I walked around in one of two ways depending on the severity of the day. I either walked slow and along the wall, or fast and a little bit away from the wall, though I always watched the ground. For a time, I would stare straight ahead, and not look at the faces of the people around me. No one ever asked how I was doing.
I would think darkly, but I never gave up on God. I always had my faith, regardless of how strongly I felt it. There were times that I knew it existed but did not care enough to reach out, or believe that help could come to me. The poetry I wrote expressed much about how I thought and felt during a certain span of time. My older poetry posts here products of this time.
Poetry was beautiful, and I was able to use it as a tool to express myself in a way people could understand, because poetry is supposed to be layered and that is how I communicated during the darker times. The stories and poems from that time were so important and needed, for they were the only outlets I had for expression.
Depression is so complicated though, and I could likely go on and on about my experiences with it.