The shades were drawn in the sad, dark room. It was the middle of a beautiful spring day, and although the sun was out, there was no cheer inside the cocoon of despair Monica found herself.
She hadn’t left her room for days. She could only lay on her tear and sweat-soaked bed clutching her pillow. Even getting up to use the bathroom drained her. She had no energy, no fire, and no will to go on.
A crippling depression had sunk its grip deep into Monica’s brain and would not let go. There seemed to be no escape. Even worse, when the depression seemed to lift, paralyzing anxiety struck. The fear gripped her with its icy fingers and caused everything to become a problem. Small things built into huge issues, and everyday tasks were impossible.
Her inability to manage the anxiety depressed her, and in her depression… she hid. A vicious cycle that was stuck on repeat. It was even exacerbated by her doctor’s attempt to treat her symptoms with the psychotropic drugs.
There she lay day after day closed to the world. Closed to her husband and cut off from living life. In the room’s darkness, there was no judgment and no one to see her suffering.
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