If I’m being honest, I’ve felt moderately depressed for the past few months. Maybe at first, I had ignored it and stuffed it down. Because who was I to be depressed? On paper, my life is fantastic. I have wonderful relationships, I’m financially stable, I have a stable job, I have a shit ton of free time and a flexible schedule, and I’m healthy. In my mind, there was virtually no reason to feel depressed. So when I started to feel that way, I added on the guilt and the shame of BEING depressed. Which is quite odd, but very human of me to do. So it was a lot to take on.
Until last month, something kind of awful happened. And it pulled out my depression and shame from under the rug and multiplied it times a billion. And I found myself unable to feel alive. Life felt pointless…
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