Depression Monologue

Happiness was a foreign language I had never understood. We all come to realize at some point that there will be good days, and there will be bad days, but what do you do when there are so many more bad days than good, and life is just moving on without you? Everyone is getting on the train that is on the way to success and joy, but I have just been forced off yet again by my depression. It tugs at me, and each word echoes louder and louder. “You’re not meant for this.” But how can life not be meant for me? Surely I must be here for a reason. I aspire to be influential no matter what. One of my greatest fears is dying before I had a chance to live. My depression surprises me. I’ve been at my lowest more times than I can count now, and each time I swore I was getting better, but I never did. That was just something I told myself so I had a reason to live. A reason to stay here; I did not want to be the empty space my depression thought I was. So I created my own reclamations. I let depression conquer me for too long. Depression stole my life. It ruined the relationships I have with the people that mean the most to me, it ruined my passion for school. It ruined my will to carry on with life and its trivialities. It ruined Kimberly Heard. It stole the soul of the woman who inhabited my body. I was, and still am filled with

The monster I had become. I took a microscope and went over my life, and I realized that I had so many imperfect perfections. The way my mother always wishes me a good day at school. How my best friends lip corners turn upward when she smiles, and her eyes radiate true joy. The way my instrument always plays in tune. The way my teachers always greet me with a smile. For the first time, my good outweighed my bad, and I was able to see life how it really was. Step one of my new vision. A new outlook on