Ramblings about depression

 

 

This is the tail-end of Mental Illness Awareness Week (Oct 4-10). It's likely been overlooked due to the upcoming elections and the White House #COVID19 situation. 2020 has been brutal so far - physically and mentally. Americans are depressed, frightened, and feeling hopeless.

Depression. It happens to everyone. I'm in a slump currently, and my tools to combat it are partially to blame. 

I "nest", as Better Half likes to say. I celebrate the arrival of each season and welcome it with tacky knickknacks. More so, my sense of house pride motivates me to repair, decorate, and plan for the future. That coping tactic is absolutely fettered at the moment by my mother. 

Of course, I can't blog about my depression and frustrations without an image to add to it. It can't be any image. It has to have a punch to it. Off I go to find one that conveys how I feel.

        If anything will cure your depression or cause suicide, it's a Google image search.

               Seriously.

My depression often manifests as sardonically caustic humor, so today's search results yielded an extra helping of cynicism for breakfast. How many pictures of a human in a corner holding their head do we need in order to convey an emotional state? Ditto with clouds and rain. Depression has been reduced to a trope. If there aren't clouds, bits of people blowing away, or head-holding, is the person less depressed?

I abandoned the image search.

That depresses me.

Just kidding. If anything, it brightened my spirits to see all those artists trying to pull off "angst" while the subject looks like someone sulking from a First World Problem. Most failed at it. 

Some nailed it. This series is by stock photographer Evgeny Atamanenko. His artistry shines through most of the images he supplies to companies and organizations. He also tends to use his own family when setting the tone.

What was I rattling on about? Depression? Mental health? Yes, that's supposed to be the topic. Now where was I going with it? What on earth was I trying to convey?

This fog part of my depression, or else it indicates that my metabolism is about to crap itself again. Likely it's a little from Column A and a little from Column B. Add in a touch of apathy and mix with a smidgen of insanity. Cook this until it burns. That will bring your friend AAARRRGGHH back.

What?

Don't ask. Better Half will get the joke.

Having been unproductive all morning thanks to depression, I will now stare at paint chips and dull my mind with YouTube.

________________________

There's something ironic about my therapist calling me twice while I was writing this entry. He left an appointment reminder message the first time, then called back ten minutes later because he gave the wrong time in that message. We traded wisecracks before confirming it was at 11 on Monday. I love my therapist. He's delightfully warped.