Life was mostly enjoyable. Sunny days, cloudy days, all days were good if not decent. However, suddenly there was darkness.
Never enough to block out the sun, but enough to plague incoming clouds. Always there, making advances to suddenly block out the sun at random.
The blocking of the sun only seemed to affect certain people, almost as if some couldn't see it.
The blocking of the sun happened at different times for most, but having a disastrous event in life always seems to be an omen of the darkness.
For some reason, the darkness grows every time one of the ones that couldn't see it call the ones that could crazy , not having experienced the darkness.
The darkness eventually stops going for the sun. Then there is peace. There is peace for moments if not days.
Only for the darkness to ultimately blind them. No longer just blocking light, but their vision. The darkness always is there. No way to escape from their tainted sense of vision.
The darkness pushes the ones that see, into ideas. These ideas are deadly and clearly not beneficial to anyone.
The ones that see start to believe these ideas are true, and that their new eyes are correct. They become hosts to this darkness.
The darkness becomes a force that imitates the host so well, only those that care about the person reach out to assist their vision.
The darkness subsides shortly not at its own volition but the ones that were blinded.
The darkness eventually returns. The darkness always seems to be there. Even if it vanishes now and again.
The ones that care reaching out becomes less and less effective, as the ones facing this darkness start questioning everything. The hosts soon become different. A husk of their former selves.
It's clear to many now. Those that care, start to get plagued as well due to their exposure of this plague. The hosts start to stop reaching out or seeing hope in escaping the darkness.
Eventually the infected see the fragile husk their body has always been, and how simply they could become injured. They spiral deeper and deeper into this void of despair.
They no longer see anything, everything is automatic, near no words phasing them. Eventually they are done. They no longer want to be a host to this plague.
They want to use an ultimate solution. They get to the end of the line and reflect. Some think it's worth to end it and see what's on the other side. Others reflect and step back...
The ones that step back don't enjoy the life they have, and still believe they won't, but they deny to take the gamble of ending it.
Some find themselves to that edge many times and find themselves off of it, finally. Others get help from a doctor, a doctor that helps uproot the darkness.
Never forcefully, they allow the ones infected to assist themselves. It may not work for everyone infected. But, the ones that it does, it greatly helps them.
The darkness becoming a small shadow. As the darkness never fully leaves, but it can get better, with enough help and waiting.
The ones that never see darkness live on, none the wiser, lucky that they lasted as long as they have uninfected. The ones that do, suffering constantly with the growing burden.
The ones that have recovered, being in a better place mentally, happy they stepped away as many times as they did.
Then the infected that decide to end the suffering, may they rest in peace and be learned from.
Seek help if you feel no longer in control, or think of doing a permanent decision they may regret. For the sake of anyone you know... Even when it all goes to shit.