Depression/Anxiety are like the basement of a horror movie… Listen to the audience, “Don’t go down there!”

I love a good horror movie now and again. Which being someone who suffers from anxiety and depression you might think, “well theirs your problem dumbass.” That’s not the case though. After the roller coaster rides over, it makes you think.

In the spirit of Halloween I’ve been binge watching some scary movies. Watching one in particular as well as dealing with financial stress it occurred to me how I combat depression and anxiety.

In a lot of horror movies there is always a dark hallway, eerie forest, a mysterious room. That either forces the character(s) through as a trap or there’s other worldly forces at work. Drawing them in for the kill. Sometimes as a spoof it’s just a damn cat.

To me though that’s what anxiety and depression feels like. Your drawn or forced downwards into this pitch black basement. You know what’s down there isn’t good. You’ve seen the cliche a hundred times. But there’s something down there. As you take your first step down your girlfriend screams, “You don’t have to do this! we can figure something out.” Your too fixated to tell her it’ll be alright. She turns away into her brothers arms. She’s seen the cliche too. “Fuck him, it’s too late.” her brother say’s defiantly.

Your half way down the stair case and the flash light goes out. Your determined. You need to know what’s causing this chaos. proceeding even slower. The door slams shut behind you. A swinging light fixture flickers on. Your at a loss for words. What stands in front of you? A white lie that mutated into some abomination. An ugly truth deformed. Maybe in reality there’s nothing at all. it’s all been conjured up by paranoia. Perhaps it’s you standing in front of a mirror after blacking out. Your hand has a weight to it. Averting your eye’s from the cracked mirror looking down at a bloody weapon. The door swings open it’s your girlfriend and her brother are here to help. They see what’s in your hand. It was you all long. “Your the monster!”

Despite that melodramatic metaphor. I’m a pretty happy guy. Every once in a while I’ll get this sensation that life will never move forward and I’ll never escape these dark corridor’s. But you have to be the character that despite all odds is trying to out think the psycho. Taking what’s in front of them breaking the windows to escape. Don’t be the sexy blonde character crying out for her boyfriend to save her. Letting the slasher know where she is. “This isn’t funny where are you?” Thumping into a large torso behind her. “Is that you?” She turns around discovering it’s the machete wielding maniac. Be a Laurie, Nancy Thompson, Ripley. Because nobody can save you from yourself.

 

 

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