Depression is a sneaky little bastard.
I realized this morning that sneaky little bastard is a strong, accurate, description for this malady.
I was just reading about levels of depression. There is clinical, medical, and situational depression. I found this interesting because people have an image of what depression is and it is not necessarily a correct one. I found it interesting that depression can be graded, kind of like degrees of murder. I like that it can be managed or even “cured”. It’s an interesting disease to have, I suppose as there are so many levels and degrees to consider.
It is amazing to me how many people have from some sort of depression. People that you would never think suffer from depression. Well, let me correct that. Not necessarily suffer, let’s say copes with. “Suffer” is a choice to some degree. Some people don’t suffer.
Depression IS a sneaky little bastard. Before you know it, he has wrapped his arms around you and there is little you can do. He rides along like an unwanted hitchhiker interrupting & screwing up everything that you do. He alters your personality, he makes changes that you didn’t approve.
Then, for some, he disappears like an apparition. You don’t even know where he went or how long he stayed, or worse yet: what kind of damage he wrought while he was here. Sneaky little bastard.
But I guess some of us are lucky…strange reference when discussing depression, I realize…some of us just dance with depression and then he’s off to the next person on his dance card.
At least some of us are not stuck with him like some kind of a horrible Siamese Twin. (Okay, like there’s such a thing as a *good* Siamese twin)
Or some of us can take a pill to ward him off like holy water to a vampire.
Some of us keep him around like a security blanket. Some of us keep him around like a bitter ex-spouse.
I really have no point. I just was rambling. He’s just such a sneaky little bastard.