The black dog was always there. It followed me everywhere I went, lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce. I could never see it clearly, but I knew it was there. It was the depression.

It started slowly. At first, I just felt a little bit down. I didn’t want to go out, and I didn’t enjoy the things I used to. But then, it got worse. I started to have trouble sleeping, thinking, and existing, and I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I felt worthless and hopeless.

I tried to fight it, but the black dog was too strong. It knocked me down, and I couldn’t get back up. I stopped going to work, and I stopped seeing my friends. I just stayed in all day, feeling sorry for myself.

I was trapped in my house. I had a chronic illness that made it difficult for me to move around, and I had a social anxiety disorder that made it difficult for me to interact with people. I was also experiencing a functional neurological event that made it impossible for me to leave my house.

I felt like I was all alone. I didn’t know how to get better. I thought about self-harm as the only answer right now. A way to release the pain and feel something else. Even just of a second.

One day, I was lying on the sofa, feeling sorry for myself, when I heard a voice.

“You’re not alone,” the voice said.

I looked up, and I saw a figure standing in the doorway. It was a woman, and she was wearing a white dress.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I’m the light,” she said. “I’m here to help you see through the darkness.”

The woman came over to me and stood next to the edge of my sofa. She took my hand, and she looked into my eyes.

“You’re not worthless,” she said. “You’re not hopeless. You’re a valuable person, and you deserve to be happy.”

The woman’s words touched me deeply. I started to cry.

“Thank you,” I said. “I needed to hear that.”

The woman smiled. “You’re welcome,” she said. “Now, it’s time for you to see the light.”

The woman moved closer, and she held out her hand. I took her hand, and she led me out of the lounge. We walked through the house, and we stepped outside.

The sun was shining, and the birds were singing. I took a deep breath, and I felt the warmth of the sun on my face.

“I can see the light,” I said.

The woman smiled. “I knew you could,” she said. “Now, go and live your life.”

The woman turned and walked away, and I watched her go. I knew that I would never forget her. She had helped me to see the light, and she had given me hope.

I turned and walked back into my house. I was still feeling a little bit down, but I knew that I was going to be okay. I had seen the light, and I knew that there was hope for me.

The black dog was always there. It followed me everywhere I went, lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce. I could never see it clearly, but I knew it was there. It was the depression.It started slowly. At first, I just felt a little bit down. I didn’t want to go out with my friends, and I didn’t enjoy the things I used to. But then, it got worse. I started to have trouble sleeping, and I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I felt worthless and hopeless.I tried to fight it, but the black dog was too strong. It knocked me down, and I couldn’t get back up. I stopped going to work, and I stopped seeing my friends. I just stayed in bed all day, feeling sorry for myself.I was trapped in my house. I had a chronic illness that made it difficult for me to move around, and I had a social anxiety disorder that made it difficult for me to interact with people. I was also experiencing a functional neurological event that made it impossible for me to leave my house.I felt like I was all alone. I didn’t know how to get better. I thought about self-harm as the only answer right now.One day, I was lying in bed, feeling sorry for myself, when I heard a voice.”You’re not alone,” the voice said.I looked up, and I saw a figure standing in the doorway. It was a woman, and she was wearing a white dress.”Who are you?” I asked.”I’m the light,” she said. “I’m here to help you see through the darkness.”The woman came over to me and sat down on the edge of my bed. She took my hand, and she looked into my eyes.”You’re not worthless,” she said. “You’re not hopeless. You’re a valuable person, and you deserve to be happy.”The woman’s words touched me deeply. I started to cry.”Thank you,” I said. “I needed to hear that.”The woman smiled. “You’re welcome,” she said. “Now, it’s time for you to see the light.”The woman stood up, and she held out her hand. I took her hand, and she led me out of the bedroom. We walked through the house, and we stepped outside.The sun was shining, and the birds were singing. I took a deep breath, and I felt the warmth of the sun on my face.”I can see the light,” I said.The woman smiled. “I knew you could,” she said. “Now, go and live your life.”The woman turned and walked away, and I watched her go. I knew that I would never forget her. She had helped me to see the light, and she had given me hope.I turned and walked back into my house. I was still feeling a little bit down, but I knew that I was going to be okay. I had seen the light, and I knew that there was hope for me.

Then I woke up. The feeling of depression slowly started to spread until it was all I could think about. I tried to focus on the dream, I tried really hard but the pain and constant reminder of what my life is blocked the light from shining through. It was a nightmare. Tormenting me that things could get better. The person on the other end of the phone yesterday said that self-harm serves a purpose and if it ultimately stops me from taking the final action then it’s a means to an end. Except I know its not. I want to, so badly, but I don’t think I could stop if I did. Maybe hurting my arm with something that no one can see would help. I’m scared of the reaction. It’s not like anyone sees me naked. Not that they would ever want to anyway.