When simple words don’t seem to serve justice to the depth of darkness that depression brings, perhaps a metaphor will better suffice, will give a better picture of how it really feels.
Like a storm, a hurricane, like being lost out at sea, surrounded by a flood of apathy and despondency, or caught in a raging tempest.
With dark thoughts so loud they thunder in my ears, and anxiety so strong it blinds like lightning.
And the crushing rain that just won’t stop pouring, until my skins stops feeling the shock of the cold, and numbness sets in instead.
There is one who has the power to tell the storm to be still, yet the storm rages on with no end in sight.
There is one who has the power to part the sea in two, yet I continue to be pulled down, gasping for breath before the waves overwhelm me once more.
There is one who walked out upon the water and took hold of his friend before he fell under.
Sometimes the night is so dark that I cannot see him.
Yet I know it to be true that he is there, and that he will lead me by the hand through the waves that wash over me.
The Lilies of the Field 