You’re bored. So bored. You have about a million things to do but you don’t because you’re just so bored.

You physically cannot bring yourself to do the piles of work that sit beside you. Tests you should be studying for. Books you should be reading.

You can’t. You’re too bored to do any of it. No movie, no matter how interesting, can keep you entertained.

You go to bed early, not because you’re tired, actually you’ve never been more awake, but because you’re just so bored.

You look at the clock.


You’ve never considered going to bed this early before but what else can you do?

You lay down like you usually would but you don’t feel the same as you usually do. You close your eyes but it feels weird. Shrugging it off, you keep your eyes closed.

You toss and you turn but you can’t sleep. It feels as though you’re slowly becoming more and more awake. You open your eyes. Lay there for a while. Then you grab your music.

Doing this, you see the time.


You put on your headphones and shuffle through the songs. You land on one. A song that, for some reason, you feel a strange connection towards. It’s the only song that makes sense at the moment.

You lay there. Listening. First with your eyes open, then closed, you lay there. Lay there listening to not only the music but to the lyrics and it occurs to you, this is the first time you’re actually listening to the lyrics. You’ve listened to this song a million times but this is the first time that you’re actually hearing it.

So you lay there. Listening to the song. Numb to the world around you. You feel nothing. Absolutely nothing. No happiness. No pain. No anger. Absolutely nothing.

Your eyes begin to feel weird. You can’t keep them closed any longer so you open them. You can’t see anything when you open them. Just some colors and blurred shapes. You don’t understand why you can’t sleep.

You turn over again.


You hear the sound of footsteps outside. You see the light go out under your door frame. You think about tomorrow and all the stuff you have to do. You think about how it would have just been easier if you did it all today. You try to be angry at yourself but you just feel numb.

All of sudden, your thoughts come flooding in. Memories from the past. Thoughts of the future. But you still feel numb. You replay embarrassing moments in your life. Moments that would usually make you cringe.


You think about the future. You think about growing old. Dying. You think about everything that would usually give you painful anxiety.

Nothing. You feel nothing.


You think it’s strange.


Why can’t you feel anything?


Life feels fake right now.


This should be a good thing. Shouldn’t it?


You’re shot.

You feel like you’ve just gotten hit by a truck.

The song is back on. Now, not only do you understand it but you feel it. You feel it so much that your heart begins to hurt. Physically hurt. You think you’re having a heart attack. You desperately grab for it. Trying to breathe. Trying to relax. But you can’t. You’ve been shot. You’re bleeding and it hurts. Your thoughts viciously stab at your brain.


Your heart rate slows down but your head still pounds. Your room starts spinning. Spinning so fast, you feel bile crawling up your throat. You think you might hurl but you don’t. The spinning stops. Stops just in time so you don’t have to stop just lying there.


You stare at the ceiling. Thoughts continue to swarm your brain.

Thoughts of love, hope, and destiny.

It pains you to think about such things. Think about happiness.

It pains you knowing that you’ll never be happy. Knowing that this pain will never go away. Never leave you alone. Melodies of loss will continue to play in your ears until you can no longer take it. Until you yourself are lost.


You begin to think about the end. The end of your story. You think about your funeral. What people would say about you. You think about your final breath. What you would say during the last second of your life. Whose hand would you hold?

And then. Just like that. A face pops up in your mind. And you feel bad. You feel bad for wanting this person’s attention. But you crave it. You need it.

You look at your phone.


Would they still be awake?

Would they want to talk to you?

You put down your phone.


You need them. You need to talk to them. No one else.

You think about your memories together. But the good ones don’t come to mind. Just the bad ones.

You see their face. You see them hating you. Being bored by you. Wishing to be somewhere else. Anywhere else.

It stings. It kills you. You try, try, try. Try to forget them but you don’t. You need to talk to them. You need to be comforted by them. No one else. No one else will understand.


The anxiety is back. And so is the song. You can’t hear it. Your heart is pounding too loudly.

Muffled noises enter your ear. You begin to panic. The panic rises. It floods your room. You’re drowning. You can’t breathe. You’re drowning. No one hears you. You’re drowning. No one hears you scream. You’re drowning.  No one hears you slam the wall. You’re drowning. You thought you were prepared. I mean, you did learn to swim. But all of your knowledge escapes you. You’re drowning.

The song is over. And so is the flood. You lay there. Breathing heavily. Trying to recover.

Your room begins to shrink. Close in on you. You can’t move. You’re paralyzed.

