I was once asked by someone who really should have known better what it felt like when I was depressed.  I thought about it for a while, then described it as walking down a very long, very dark hallway, knowing I couldn't turn around, and there wasn't any light at the far end.

And there never was going to be.

When these things hit, I slowly lose interest in just about everything.  If I actually do anything, it's pretty much by rote.  I have clean laundry sitting in a bag, waiting to be dealt with... it's been there for three days.  The towels have been in another bag since last week.

It's been a while since I haven't felt this way.  You might know the feeling, where simply the thought of leaving your apartment/house/box/spot under the bridge/whatever is enough to make you whimper or tear up.  Deal with people?  Heck with that!

Unfortunately, most of us don't have the luxury of being able to crawl under the bed.  Damn shame, that.

So if you're wondering why The Pond has been... um... empty of late, there's why.  It's not even that I don't have stuff to write about; I do!  I just can't bring myself to care about it.  Any of it.  Hell, I even missed The Pond's 9th Anniversary.

So, um, yeah.  Got anything you want me to talk about?

Posted by: Wonderduck at 10:06 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
Post contains 233 words, total size 2 kb.