The worst part about depression (spoiler alert: there is no worst part, it all sucks) is that sometimes loved ones don’t understand that just because you take medication to manage, it doesn’t mean that you’ll be a constant wealth of happy feelings all the time. 100% happiness isn’t possible because it’s not reality. And I’m not sure if I’d want to live in a world where that were the norm. Would we actually feel alive? How would we be thankful for the none stormy days? How could we appreciate the warmth and sunlight of love without having felt the other side? I get down. I used to get down a lot more. It never lasts forever but boy do I get down. I’m sort of coming down off of being in New York. New York City is like a drug in that way. It feeds my creative side and I understand how it captures so many hearts (even though I’ve hated it for so long). But there’s so much extra stimulation received and it’s unmistakable and when it’s taken away, it can feel similar to coming down off of a drug. I wouldn’t want to live there again. But I wouldn’t turn down some of that energy.
There’s work stuff which is troubling. And a general overwhelming feeling of loneliness which will pass quicker than it arrived. It seems I left summer behind here and when I came home, it was suddenly too cold to swim.