Five years ago this coming Easter Sunday, I recovered from what I believe to have been a case of clinical depression. This is the fifth post I wrote back then on a private blog about what was going on. For more details, see the first post in this series. And the rest: 2 - 3 - 4
Today I feel tired, but not depressed. No feeling that nothing matters
at all; only a feeling that things matter but I would like to sleep
through them! It points up for me the fact that last week I truly was in
the grip of something really bad. I've heard and read people's accounts
of depression (in fact, I'm about to get Chonda Pierce's book about her bout with depression
from the library) but until I got a personal taste of depression I'm
not sure I really took it 100% seriously. Not that I ever laughed it
off... far from it... but the way people describe it sounds pretty
melodramatic. My first post here and some of the other "bad day" posts probably sound that way. Trust me, they are NOT being melodramatic. It's really like that.
Start with the first post in this series here, or continue with the next post here.