This Distracted Body

Claire Stone
2 min readJan 6, 2021

Lately I’ve chosen to think of myself as distracted, rather than depressed. The term holds too much weight.

I never really thought about depression before my freshman year of college, I never thought that would be me. I guess it is now though. I find myself asking, am I more than that? Is this it? I get distracted by those thoughts.

I’m distracted by my own brain, unmotivated, unable to truly feel passionate about anything, let alone anyone. Occasionally including myself.

I’m distracted by the friends I do have. I’m distracted by the friends I don’t.

I’m distracted by stupid things, like tv, youtube videos.

I’m distracted by sadness, by music, bringing emotions I didn’t know I had.

I sometimes get enveloped in a type of sadness that I don’t know what to do with, I don’t know how to make it go away and I just have to let it in. But, when I let it in, I always feel like I’m taking steps backward. No matter how many steps I regain I still feel stagnant. I want to change but don’t have the motivation to make the change.

I keep myself from getting better.

I’m distracted by other people’s art, making it harder to produce my own, making mine feel worse, less important.

I’m distracted by my bed, keeping me laying there for much longer than I should be.

I’m distracted by what you’re doing, wondering if its better than what I’m doing.

--

--