Barlow Girl & thoughts on depression

So, this is my kick right now - delving into song lyrics, describing what certain songs mean to me - deal. I was chatting with a friend the other day, and he said he wants to incorporate some of my, um, statements, I guess? into music. Which I think is totally...strange. And flattering! But, I mean, this whole blog is basically stream-of-consciousness. The stuff that comes out is normally what I'm thinking at a particular point in time, due to how I feel surrounding certain circumstances. It's normally about my health or depression, since those are the two strongest factors in my life right now, but it can be about anything.

Ok, to the song. This group is a Christian chick group, and I don't normally dig regular Christian music, for some reason, but this group is actually ok. How did I find them? Oh yeah, one night while I was driving back from "somewhere," perusing the stereo for something to listen to, I heard this song, and I started crying so hard, I actually had to pull over on the side of the road to give myself time to regroup. AGAIN, I apologize for any stereotypical or proverbial stuff you've heard before. But this IS my blag. What are you doing on the computer this time of the day anyway?

Sorry - anyway, this song is exactly what happened to me when my depression dealt it's final, controlling blow in my life. I just walked out. And, I remember regretting it even before I did it. I even remember how the ground felt under my fingers. I remember everything about that day. It's one thing I've always wished, for the sake of my sanity, I could forget.

Barlow Girl - She Walked Away

She couldn't take one more day
Home was more her prison now
Independence called out
She had to get it

A fight was all she needed
To give her reason
She slammed the door with no goodbye
And knew that it was time

Now she's driving too fast
She didn't care to glance behind
And through her tears she laughed
It's time to kiss the past goodbye

I'm finally on my own
Don't try to tell me no
There's so much more for me
Just watch what I will be

She walked away
Couldn't say why she was leaving
She walked away
She left all she had believed in
She walked away

Not a day goes by
For the one she's left behind
They're always asking why
And thoughts of her consume their mind

God please let her know
The love we tried to show
We'd promise anything
If you'd just bring her home

Tell her we love her
Tell her she's wanted
One more thing God
Tell her please come home
Please come home

The choice is yours alone now
Tell me how this story ends

I know people like to think they can relate to me and say they know where I'm coming from or understand how I feel, when I talk about my depression. But I try to keep myself from every saying that to anyone - EVER. I can only say I can vaguely relate, or I've felt similar feelings. But, no one can ever experience what YOU yourself are going through when you're going through something as all-consuming and panoptic as your own depression. I can't explain how it makes someone else feel, probably not even myself - it grips every aspect of every thought that enters your mind; it seeps into your bloodstream, inundating every single thing that makes you whole, inside and out; it poisons and distorts every memory you've ever had; the feeling of worthlessness and sadness is so profound, you wonder how people can continue to function, when there's so much that is sad in the world.

Sometimes you become so numb to the pain, so dead to the world around you, you don't think you'll ever feel anything other than absolute sorrow or have another sane thought ever again. Then there are times that the pain is so wracking, you beg and pray for the numbess to come again, plead for it to take over, just so you can stop crying and hurting long enough to take a breath.

There were days where when I'd managed to pass out from sheer exhaustion and crying so much, that I'd wake up and wonder if I'd always felt this way. Was there anything before this? Who was I? And why do people keep loving me, after all I've done and been?

There's a reason that I try to walk on eggshells when trying to describe something as intimidating as depression. Peoples' words and descriptions can come out all wrong and sometimes tend to make it sound so trite. It's all individually appreciated. No one person's experiences are ever the same as another person's. What you might have felt during something such as a tragedy, for instance, will never be the same exact feelings reproduced in another person. You can have similar overall emotions, but your thoughts are determined by who you are, what has shaped you as an individual. Each person's experiences are important to them, but rarely to other people. Not that people don't care, but they care more about the individual as a whole, rather than a single experience.

See, even now, when I try to put it into words, it sounds all wrong. But see, that's part of what's great about being people and having the ability to think for ourselves - we can learn and teach and enlighten. It bugs the crap out of me when others try to force their beliefs on people, but that's a whole different bedtime story, so let's not get into that.

Sorry - I know I've been bombarding my own site with posts. But I have to take it as it comes. It's a lot, but it sure helps put me at ease, when I'm able to get it out of my head, even briefly.

And, now I'm hungry. And, it's freezing as crap in here. And, I've got a hell of a headache, which is nothing new. I've, obviously, got a lot on my mind, and amazingly enough, under all this hair, there isn't enough room in my fat head to store all this stuff neatly. Grrr.... I need some major Ikea for the brain. Mine looks like Donald Duck's brain from that cartoon where he goes to Mathemagic Land. I love that show. And, I hate math.

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