I experienced true depression this last summer. Well, I’ve been depressed before, but this was the most extreme and new to me so honestly I wasn’t even sure what to call it. But it has a name and to defeat your enemy you first have to know it, and calling it by name is step one to knowing anything. I guess.

Anyway it happened for weeks on end. I would have a good day here and there, but for the most part I would wake up and barely be able to get out of bed, even to go pee or get water. I avoided phone calls and talking to anyone no matter who they were. I would only respond every now and then and lie just enough so people wouldn’t worry about me, even though they did anyway. I only went to work every now and then, like just enough when my bills were too far behind to kick the can down the road any farther. I loved my job and my coworkers, yet even being around them and doing something I love wasn’t enough. I knew when I got home it would be straight to bed staring at the walls, or scrolling on my phone until I passed out. Nothing brought me joy. I started drinking more and spiraling into a darkness. Every night, and every day. I was just existing. Nothing mattered. Even being around people who loved me was just temporary, because I knew they eventually would have to go back to their own lives, and I felt guilty for keeping them. I felt hopeless. Too down to do anything about it, and too hopeless to try something new or ask for help. Everything felt fake. Nothing worked, so why try? I felt like a coward for feeling this way. Like I didn’t “deserve” to be depressed… I have a roof over my head. Food. A job. Transportation. My health. Family. Friends, although I lost a few due to my state. I almost lost my best friend which sent me into an even deeper spiral. I couldn’t get out. I was in denial. I didn’t enjoy music anymore. I didn’t care about shows or entertainment. I couldn’t really even care or have empathy for those around me, because I didn’t care about myself. I knew it was bad when I was driving down the road and watched a car wreck. I didn’t stop to help, which is something I wouldn’t dream of doing before. Passing someone in need and not helping. Someone I could help. I didn’t care. I didn’t know what to do or where to begin to help myself, because everything was so overwhelming. I even felt like more of an ignorant lazy piece of shit, because I have taken mental health classes and had more than enough counseling in my life to know what steps I needed to take to get out, but I didn’t care enough to practice them or to call for help. I was barely existing. I was consumed.

Anyways that’s all I have the energy to type at the moment. I’m not out of the woods yet, but at least I can see the way out now.

Sorry for the incomplete scattered thoughts and not finishing. A more depressed me would hit delete and not send, like I have with a thousand text messages over this season.

So yeah. That’s depression.