I don’t know the science of depression. It’s not something I’ve ever studied, but have only ever had happen to me. I can only talk with any authority about my own personal experiences with it. That being said, I’ve found that the popular portrayal of depression doesn’t fit with my experience of it. Yes, I have days of crying, wrapped in a blanket or eating ice cream while watching sappy movies because I “just can’t” with the outside world, but that doesn’t make up the majority of my experience. With me, I find it comes in stages. Or, maybe more aptly, layers, because each progressive stage retains bits from the stage before it. It isn’t so much like a linear progression from one distinct behavior to the next, but a messy layering. Like a mountain that you build yourself, but from the peak down. So, when you’re done you realize that all of the things you need and have left behind are at the summit and you have no gear and are too tired to climb.
So, this is my experience with this disease: Continue reading
The Art of Panic 