Depression Sucks

All three guys are out playing golf and I am doing chores, odds and ends and feeling miserable. I forgot the stupid, ugly, scum sucking pill this morning. Not taking Effexor sucks. At least not taking Effexor sucks when you are fighting depression. What is with me. I hate the term sucks. It is way to middle school.

But most of all I hate depression. I hate that feeling of pressure in the middle of my chest--a balloon expanded just enough to make me constantly aware that it is there and for me to constantly be uncomfortable and sad.

I hate the way it takes my energy away. I hate the way it takes the fun out of my life, how it steals my willingness to do something extra, do something more.

For example, I told the guys I would go shopping and make a dinner with a salad, squash stir-fry and cookies. And I can’t--or at least I won’t, get in the car and shop. I’ll make a nice dinner, but not the dinner I promised. I’ll do the chores I need to do, but not move on to do the fun things.

I hate depression, it means I do what I need to do, I do more then just exist, but not what I should. I don’t do what I need to enjoy my life.--I don’t look for enjoyment, I wait for it to come to me. And I may not always recognize enjoyment if it slaps me in the face.