Anonymous
An experience like no other.
Pain I’ve never felt.
Pain I never want to feel again.
I sat, she cried.
I couldn’t help her; she did not want to be helped. That Hurt.
I watched as the person I knew, the person I loved, the person I respected most, lost all will to go on.
I was helpless; I could do nothing.
I wanted to help, I couldn’t, she wouldn’t let me in.
We sat.
Hours passed, tears flowed, few words were spoken.
I had so many questions to ask but they were questions she did not want to answer.
She sat, motionless, like a doll in the chair.
No expression, no warmth, no love, no humanity.
I reached for her hand for reassurance, I waited for the squeeze, there was nothing.
Shocked, hurt, resentful, I pulled my hand back to myself.
Why didn’t she respond? Where had she gone?
Lost. Lost in her own world, oblivious to my presence.
I waited, I talked, I cried, I questioned. Nothing.
Hours passed. Nothing changed.
She tried to talk but couldn’t, words did not form.
We sat in silence.
I drank tea, she couldn’t.
I read the paper, she couldn’t, her eyes were fixed on the floor.
I spoke, my words fell on deaf ears.
I ran out of energy.
I sat too, motionless.
Finally though she spoke, her voice quiet and subdued.
Her face was full of fear; the sparkle in her eye had been enveloped in a bleak darkness.
Her body was lifeless. She was tired. She was empty.
She told me she was scared.
I wept.
She told me of her fear of talking; her fear of people; her fear of life.
I sobbed.
She told me that she had given up.
I cried.
She told me she could not face living.
I howled.
I was confused.
I had heard of this ‘thing’ depression before, but had obviously never understood it.
I still don’t.
I witnessed it, I did not experience it.
It is an illness like no other. Destructive, demoralising, devaluing, dehumanising.
It is an enemy which cannot be seen but exhibits the upmost control.
It finds you weak and it takes advantage.
It pushes you further and further into a black hole.
It provides no escape route.
It turns a human into a ‘thing’, a person into a lifeless soul, and, in my experience, a mother into a stranger.
The task was to write creatively about an important meeting of some kind. Very recently, my mother was diagnosed with clinical depression. I have spent many hours just sitting with her; a lot of the time in silence, trying to understand what she is feeling. It has been hard. My mother, the person I have come to respect most in my life, seems little more than a helpless child. Roles have been reversed and I have had to engage in looking after her; something which did not come naturally.
Writing this piece was actually extremely helpful. I have not previously thought of writing as a way of expressing my emotions, but having done so I will definitely use it in the future. It seemed a great deal easier than talking to people about this sensitive issue, or trying to make sense of things in my head alone. It allowed me to process my feelings in an ordered, but not constrained, fashion.
To my surprise, I found the exercise both useful and enjoyable.
A very honest, personal and moving description of the difficulties faced when a loved one is suffering with depression. Interesting that despite the author’s initial reservations, the writing of the poem has seemed constructive and cathartic.
This poem encapsulates the fact that depression is more than just ‘feeling sad’- and that it is an illness in its own right- an illness like no other- that it changes a person, and stops them from living their life. The perspective of a relative, rather than a patient, helps to illustrate the wider impacts of depression, and how it is an illness that is very difficult for others (who have not experienced it) to understand. I think that the use of short sentences is very effective in demonstrating how depression fractures your life; it almost mimics the fact that you cannot really have a proper conversation with someone who has depression, due to the way in which it snatches their personality, and emotions. As well as this, I believe that the large number of lines in this poem reflects the reality that depression is a long battle. As the reader, it makes me empathise with the endless struggle of the author to re-discover and help her mum. The honesty and evident raw emotions exhibited in this poem make it a very moving read.