Depression

Here’s the thing about depression. It not like feeling sadness. The glass isn’t half-empty. It’s totally empty, it can’t be refilled under any circumstances, it’s cracked, someone’s going to get killed by the jagged edge and look – now it just burst into flames . . .

I realize that non-depressed people feel sad and dragged out sometimes. In this world, you’d have to be on major doses of amytriptyline daily to not feel it rushing past you sometimes. But, they just don’t get it. Hey, depressives, can I get an AMEN!

I also realize that a) they think you’re nutso, b) what’s the big deal and c) they should be able to snap you out of it. Well, they can’t and when they try and fail, they will get angry with the poor, hopeless depressive.

But, look here: it’s like getting upset with a paraplegic for not being able to do a Walk To Fight Whatever It Is This Time. They have a disability, see? It’s not willful. It’s a chemical imbalance.

By the way, depression isn’t sadness. It’s a morose, morbid, chemically-induced state of mind that can be totally disabling. I’ve heard these words – “Don’t be such a victim!” Well, I am a victim, you moron, of a disease that has no cure. Okay? Thanks.