Depression is unforgiving. It’s a dark cave of lost dreams and vanished self-worth. It’s watching the world pass you by, knowing you should get up and do something about it, but you just don’t care. It’s realizing you haven’t showered in close to a week, knowing you probably smell, but again… You. Just. Don’t. Care.
You don’t care about anything.
You don’t care about your health.
You don’t care about friends.
You don’t care about the several missed meals from the days you’ve been laid up in bed, silently begging the ground to open up and swallow you whole.
Depression is knowing what you’re doing is dangerous, and physically not being able to do anything about it because the thought of moving even a single muscle feels like the hardest task. Depression is crying until there’s no more tears left, but continuing to sob anyway. It’s envisioning what dying would be like, but knowing that actually following through is too much work. It’s more than you can manage.
Depression doesn’t fucking care.
It’s not something you can“snap out of.”
And when it comes back for you, it’s a vengeful bitch. You could be okay for years, and one small thing can happen, and she slithers back into your bones, wrapping around your organs like a python until you’re right back in that same dark cave, watching life pass you by all over again.
I stopped taking my meds today.
They ran out… I knew they were running out, and I knew I should’ve called in for a refill with the pharmacy. I knew it but couldn’t do it. What’s the fucking point? I am who I am, and no pill concocted to alter my brain chemistry is going to change that. One way or another, I will always find my way back to the darkness. It consumes me. It’s who I am.
So, I stopped taking them. It wasn’t worth the effort.
Chapter Sixteen
Jules van der Meer
I’m packing up my briefcase, just about to leave work for the evening, when Devin, one of my colleagues, steps into the room.
“How’s it going, Van der Meer?”
Glancing over at him, I smile.
“Oh, another day,” I mutter, running a hand through my already messed up hair.
“I feel that,” he replies. “You going to the conference in California next week?”
Twice a year, there is a judicial conference that takes place. It’s held in a different location almost every time, and this year it’s in California.
“Yeah, I fly out Thursday night. You going?”
He nods before adding, “But I don’t fly out until Friday afternoon. I have a hearing that morning. Your son lives out there, yeah?”
At the mention of Ryan, my heart stutters in my chest. “He does. He’s in college down there.”
“That’ll be nice if you’re able to see him,” Devin says, meaning well.
“Yeah, it will,” I reply, forcing a smile the best I can. I tend to be a private person. There’s too much at stake for me to be loose-lipped. My relationship with Ryan is tricky, and that’s putting it nicely. I try not to think about it too often because it guts me, but knowing I’ll be in the same state as him kind of makes it hard to ignore. “Hey, I’ll catch you later. I gotta get going.”
Patting him on the back, I stroll out of the room, making my way through the building toward the parking garage. Operating on autopilot, I don’t even realize any time has passed until I’m pulling into my driveway. The house is quiet, as usual, when I enter. Suddenly, I’m hit with a reminder of how different this house used to be—used to feel—even a few short years ago.
After letting Rosa know I’m home, I head to the kitchen, pouring myself three fingers of whiskey. I toss it back, immediately pouring myself another. It’s apparently going to be one ofthosenights—the unfortunate trip down memory lane nights. The ones that remind me what an enormous fuck up I am. Grabbing the bottle—because let’s be honest, this won’t be my only glass of the night—I head to my bedroom.
I still remember how Lorelei’s essence was splashed all around this room. The area always smelled like her—floral and sweet. Clothes strewn about, shoes here and there. The bathroom was a constant display of make-up and hair products. She was cluttered, but it wasn’t until all of that suddenly disappeared, that I realized how much it was a comfort to me, too.
It was the same with Ryan… it wasn’t until the knee and shoulder pads, the jerseys, the helmets, were all gone, that it hit me how alone I felt. Kids grow up and they leave the nest… that’s life. It’s how the world works. And maybe it wouldn’t feel so devastating that he was all the way across the country if we actually spoke.
Our relationship was always rocky at best, but I will never forget the night almost two years ago that sealed the deal in his eyes. It was just about Christmastime, and he was going to be heading home from college on break. It was another late night at the office—like most nights back then—and Lorelei was out of town on a girl’s trip. After I left the office, I met with someone at a hotel on the outskirts of town. It wasn’t an all-night event. Just something quick to take the weight of my day off my shoulders.
