Crying with antidepressants

It’s something…peculiar. You can feel that place below your eyes like the bottom of the sea, calmed, but at the same time trying to get out through every pore of your skin, pushing away any feeling of comfort, trying to get rid of this sadness just as a wild river would sink and push to the shore everything that doesn’t belong, but you can’t.

It’s an interrupted stream, a lock on every window, a hole in the roof you can’t reach. I want waves, I want a rising tide, a storm in my eyes, I want rain, shipwrecks, stranded whales, broken shells. I want to feel my insides pouring through my eyelids, I want to see every piece of trash I have in me, I want to empty myself again and again as a constant violent act of self-consciousness. Instead, I have this moments of anxiety, like pushing a button that works for nothing.

But when it does, cities flood, rain hurts, oceans rise and I, I go back to the bottom of the sea, where everything is in silence.

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