Do you know what it feels like to step out of a warm, relaxing shower into the chill winter air filling your bathroom? That's what it feels like for me when I wake up every day. My name is Sam Winchester, and for the first time I'm willing to put it down in writing: I have severe depression.
It's funny, in a sick way, how life goes on. Day after day, I want to just fade away, and the whole world is oblivious to my pain. The world keeps spinning, even though it feels like it's crashing down around me. In the morning, I struggle to get out of bed. I force breakfast down my throat and go about my day. All the while feeling empty, all the while feeling a crushing, painful nothingness inside. All the while I lack the energy to do almost anything besides keep Dean from seeing. Because depression isn't something big brother can just patch up and make all better.
Depression is a dark pit inside the menace that is my own mind, and the guilt that I feel because there is nothing really wrong with me. It hurts so badly inside that sometimes I want to shout it from the rooftops in a twisted bid to make someone, anyone else understand what I'm going through. But then I calm down and try to tell myself I'm alright. After all, nothing is broken or bloodied.
And in my family, that's what we care about. So Dean doesn't need to see these signs of weakness. Dean has enough things to think about, and Dean has enough issues of his own.
Sometimes it gets really bad, and I don't know why. Sometimes it just hits me and I want to scream, or cry, or just lie in bed all day. I wish I could explain it. But then again, who would I tell anyways? Dean would say to buck up and get over it. Maybe, if I was lucky, he'd hand me a drink and let me talk it out for a little while. Never for long enough. Because in this family, we don't talk about feelings. We don't tell each other we love each other or that we're there for each other. Even when that's the thing you need to hear most in the world.
Depression hurts in every way. It feels like my insides are aching. I've started getting terrible migraines. I can't sleep at night, and when I do, I have nightmares and try my best not to wake Dean. My whole body just… hurts. Not only am I giving up on myself, so is my body. But I think the scariest thing is feeling nothing at all. I'm used to feeling sad, but when everything fades away, what's left? The numbness is worse than anything, and those are the times when I'm a little more careless during hunts. Everything is a blur. Dean's words bounce right off of me, my reflexes are slowed… and to be honest, when I end up hurt it's almost nice to feel something… Anything at all.
Maybe Mom would have understood this. Hell, maybe Mom went through something like this once. I may not have known her, but from the stories Dean has told… I know that she would listen. I know that she would be sympathetic and not judge me. I know that she would love me no matter what. And I know that she would do her best to help. But Mom is gone, and God knows that I can't talk about this shit with anyone else.
Dean, part of me wishes you knew. I wish you could save me from drowning. I wish you could save me from myself.
But instead, I'll keep sinking lower and lower into the darkness.