I think I know what depression feels like. It’s like trying to swim in a big, dark, glittering, midnight sea; an encompassing, glittering darkness of splashing water. A pitchblack, star spangled sky above you merging with the blackness of the ocean. Like crawling your way into an obsidian rock; holding a microcosmos, a universe within. Holding a stillness, besides the gentle chuckle of the waves, that you cannot escape. That you try to find your way through; holding yourself just above water, struggling, swallowing water when you try to shout, swimming without direction, finding a lonely buoy every now and then to cling to before it disappears again. Caught in an endless ocean, an endless night. The stars are your only guidelines but you never learned to read them and their billion of years old souls. They are so far away, light years away, once in a while burning out and – jumping. You hold staunchly onto yourself, refusing to drown, yet feel lost, helpless in this surrounding sameness; thinking this must be eternity. Until it is no more. No more … The darkness blinds you to that possibility. Both to seize it and wait for it. And so, you just float around.