Hilariously Depressed

Hey.

Those in the know are aware that I've struggled with depression my entire life.

I was diagnosed with severe depression in my mid twenties.  Did the therapy and the pills for about four years, and then my life really fell apart, and none of it helped, so I quit it all.

I poured myself into my work, saved up thousands of dollars to move to a new place.  I shut down all outside aspects of my life. And, as always, my sheer stubbornness led me to prosperity.

I don't do well with free time.  Once a play/musical ends, or I wrap up a creative endeavor, I collapse.

And, my depression, which has been patiently waiting, decides to take control.

I've been really hilariously depressed this week.   I think it's funny because it's so predictable and insistent and clumsy and familiar.

My depression looks like this:

Behold, the manatee.

Sailors used to believe these "sea cows" were mermaids.  They're lumbering, homely creatures.

My depression is mute and forceful and belligerent.  He slaps against my chest over and over until it's a steady, dull ache. It's hard to focus.

My favorite part about dealing with him are the strange, desperate bargains I make to keep him from undermining me:

Me: C'mon, you have to get out of bed.  There's no reason for you to brood and feel bad right now.
Manatee:  (groans, shakes head, hides under the covers)
Me: Look, if you get up, you don't have to shower, ok?
Manatee: (bleats feebly)
Me: ...and you can have Thai food.  I know you love Thai food...
Manatee: (slaps me hard with a fin)
Me: Dammit - what do you want?  Love?  Do you want love?  Well, you can't get that right now.  We don't have any of that in stock.  Do you want music?  Movies? Games?
Manatee:: (gurgles sadly)
Me:  (sigh) How about ice cream?
Manatee: (wheezes, lifts himself out of bed)
Me:  Ok.

And the two of us have been at it all this week. Making bargain after bargain to be able to do things a normal person can do without blinking: getting out of bed, going to work, going to see a friend sing, just getting out of the house.

I don't know if I'll ever make my manatee go away for good.  I know I'm still miles away from practicing healthy self-care and respect.  But by giving him a face, he seems less scary.  Less in control.