Suddenly, oh so suddenly, the hallway light turns on and your room is normal once again. Footsteps pad the floor. You desperately want the footsteps to come closer. To come check on you. But they don’t. You’re alone. You’ll always be alone.


You’re still awake. Never been more alert. You try to sleep but can’t. It’s not working. Why isn’t it working?

Once again, you think about everything you have to do tomorrow. Except this time, you aren’t numb. Oh no. Quite the opposite. Your heart beats as your list gets longer.

Homework, clean, think….

Homework, clean, think….

Homework, clean, think….


The anxiety is back but this time, when your room floods, you don’t fight. You can’t fight. You’re tired. Exhausted. But yet, you can’t sleep.


Two hours. Try to get at least two hours of sleep, you tell yourself. When you close your eyes, nothing happens.

You open them once again. You’re in a different room. A room filled with those you love. They’re laughing.

“Why do you laugh at me?”

Your voice is shrill and tiny in comparison to their laughter.

The face is back. That face. The one you wanted to die beside. The last person you wanted to see before you left the world. The only person you wanted to talk to.

They come closer.

The laughter stops.

They come closer.

And then, they reach you. Telling you it will all be ok.

Why don’t you feel safe?


They open their arms.


They wrap their arms around you.


Then. It begins.


The laughter.


And you feel it. You feel the pain.


You can’t breathe.


What did they do to you? They pull away and laugh. You fall.




It hurts.


You’re back. Back in your own little torture chamber. You stare at the ceiling. The pain’s gone. But the song is back.

This time, you tell yourself to get over it. Switch the song. Your finger is on the button. Press it, urges your brain. Press it, urges your heart.

You look around you. The shadows linger in your room. Press it. They hiss. You want to press it. You want the pain to be over. But you can’t do it. You can’t press it. The song continues.


The sun is coming up. The orange and red light engulfs your room in a flame. A vicious flame. And you let it.

You lay there. Desperate for a wink of sleep.

You listen as the world wakes up. Foolishly they greet the morning sun. Don’t they know what a pain being awake is?

You listen to the birds outside as they mock you with their freedom. Their taunting music pains you.


Your family is awake. The world is awake. But you still lay there. You should get up but you’re pinned. Pinned to the bed by your anxiety

The song is back and it doesn’t want you to get up.

Join us, it says. Stay here it says. We’ll protect you it says.

And even though you know not to, you want to because getting up, getting up is more terrifying than laying down.


It’s time. It’s time to face the world.

You sit up. After hours of lying there. You sit up.

You get ready with the knowledge that tonight, tonight you’ll have a new pain. New demons lurking in your room.

You get up with the knowledge that nothing, nothing can put you to sleep. Nothing will be as it was last night.

It’ll be worse. And you’ll have to deal with it because you can’t skip that song. You can’t press the button.

You’ll have to listen to the sickly sweet music as it fills your day. And you’ll have to act. Act as though you aren’t listening to anything.

Act as though you’re just bored.



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2 thoughts on “Bored.

  1. Sidrah,

    Wow, this was an extremely powerful post and it really sheds light on the suffering of depression. The choppy sentences added to the feeling that I was reading someone’s thoughts, a taunted individual just looking for respite in a painful time. I also loved the progression of the blog, as it everything proceeded in a natural manner and that final reveal was able to leave a lasting impact thanks to the well implemented style you used.

    In terms of criticisms, I have very little to say – and most of what I do have to say are just minor personal nitpicks. Though the blog is constantly progressing towards the conclusion of the morning, I feel like some parts of it could be shortened. While the repetition of lines and phrases adds to that sense of pain and anxiety, its overuse can lead to those segments where its needed the most to leave less of an impact. While this didn’t detract at all from the quality of your piece, it is something to keep in mind if you ever plan on doing a similarly styled piece in the future.

    This was an excellent piece that I regret not getting a chance to read sooner. Your excellent style combined with your concise and straight forward language and story progression create an unforgettable glimpse into the mind of someone dealing with depression. I’m looking forward to seeing what other ideas you will tackle and explore in the future.


    1. Spencer,
      Thank you so much for taking the time out to read my blog as this is a piece I hold close to my heart. I’m overjoyed to hear your comments on the formatting of the piece and am pleased that it helped you immerse yourself in the piece more.
      You bring up a good point about overusing particular sentence and phrases in the piece and I will definitely fix that for this blog and look out for it in future blogs.
      Once again, thank you for taking the time out to read this piece. Both your compliments and criticism will help me when I write future pieces. I look forward to sharing them with you!


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