Hard to See

A hand full of people can see it in my face or hear it in my voice, but for the most part it is invisible.

Holidays are a hard time to hide it. I try, but at a gathering you will usually find me silent in the same
spot I sat or stood in since I came through the door. When I try to add to conversations my voice is
not heard, when I walk toward the middle of the action, I am not seen. My small steps become big failures and I retreat, 

I am alone, but not by choice. It's similar to the scene in the movie where someone is at the end of the corridor and the hallway grows longer and longer. If I made it to the end and opened the door I would surely fall into oblivion. This thought gives me comfort. 

People that don't suffer from depression don't understand it. They think it's weird, and it is. It overwhelms me sometimes unexpectedly. Even if I know what brings it on it doesn't mean I can control it.

Next time you see someone sitting alone or silent take two seconds to acknowledge them. So they don't start believing they are invisible. 

Feeling invisible is a side effect of depression. If you don't exist, you cannot be loved or appreciated, heard or validated. You feel as if you don't belong, you are not necessary. 

A simple look, smile, wink, touch, or word can make a difference.

Feeling unnecessary leads to hopelessness and despair.

I will be here when you are ready.