Ironically, as I write this I’m suffering from the start of a depressive episode.
I’ve been a Depressive since around the turn of the millennium. After several years of family strife, and various general suckiness, I had my first episode and finally took myself to the doctor.
My depression makes me sleepy, moody, withdrawn. It makes me unable to focus, unable to settle, unable to stop eating. I cry, I sulk, I sleep, I stare at the ceiling. Hmmm, I feel like I’m not explaining it right.
I’ve tried several times to write posts about my depression, and about how it manifests and affects my life. They never seem quite right.
Sometimes I do better than others, and on occasion I’ve felt like I might actually be recovering. Turns out I was wrong, but there you go. I’ve realised that whether I’m recovered or not, I will always be a depressive. I tend to think of it like alcoholism. You’re never not an alcoholic, it’s just that sometimes you’re on the wagon. Hopefully one day I’ll get on the wagon, and I’ll be able to stay there.