His name was Hamlet. Hamlet found life to be a sterile promontory, and the air a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. His whole demeanor changed for depression had found him. He even wishes that he himself could die and in dying find peace from all the calamities in life. How can someone be such that they find life repugnant and long for death? Its shown quite plainly within Hamlets words. The mind is where the world is transformed into a land of darkness and shadow, a place where dreams die and nightmares come alive. I really think that I lost some of my childhood when my father died. Slowly but surely my life gave way to the dreaming of my mind and life itself became a nightmare. My dreams were living death, morbid fantasy and nocturnal wake. A world lost of color, hope and love, lost to the subconscious functions of the brain. Clinical depression is merely the over or under production of neurological molecules which affect ones mood. Its frightening what an overproduction of depressed neuro-transmitters will do to a person. I was alone. Wherever I went I always was confined to the omniscience of my ever present thoughts. Even when I was around others I was alone.
Who was in control? I still am unsure whether I controlled my mind or it controlled me. Eventually I grew socially and acquired a few friends. I was happy sometimes but afterwards would always follow a deep recession. I could never prolong joy. At length I decided that if I couldnt be happy most of the time then I would attempt to be sad all the time. This seeming like a logical conclusion I thus attempted to be the best depressed individual that I could be. I lost myself in music which gave me a pathway through which to vent my frustration and sorrow. I continued to spend time with my friends but with always this persona of what a depressed person should be like in mind. God Himself seemed to have left life up to me and seemingly took no part in mine.