depression is a sneaky little bastard.
August 16, 2009
In my entire life, I’ve probably spent a fair bit of it in a state of depression. I mean, frequently enough has it happened that one would think I would recognize the signs with more ease. But, no. No. It takes a hit over the head to finally get it.
Anyway, newsflash: I’ve been depressed these last few months. My bestie realized it long before I did, but I suppose that’s what they’re for.
Okay, the old man who just walked by making snarky comments about our future leaders, wtf, dude. Headphones don’t mean I can’t hear you.
So, depression. What do I have to be depressed about? I don’t know. Nothing, really. But I imagine that’s part of the problem. I’m neither here nor there at the moment and it’s a difficult space to be in. Life hasn’t gotten any worse but it doesn’t seem to get any better either.
In any event, I’m rather certain that depression is one of the five steps of grief. Actually, it’s the second to last, followed by acceptance.
Guess that means I’m almost there. Although, I’m not sure I want to get there. Can’t be sure I ever will.
