take a walk with me

dispatches from depression #4

i’ve kind of been too depressed to write this month but not necessarily in that all-encompassing otherworldly way but in more of a gosh sometimes life is a bit hard and depressing kind of way, like, rooted in reality business depression vs spiritual fantasy never-ending-hole catatonic faerie-card depression, though of course that’s hardly to say that never the twain shall meet because reader, friend, the twain are actively fucking, bonded for life, can’t live with can’t live without each other etc. what is a bad day without a complete disintegration of your self-worth anyway?

my view rn

i can’t write when i’m depressed and i can’t really do much when i’m depressed but writing is kinda bottom of the barrel of things i can do. isn’t that stupid? there are some other things i had to do this month and with limited energy i couldn’t then write! but also every month is a version of that. and so there’s the energy issue but i think bigger than that is the self-worth issue, where depression spins the wheel of fortune that lives in my brain but has changed every possible landing place to things along the lines of “why” or “who cares” or “kill urself” and so even if i did have the energy to write i would certainly not have the will or the vision to feel like it mattered enough. like literally right now i am typing as fast as i can to sort of outrun the depressive part of my brain that will at any moment render this all meaningless and shut this shop DOWN.