The thing about depression…

Published May 22, 2011 by wildleek

The thing about depression is my life is pretty fabulous right now. I’m busy and successful and I have free time which I get to fill with wonderful things.

And then I pull a dish out of the cupboard (I even did dishes! That’s how Not Depressed I am.) and, oh, look, that one has a big blob of salad dressing that I totally didn’t wash off OH GOD I SUCK AT EVERYTHING I SHOULD JUST RUN OUT IN FRONT OF AN SUV.

That’s the thing about depression. I’ve been in deep, bellowing, life-consuming depressions, the ones where I didn’t want to get out of bed. I’ve had those depressions. And they suck.

And then there’s just Depression. The all-the-time, doesn’t-go-away, even-when-I’m-happy-I’m-depressed depressions. I removed an allergen from my diet about one and a half years ago and a lot of the acute depression went away. I remember driving to work one day shortly after the change and becoming suddenly very paranoid because, holy cow, I felt so happy. No reason. Nothing had happened to make me feel happy. I just did. I was just happy. And it was such a huge change. Which is awesome.

But that’s not the whole of it. The other night, I was getting stuff together for my booth at the farmer’s market, and I reached for a book to stick in the crate I was taking along and noticed its spine was looser than it should be. It was a binding method I had learned only a few months ago, so I’m still fairly new to it, and this particular book was one of my first ones in that style. And the binding was a little loose. This makes perfect sense. I was inexperienced. Of course the product wasn’t flawless.

Yeah. Tell that to Depression. So, I sat on the floor had a panic attack.

That night, I had experienced no other stress. I was feeling totally ready and confident about the market. I was excited. I do good work and I know it. Yet.

That’s the worst thing about depression for me. The out-of-the-blue-ness of it, the way there’s no build, no escalation. The way happy can flip over and be suicidal in the space of a moment. In the space of a dirty dish.

The thing about depression is having no control.

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