Depression is in my brain. For a whole year I’ve been in a depression that is somewhat invisible and that I cannot rationalize a reason for. What changed that could have caused a year of depression? My hair color? My boyfriend (now fiancé) moving in? Moving from my second floor room to a third floor room? Not being as obsessed with Oliver Reed films? I don’t think there is a true reason for it!
I don’t typically act depressed, I just am. I can’t even call it a bipolar depression spell or episode– it’s just a depression state. And it’s not called melancholy because there’s no romanticism in it, no beauty to go with the word.
The depression seems absent much of the time, yet it is always there. And I know it is there because of how my brain reacts when I want to find some magic in it. I know I have happiness down in my heart, but my brain has too much crud in it. Many people might not recognize that I am depressed, but it’s there in my brain telling me I’m not good enough. My brain makes me tired and weighs my spirit down.
So is this a good excuse for not writing like I love to do? I’ve been in a different place and I wish I knew why.