Depression, is a day at the beach. Not the beach itself, or the sand, or the shells… or the little creatures, or the rock-pools in which they find their home. But in the waves themselves I see depression. In the water, which can be so fierce. One day to be fine… then crash, the next horrible… and CRASH another day of meaningless life. CRASH, the depression overflows. Pulls you under… Deep into the water. Way over your head. The sand, harshly scratches your eyes, it’s in your hair… in your mouth. You are dashed against the sandy sea bed… tumbling tumbling…Then released for a short while. Your head is spinning, while you try and find the surface, fight for breath. There must be air here somewhere. Then you can breath again, you can see the shore… so close. You can see the sun. You breath in deep, and CRASH… Suddenly you are under again, you breath in salty water… Where did all the air go to. And you fight, but the power dragging you down is so great. It is an endless cycle, will you never be able to get out of this. The water surrounding you, pulls you deeper. You have two choices… Fight, or drown…