Melancholia is a long and slow-paced movie.
But it depicts major depression so painfully that it’s hard not to stop once you’ve started watching it.
From what I understand, the director suffers from depression.
If you have seen the movie, it’s obvious only someone who has experienced this debilitating disease could have made it.
The scenes in the beginning of the movie are absolutely breathtaking.
I fell in love with them instantly.
I feel the way the picture I posted is.
Kristen Dunst’s character in a wedding dress with the ground latching onto her, like quick sand with tentacles.
I feel stuck.
I’m moving, but each step is excruciatingly difficult, requiring all of my energy.
I put one foot in front of the other, ever so slowly.
I used to be obsessed with time.
I was convinced that I never had enough of it.
Always having more to do than I could finish in a day.
It would stress me out.
Now, I spend my days killing time.
Rushing home to sleep because that’s the fastest way to make it disappear.
My world, which once felt so crowded and suffocating, now feels small and empty.
There’s a great many things I could do with my time, I just can’t get myself to care right now.
I feel deeply sad.
Do you realize how difficult it is to admit that?
To say that without tying a pretty bow of a silver lining around it?
It makes people uncomfortable.
It needs to be fixed, it needs to get better, it needs to be stuffed away.
I should do something about it right this moment.
Fight it off, don’t let it fester.
But that’s not what I need.
I just need to feel sad and not apologize for it.
I need to express it without making it comfortable for everyone else.
I need to float until I feel strong enough to swim.
Wait it out until I’m good and ready to return with a vengeance.
I’m not there yet.
I still have some sadness to work through.
But when I’m done, you’ll know.
Oh boy, will you know.