The Many Sides of Depression
One motion, that’s all it took. One motion to reveal the filthy bathroom sink, shit-stained toilet, and the brown ring around the tub. Dust and dead skin covered the tile floors. Black balls of hair lined the baseboards.
I walked into the bathroom.
My fingers fumbled for the light switch. I missed it and was too lazy to try again.
I liked the lights off anyway.
The bathroom sink looked clean.
The toilet, if I didn’t look too closely, was fine.
The tile floor was spotless, and no ring around the tub in sight.
I walked over to my toilet,
Pulled down my sweats,
And placed my ass on the brim to take my morning shit.
I heard the neighbor’s music blasting. They'd turned on their shower and started singing along to whatever pop song was leaking through these paper-thin walls.
I just needed a bit of peace this morning. But I guess life couldn't afford me that much.
My head throbbed. My vision flashed white dots on the back of my closed eyelids.
I grabbed the pill bottle sitting on the counter sink next to me and flipped the lid. The last ounce of spit in my dry mouth was hard to muster. Four pills met my tongue, and I swallowed them. Bitter was the taste.
The slow movement of the pills traveling down my throat was as if I had lodged a tube deep within, preventing myself from speaking. Like I was barely breathing. Like I was barely living.
I propped my arms on my knees and laid my head in my palms.
I must have gone to sleep or just lost track of time because my neighbor’s music had gone silent. There was a high-pitched squeal from their shower faucet snapping off.
That was my queue to finish.
I wiped my ass and flushed the toilet.
As I washed my hands, I noticed I hadn’t replaced the paper towels. I could reach under my sink and grab the paper towels underneath the cabinet. But I didn’t. Instead, I dried my hands on three-day-old bedclothes and turned away.
"Fuck this." I raised a stiff finger to the base of the light switch.
Flip it on!
One motion, that’s all it took. One motion to reveal the filthy bathroom sink, shit-stained toilet, and the brown ring around the tub. Dust and dead skin covered the tile floors. Black balls of hair lined the baseboards.
Weeks of accumulated grime and filth.
I can fix this,
I can fix it.
I---
I balled my trembling fingers into a fist and let it drop to my side.
With a breath I could not release, I walked out of the bathroom and shut the door behind me.
---------------
If you are struggling with mental health, please do not be afraid to seek help.
I love you. I hear you. You are seen.
If you or someone you know is struggling or in crisis, help is available. Call or text 988 or chat 988lifeline.org. You can also reach Crisis Text Line by texting MHA to 741741.
