why am I curled up on my sofa in the dark, not watching the tv that flashes by the wall, just staring at the thread that’s beginning to poke out of the cusion. Staring at it, for hours and hours it seems, when in reality it’s only been minutes. Why do I sit here in this endless hell, this pain, this misery? Why can I not smile, laugh, be happy? 

I get up, I go outside and sit in the sunshine with the plants and the animals and enjoy the natural world. Yet I still sit and stare at the line on that rock over there and my mind still crashes in on my until I want to rip my hair out and scream. My whole body aches and burns, even though there’s nothing physically wrong with me. Worms crawl under my skin, even though you can see them.

I go for a drive, through the country, through the city, it makes no difference, one just has more traffic than the other. Everywhere I see destruction, sadness, filth, ugliness, pain and sorrow. Why can I not see the beauty? In the world, in other people, in myself? I know it’s there, other people seem to be able to see it, so I know it’s there…

But not for me…it never has been. I’m scared that it never will be…