Some days, it's all I can think about and other days I can't understand how I could let myself become so mired down by it. I judge myself for it; I go to crossfit and I feel good and fearless and I talk to new people, unafraid, and I wonder who that other person could have been that would let me curl up in the bed and pretend I'm sleeping when my roommate, my best friend, comes home, just to avoid interacting with her. I feel so healthy some days that I forget the more common stretches of sickness, but they always come back and for weeks at a time with only days of reprieve before plunging me back into the fog. And then I hate myself for using it as an excuse but it doesn't change anything and the only place that seems safe is my bed, anymore. My bed doesn't tell me to just get up and do something. It doesn't blame me for not working out everyday. It doesn't scoff when I climb into it with my tea and yogurt to watch Dr. Who reruns for hours. My bed and I - we're tight. I can't say the same for any of my other relationships. Nothing horrific or traumatic happened to me, which honestly make me feel worse, but I can't discount my depression because it isn't brought on or triggered by an event, right?
I am 23 years old with a BS and a job that absolutely demands my mental well-being. I've become pretty proficient at pushing down the gloom when I'm at work, but my life outside of work is crumbling. I guess I'm just here to meet people who understand depression; what its like and how to combat it. I have never talked to anyone about it, which I know is not good, but there is so much stigma around it where I work, I just don't feel like I can tell anyone, and I think that is the most detrimental part of being depressed.