Dysthymia

In a remote village where the days seemed shorter and the nights dragged on endlessly, there lived a young man called Anton. His world was saturated with a gloomy fog that tightly enveloped his thoughts and heart. From his earliest childhood, Anton felt an invisible shadow hanging over his soul, turning every bright moment into gray and emptiness. He suffered from dysthymia, a disease that, like an invisible hand, squeezed his soul, depriving him of the opportunity to enjoy even the little things. In the evenings, he retired to his room, surrounded by darkness, which seemed more familiar to him than daylight. The walls, as if listening to his heavy sigh, groaned from the pain that permeated every corner of his existence. Anton tried to find solace in the fact that he was engaged in drawing. He created masterpieces reflecting his inner world, where dark colors distorted everyday images, turning them into gloomy distortions. His paintings, like a reflection of his soul, spoke of the pain that accumulated in him and distorted every smile. The more time passed, the stronger the feeling that he was surrounded by darkness, which gradually absorbed his being. Meetings with people seemed to him a heavy burden, as if he was lost in the hustle and bustle of everyday life, feeling like a stranger among familiar faces. Only at night, under the cover of the stars and the quiet lapping of the river, he found some relief. Watching the pale light of the moon, he felt that his pain, at least for a moment, was becoming a little less, as if the stars and the moon were becoming his close friends, able to understand his silent moans and longing.