Depression Sucks

Well, that’s a duh statement.

Depression.

Sucks.

Depression can come because of some outside influence: you’re sick, your favorite basketball team lost, you’ve lost your job, someone you know passes away. All of these things and so many uncountable others can send a person spiraling, and in some cases, into an extremely harrowing, down to the bone, sadness. A sadness that, at times, doesn’t seem to want to let go.

But what about the depression that decides show up unannounced, walk in the door, hang it’s hat, lounge around on the couch in it’s underwear and eat all your Cheetos for no apparent reason other than to screw with you? What if there isn’t any outside catalyst? Yeah, that kind of depression sucks too.

No matter how many times it happens to me, I still I don’t get it. I’ve got a loving and supportive family, a happy home, a host of activities that I normally enjoy. But when this stupid wet blanket comes to hang around, it’s like moving through sludge. You know when you’re having a nightmare and you’re trying to fight someone off, but you can only move super slowly and you can never get any power behind your punches? That’s what depression feels like for me.

I guess I’m just writing to vent, and, as I type this, I am feeling a teensy bit better. I have resources at my disposal that I use and they do help. So I know that it’ll pass—it always does. But it still sucks.