I’m so tired of living with depression. I’m so tired of not being able to talk about it with anyone. Luckily, not every day is the same. Some days (many days, even!) I’m ok. Sad and scared, but not necessarily depressed. And then there are days like today, when it like I’m at the bottom of a comically deep well with a boulder on my chest. Wondering how much longer I’ll be able to stand being alive. I know it’s temporary. I’m starting to feel better already, but having these half days where I have that empty, heavy, stuck feeling where I can barely move or think straight… are fairly common. Twice a week, at least. 

Even as the person going through it it’s hard to relate to when I’m not in the thick of it, so I get that I can’t expect anyone else to understand what it’s like. How debilitating it is at its worst. How I have no control over it. How exhausted I am.