Depression is saying “Sure!” and “Yes, Ma’am!” when your brain is saying “Okay” and “Whatever.”
Depression is forcing your tired and beaten body and soul out of bed merely because you know that to stay in bed is to sink into the abyss.
Or it’s not forcing your tired and beaten body and soul out of bed because the abyss is where you want to be.
Depression is listening to voices in your head that you know aren’t true, but the energy to fight back is tucked away in a place you can’t reach.
Depression is wanting to be happy but not knowing how.
It’s seeing all the beatify in your life and processing it in your brain but being unable to access it in your heart.
Or on certain really tough days, it’s being unable to see any beauty at all.
Depression is the wearing of many masks.
It’s the playing of many roles and the detachment from many roles.
Depression is lukewarm.
It is the hopeless lingering in the darkness when you know the light is nearby.
Depression is wanting to ask for help but not wanting the world to know that you can’t do it on your own.
Depression is a liar.
Depression is not a refusal to feel joy—it’s the space between joy and your soul—it’s a chasm deep and wide.