Something I wrote a while ago, glad I'm not there anymore

Depression – my subjective experience

Time seems to slow down in this place. Only the barest, tiny murmurings of anything seem to exist dulled somehow by the even thud in my head. The urge to do anything seemingly nudged from my consciousness and mindless monotonous activities fill my time.
My brain seems disconnected somehow, areas which house memory and useful information have shut down leaving a void for rush of self defeating emotion. That which brought joy seems mundane, laughter is a fantasy and fulfillment left empty at every level. Silence drowned by negative fear driven thought fills the spaces between the spaces. No stopping it, no solving it, no solution at hand so just wait it out. Every second wasted brings with it new guilt heaped on guilt of years past.
Can’t remember where anything is anymore, can’t recollect why I entered the room in the first place, just bewildered spinning looking for vague clue that drove the action in the first place. Leave the room, brain searching for answers, they flood in and the action gets repeated.
Then there are the floods of emotion, sadness, anger, fear disgust and shame all at once. Body responds at gut level and the tsunami rises from intestines rushing headlong to my chest. As if in perfect rhythm, my heart starts to pound faster and the veins in my neck take strain. Breathing more shallow and tangible heart beat in chest and throat force me to hold my breath in the vain hope it will stop. It doesn’t and the deep pounding becomes more intense and emotion grips my throat tighter and tighter.
Brain screaming now, intensely searching for a way out, but thoughts race down unwanted all too familiar unhappy alleys. Narrowed vision and dull ears make it harder to look to the light, mind preferring dark quiet corner to hide.
Thoughts rush round like water emptying from a basin, swirling down gathering momentum. Gurgling they rush down the plug hole of unfulfilled dreams, lost chances and bad choices all gathered into one tornado of hurt. Unlike a basin the swirling doesn’t stop, the basin never empties.
Find a distraction for a second, find anything to stop the wild horse charge of emotion that chokes my throat, strangling it in a vice grip that starts a pain in my temples and creates a pit in my stomach. Do anything, do nothing, just make it stop. Yet it will not be stopped, will not be slowed, will not be deterred. Nothing changes, all seems the same, just the noise gets more dulled in its loudness.
Writing it down helps but does not change the vacuum that draws blackness towards me, black on black, deeper black on deeper black. Layers of black, each one blacker than the one before, darkening with each moment. Violent storms within the layered dark erupt in teary eyed throat choking mind spasms.

Glad I wrote it, sad I know how.