The worst things about my depression…

It can sneak up on me. I can wake up one morning and it is there lying on top of me, pushing down on my chest with its leaden hands. It is as though it crawled into my bed uninvited while I slept. It is a violation of my body and mind.

It keeps me from taking care of myself. My blood sugar is low and my fridge is empty. The supermarket is 300 yards away from my apartment but it may as well be three cities over. And of course that makes sense since I also need a shower and my bathroom feels as though it is unreachable. The front door feels like a threshold that is impossible to pass. Through its awful grin it mocks me, “Thou shall remain hungry, dirty and inert!”

It is a cold, foggy, vast and uninhabitable moorland. A lonely place. It separates me from myself and others.

But the worst thing of all…It is not the sadness. It is not even the pain. It is the way it keeps me from living. It is the helplessness I feel as it wastes precious time. So much time….wasted.

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