The Explanation

So before I get into the actual story, I'm going to tell you a little bit about it first. See, I'm depressed, but there are a lot of my friends, one in particular, who aren't. I really want to talk to them about it, to let them know how I'm feeling, but I know that they'll never fully understand what it's like to feel yourself falling apart and not being able to do anything about it. 
One night, while lying in my bed thinking about it, I thought of this sort of story, sort of metaphor. So here it is.

You're on the top of a mountain in summer. The air is warm, friendly, fresh and clear. The sun is shining and the breeze is caressing your skin and running loving fingers through your hair. You are loving every minute of it, but you aren't exactly aware of how good you have it. 
Then something changes. You slip a bit in your perfect happiness. You might not slide much at first, but you drop. You might not even realize you've fallen until you realize that the air is not quite as clear; the sunshine isn't quite as warm, and there are a few more clouds in the sky. It doesn't seem too bad and you've never really learned how to climb, so you stay there. You learn to deal with the clouds and to savour the sun when it appears. 

There then comes a period of rain. It starts out as a mere drizzle, but quickly morphs into a heavy downpour interspersed with rumbles of thunder and flashes of lightning. You're wet and tired and you can't see an end to it. Then, because of the rain, a landslide happens.

Suddenly you're clinging to the side of the mountain in desperation, wondering, "How did it come to this?" You manage to pull yourself up onto a small ledge. You huddle there, waiting for the rain to stop. Eventually it does, but the sky is still grey and the small stabs of sunlight that reach you aren't quite enough to keep the shadows at bay. You look back up at that sunlit peak and, for the first time, realize just how far you've fallen.Climbing back up seems impossible but a small voice whispers in your mind that you can make it; you can climb back up. 
So you start the arduous climb back to the paradise you once had. You seem to be making pretty good headway and things are looking up. And then it happens. The ground under your feet shifts again and, once more, you find yourself clinging to bare rock. This time, however, you lack the strength to hold on. You fall down, down, down. You feel the wind catching at your hands, your feet, your limbs, but this wind is not your friend. Not this time.

You hit the bottom and lay, winded and numb. Nothing hurts yet; you feel nothing and see nothing. Then, in the gloom at the foot of the mountain, you slowly regain feeling. The first thing you feel is pain - overwhelming pain. 

Pain that threatens to drag you under. In your heart you wish for the numbness that used to be. Next, in the darkness, you being to hear THINGS. Things that you are unable to see as of yet. They gibber senseless words at first but, all too quickly, the words string themselves to for sentences you'd rather not hear.
"Failure" they say, "Why are you alive? Look at what you had. You've lost it now. You'll never get it back." 
The wind whips around you again, bringing on a fresh wave of pain. 
You cry out, an almost inhuman sound that echoes around the vast canyon that you now reside in. You try to remember the sun; the flowers, but it seems to be as a dream. What is real now are the hard rocks and perpetually overcast sky. Little by little your eyes adjust to the gloom and you can now see that things that torment you. 
They are creatures of nightmares. Beasts akin to wolves, but no wolf could ever be as terrifying. They draw around you circling, watching for some sign of weakness that they can use against you. You tremble in fear. 

You draw yourself up though, trying desperately not to let your fear and pain show. They continue whispering words, hideous word that you try to block. Eventually, worn and defeated, you succumb and commence believing all they say.
"Broken" they murmur.
"Yes, broken; irreparable" you respond.
You spend so much time down in the valley that you forget what used to be. You now think that it has always been like this, that this isn't so bad. At least you KNOW where you are even if it isn't a good place. You begin to change slowly. It is only when you are already half beast that the clouds part for a moment and a single ray of sunshine falls across you face. It illuminates you skin, dries the tear-stains, eases the pain a bit, and makes you remember what you used to be. You look down, horrified at what you have become. 
A forgotten memory appears; a hazy picture of a forgotten world. A sunlit peak up where the breeze was not your enemy. You look up at the mountain and experience a moment of despair. But you puck it back and begin the climb to paradise. You fall back often, but you persevere. 
After what seems like years of climbing, you are able to see the top gleaming in the sunlight. You look down, astonished that you can still see the bottom with all its beasts watching your every move. You shrug your shoulders and turn your face once again towards the sun.