Ecstasy
Draco returned to the coffee shop where his journey of freedom had begun, but this time, the atmosphere felt heavier. The warm scent of coffee and the murmur of conversations were still there, but they seemed distant, almost muted by the fog of his thoughts. It was open mic night once again, a night that had once symbolized hope and new beginnings.
As he waited for his turn, Draco felt the weight of his depression pressing down on him. Though he was free in many ways, he realized he was still trapped within his own mind. The battles he fought internally were invisible to others, but they were relentless and exhausting.
When his name was called, Draco walked to the stage with a heavy heart. The applause from the audience felt like a distant echo. He stood before the microphone, searching for the words that had once come so easily. The familiar faces in the crowd looked at him expectantly, unaware of the turmoil inside him.
He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his struggles but also the faint glimmer of hope that performing had always given him. As he began to speak, his voice wavered but carried the raw truth of his experience.
“Depression is my ecstasy.”
He starts of slowly not knowing if his words will be right.
“It tells me I’m alive and feeling when I want to die. The depression feels no bounds for who I am for who I want to be. 21 years old the only thoughts that race my mind are I never want this feeling to end then there’s a crash.”
It’s been a while he thought to himself when he first left his own personal hell. He’d performed several times since then but now he could hardly get out of bed.
“For a moment a breath can no longer be heard by those truly. Questions swarm in a sea of forgetfulness. Don’t Answer the questions the voice says nagging in my brain. Be carful of who you are today. I’ll take over for a moment or two but then you’ll be back wishing the tremors in your hands are gone. Shallow breaths keep you holding on. It’s okay if you vomit the voice says your heart won’t beat out of your chest.”
Part of his issue was he had felt like dying and for the longest time. It came calling to him. Was this all he was born to do. Be caged in by his father and now his own mind.
“I could die with the regrets of yesterday. I could stay for another day fixing the wrongs of past mistakes. One moment a stop in time all you have to do is concede the voice says so friendly so sweet. The depression is part of you its ecstasy frees and tears walls built down to be brought back up to make the voice stop. Echos of its voice tremble inside you. Calling whispers of sweet nothings a lover that awaits. Coaxing you. Threatens you. Ignores you for days on end. Finally it stops. But then the high starts all again.”
He poured his heart out, sharing not just his journey of freedom but also the pain and darkness that had followed.
The audience listened intently, and for a moment, Draco felt a connection—a reminder that even in his darkest moments, he was not alone. The coffee shop, once a place of beginnings, now served as a testament to his resilience, a place where he could confront his demons and find strength in his vulnerability.