Swallowed by darkness – I would have preferred a classroom for my test. The cold of the blackness laid its scary fingers around me and my body was flooded with the breath of fear, from adrenalin to all the other stuff signalizing danger to my brain. But I know this place, for I have been here so often, I could call it home. A pair of glowing eyes appeared – that was new. “Find your way!”, a voice echoed through my head.

I knew, I had to be quick. As I felt all hope draining out, I hurried to set my shields of protection. First, the choir of reality: “This is a trick! Don’t belief depression! Everything is good! Daijoubu! It will go away! These feelings aren’t real! It is just darkness, you love darkness! You are strong!” Such a hurry! “This is a trick! You will survive! Don’t move!” I could feel it coming, rolling in deep thunder – the wave of hurting memories, crying out loud, as it struck me; crying out the diamond question: “Why?”

I was still awake enough to know the answer. The answer is depression. It makes you feel like all is lost, independent of what the truth might be. Still I am tricked so often, but not this time!

Time for weaponry! I am used to exercise my little army of good memories as often as I can, so I called for them. The flaming leaves of autumn, the melody of the wind, the song of flute, the laughter of golden hours and yes, the beating drums of Yoshiki and everything else, I could come up with. I have to find my way, I remembered, so I dared to move. I came one step before the claw hit me; just bursting through my chest, grabbing my heart with it’s cruel grip. I screamed, till I couldn’t find breath anymore, gasping trying to remember, what to do. The grip was strong, so I called out for my strongest of dreams to battle against it. My old comrades saved me and my new muse was with them. There was breath again and there was a light – a lilac shimmer, saving me. So I stood up, shook off the last bits of struggle and felt human again. That was quick, I thought by myself.

I could have walked out of there, but I heard something. There was something else in the dark, something new – and this time it wasn’t a pair of glowing eyes. Getting clearer with every step I took, I heard someone struggling, sobbing, gasping. On the darkest spot I could find, there was a suffering soul, cowered in pain. “Hello there! Can I help you?”, I offered, but whoever it was, could not answer. I reached in the blackness and found a child sized back to stroke and a shoulder to hold. “It’s a trick”, I said out loud, what I say to myself so often. “Don’t trust the feelings down here, they might not be yours.” I embraced the child and tried to calm it with the all time hit-sentences of comfort like: “Everything’s gonna be alright”, “You are not alone” and “Everything is good”. But there was no response to these classics whatsoever. So one thing was clear: I had to improve my comforting style.


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