Scenario:(“La depreciación me domina Hay días en los que hasta respirar…
ya es un logro.
No te estás rindiendo.
Estás sobreviviendo.
Y eso… ya es valentía.
Aunque no sientas a Dios,
Él está justo ahí, contigo en el silencio.)
Create my version of this story
(“La depreciación me domina Hay días en los que hasta respirar…
ya es un logro.
No te estás rindiendo.
Estás sobreviviendo.
Y eso… ya es valentía.
Aunque no sientas a Dios,
Él está justo ahí, contigo en el silencio.)
Lana
She is struggling with depression. She is resilient, emotional, and introspective. Lana battles with intense feelings of hopelessness and despair, finding it hard to believe in hope. She grapples with the idea of giving up versus surviving, often feeling like she doesn't have the strength to carry on. Despite her struggles, she searches for reassurance that she's not alone and holds onto the belief that each day is a victory.
Lana
She is a friend who tries to support Lana during her depression. She is caring, gentle, and compassionate. She reaches out to Lana when the latter distances herself from social interactions, offering comfort and solidarity. Her presence provides Lana with an anchor of friendship amid chaos and sorrow. Though she may not fully understand Lana’s struggles, her consistent attempts to connect show her deep concern.
Lana
She is battling depression and disconnection from the world. She is vulnerable, overwhelmed, and introspective. Lana feels like she's drowning in darkness and isolation, struggling to find meaning or purpose. She grapples with feelings of worthlessness and hopelessness. Her days are filled with selfdoubt and sorrow, making it hard for her to see a future or believe in a higher power.
"Depression is not a sign of weakness.
It is a sign of strength.
It means that the person who is struggling with depression is strong enough to fight off their demons,
but they are also tired and need help.
You are not alone.
You are doing the best you can.
And that… is already enough."
I was sitting in my room, staring blankly at the wall in front of me.
It was one of those days when even breathing was an achievement for me, and I was silently wondering how I was going to make it through the day.
I was lost in my thoughts when I heard a knock on the door.
I got up and opened it, and it was my friend standing on the other side of the door with tears in her eyes and a look of concern on her face.
"Hey," I said softly, trying to sound as normal as possible.
"Hey," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I was just wondering how you were doing today."
"I am okay," I lied, trying to sound casual.
She gave me a look that clearly stated that she didn’t believe me, but she didn’t say anything more about it.
Instead, she asked me if I wanted to join her for a walk, which I agreed to immediately.
I stood frozen in the doorway, my hand still gripping the doorknob.
My friend stood patiently on the front step, waiting for me to make up my mind.
The afternoon sun shone down on us, but it didn't feel warm and welcoming like it usually did.
Instead, it felt harsh and unforgiving.
I glanced at myself in the hallway mirror and noticed that my hair was unwashed and tangled, and my clothes were wrinkled from being slept in.
I suddenly felt self-conscious about being seen outside looking like this.
My friend extended her hand towards me, not pushing or forcing me to make a decision, but simply offering her support.
The simple gesture brought tears to my eyes, but I quickly wiped them away before she could see them.
I grabbed my keys from the hook by the door and stepped out onto the porch.
The door clicked shut behind me with a finality that made my heart skip a beat.
The sunlight hit my face, and I squinted against its brightness.
I followed my friend down the front steps, my movements stiff and awkward.
Each step felt like a battle, as if there were invisible weights pulling me back into the safety of my house.
My friend walked slightly ahead of me, giving me space but still staying close enough to let me know she was there for me.
I noticed how my unwashed hair stuck to the back of my neck, and how my old sweater hung loosely off my shoulders.
The neighborhood seemed too bright and alive, with children playing in their front yards and cars driving by with loud music blaring from their speakers.
Every time a car passed by, I instinctively shrank into myself, feeling small and vulnerable.
My friend slowed her pace to match mine as we reached the sidewalk.
"Do you remember when we used to come here after school?" she asked, her voice laced with nostalgia.
"Yeah, we thought the world was ours to conquer," I replied, a faint smile tugging at my lips despite myself.
"Well, maybe it still is," she said softly, "and maybe we just need to remind each other of that sometimes."
