It’s not a line, I mean literally sleep. Can we do that?

It was a bit of a line, but fuck me, it worked. I typed, smiling like an idiot, We can do that

Text you after the meet?

Sure. Good luck, btw

:)

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

The Way Back

Sometimes I saw depression as this spot. A tiny, uneven imperfection, so small it took a little too long to notice it was even there. You find it can remain the same size for a long time, so much so you start to grow accustomed to its presence. Until one day, you look at it and have the feeling it’s gotten bigger. It’s still so small you can’t really be sure it isn’t just in your head, something you’re imagining. So you let it go. You wait. But then it grows some more, and this time it’s enough for you to be certain. That’s when you start paying closer attention to it, almost solely out of curiosity, for it has yet to produce any real effect, except for the fact that your skin now has a small to medium sized spot you’ve no idea how it got there or how to get rid of. One day you wake up and you look in the mirror and that tiny dot has grown so much overnight it now can be considered an issue. And no matter what you do, your will alone isn’t enough to make it go away or diminish. So you can either watch it as it keeps getting bigger and bigger until finally you can no longer ignore it, or you can try to get some help to figure out why that damn spot doesn’t seem to respond.

One of the things that bothered me most about depression was its similarity to happiness, in regards to noticing it. Happiness had a lot to do with hindsight. People tended to notice it a lot better once it had passed, either immediately after or longer down the line. Depression could have that same side to it. It was difficult to recognize a good day while experiencing it. You usually recall it being adequate because the day you’re having now is different, be it for better or worse. That was the problem I had with hindsight. It was a gift, always, but it could sometimes feel like a curse—especially when talking about depression. Also, it did not discriminate. There was no saying when a day would be bad, nor when it would be a good one. One’s mood was held hostage, permanently, and it was extremely tricky learning to live with it, coping.