No longer does the monster hide under your bed. It now resides in your mind and goes by the name of depression. He is a reality, and if you don't believe that to be true, then I'm happy to know that you've never met him.
Personally my depression isn't the cause of my depression. I'm genuinely in trouble, and people are actually screwing me over. And it's been this way for so long, I don't have it in me to be upset anymore. That's what depression is. It's an important defense against mental attacks, attention thieves, doomsayers, "professionals." It's the ability to stop giving a fuck even over your own life, because you can't do anything to save yourself, so it's just needlessly taxing on the brain to agonize over it.
So to be clear depression is terrible: it's worse than agony; it's the inability to even feel agony. But it's not a problem, and it doesn't cause problems. People who think it is are by and large just butthurt because they can't provide a solution to the problems causing the depression. It's a coping mechanism, and the vast majority of depressed people can make a full recovery given the right environment. That'd mean y'all would have to do something though, and it's easier to say it's just a depressed person being depressed, instead of facing our collective social responsibility.
To be extra clear "y'all" for me means my neighbors and people living down the block, as well as anyone enforcing our oppression. Your responsibility is to the people you're physically capable of helping, not some rando halfway around the world like me. And it can be incredibly frustrating when it seems like a depressed person is resisting all attempts to save them. That's a tiny minority of the depressed though. Most are just dealing with some shit, and can't do anything to get what they need.
Add comment