- I remember being endlessly entertained by the adventures of my toys. Some days they died repeated, violent deaths, other days they traveled to space or discussed my swim lessons and how I absolutely should be allowed in the deep end of the pool, especially since I was such a talented doggy-paddler.
I've struggled with depression on and off for the past 5 years, and this is the best explanation of it that I've ever seen.
I get bowled over a few times a year, it's just a waiting game, one week, two, three. I know the moment it's gone. There is no rhyme or reason to it. I don't like reading stuff like this, not when things are bad, not when things are good. I don't want to sympathise when I'm not in that place, just thinking about it seems like tempting fate, opening the door. When it's with me I just want to not think, or can't think. Gives me goosebumps just talking about it.
I hear you. For me, it's a waiting game too. It has become routine. The only thing that I've found that resembles anything like a remedy is a project and a change of environment. However, it's almost impossible to give enough of a fuck to make both of those things happen rather than just let it run its course.
The thing that really surprised me is that this sort of thing is so common. Two of my best friends and I have been dealing with various degrees of depression. Two of us have made it out of that slump, but my friend is still going to therapy and trying to get things back to normal. It's tough to deal with all of life's problems and it was really hard for me because it just felt like I was going through everything on my own and I didn't even realise that I was depressed until after I had made it out.
Same here, it's not something that's fun to talk about, nor do I want other people talking to me about it.