The weird part about depression is that lengthy period where you just don’t care about anything. You’d like to care, you know you ought to care, but…yeah, sorry, don’t care. Nothing hurts because nothing matters. That’s the good news.
The bad news is that eventually this period ends and suddenly everything matters and now everything hurts. There’s no perspective. The smallest thing can send you flying off the handle or bursting into tears–sometimes screaming and crying simultaneously because you can’t make up your mind which you’d rather do. It doesn’t help to know that you’re mentally ill and you’re not thinking clearly and you’re blowing everything out of proportion and that neither crying nor screaming will make things better. You can’t stop thinking about how unfair it is to realize how self-destructive you’re being and yet not be able to stop yourself. It is not only unfair, but it is uncool. Very uncool.
Other people would like to help, but they don’t know how. You don’t know how they can help, either, which makes you fairly useless. Make that extra-useless because it’s not like you were doing anything in the first place. Also uncool.
There’s nothing to do but put one foot in front of the other, but every time you go to move one foot, something stops you. You can’t do it even though you know you ought to be able to, seeing how you’ve done it before and all. Put one foot in front of the other, that is. Just not today, for some reason. Or yesterday. And maybe not tomorrow either.