12 Reasons Why Depression Sucks
Depression in a sense is awe-inspiring. It enables me to observe the little things I might otherwise take for granted. It allows me to feel gratitude more often than not. It compels me to connect with myself on the deepest level.
There’s an unspoken beauty where the calmness meets the chest crushing pain, strength in sadness and the reality that all we have is today.
It provides the ability to live in the moment, mindfulness. Depression is that gift, right here and right now.
They say depression is the feeling of hopelessness but it’s not. There’s so much hope. Hope that tomorrow will be better. Hope that I’ll feel good. Hope that I’ll leave the house. Hope that I’ll create.
But, also. Depression sucks and here’s why:
- I really wanted to get that thing accomplished but never got out of bed.
- I take an antidepressant and still feel depressed.
- I watch chick flicks just so I can justify crying.
- I invest hours of my life attempting to comfort and-or stabilize my misery by doing things such as but not limited to lying in the grass while intentionally frying my brain with the sun, jumping up and down, pretending I care, ignoring the voice in my head, emotionally eating and sitting in my recliner for 14 hours straight starring off into space contemplating the universe.
- I fake being happy so people who don’t experience depression can’t tell me how not to be depressed.
- I’m not a crabby asshole. This is my natural state of being. Who knew angry was a mood? Huh.
- I don’t have friends because in order to have friends you need to be willing to interact with people.
- My therapist told me a companion animal would be beneficial for my emotional health; a dozen cats later and I’m still not cured.
- I would have left the house but I have too many catastrophizing reasons not to.
10. I’m unable to find the stamina to exercise yet I totally had it in me to walk out to my car at 4:00 AM this morning and get that cookie I left in it yesterday.
11. #bodyaches #headaches #nausea #exhaustion #panicattacks
12. No, really. It’s not you. It’s me.