The Invisible Monster Devouring Me from Within

Confessions of a Prisoner of Depression…

We were leaving work, my colleague and I. The day had been long, the kind that seems to suck all the energy from your body and soul. As we walked through the parking lot, I noticed she was quieter than usual. Her eyes, normally lively and bright, seemed dull, as if a gray cloud had settled over them.

“Is everything okay?” I asked, trying not to sound intrusive.

She stopped suddenly, the car keys jingling in her trembling hand. She turned to me, and I saw something in her eyes that made me freeze. It was a mixture of despair and exhaustion that I had never seen before.

“No,” she replied, her voice almost a whisper. “Nothing is okay.”

That’s when the words began to pour out, as if a dam had burst inside her.

“I hate depression so damn much,” she said, the words coming out in a bitter tone that caught me off guard. “It has consistently ruined my life for years, and yet I can’t escape it.”

I stood there, petrified, listening to my coworker, the woman I saw every day with a smile on her face, describe the personal hell she was living in.

“It’s always waiting, you know?” she continued, her eyes fixed on a distant point. “Under…