Depression sneaks up on me like a mugger on a dark and lonely night.
I can walk into a dark alley knowing the mugger could be there, but I’m still surprised when the shadowy figure steps into my path and demands everything I have and then leaves me bleeding. That happened again tonight — and I’m in a dark hole trying to crawl back into the light.
Many people have far worse struggles with depression than I do. Some people feel suicidal, but I never have. Some people are unable to function well enough to support themselves, but I can make it through a day without most people realizing there’s anything wrong. Some people get hit with crippling bouts of depression and can’t even tell you why.
But I know why I slip into that dark hole every now and then. I walk a fine line between sanity and madness. I know sanity well and live there as my native land, but I’m sensitive to the siren song that comes from the chaos of madness.
When I’m lonely, I get too close to the rocky shadows where those sirens live.
Suicide ends pain of depression, but scars loved ones left behind
Depression can be mind’s way of saying, ‘Hey, we’re way off track’
A year later, my father’s death looms large, but I have no regrets
Search for new partner leaves me wondering where she’s waiting
Trivial distractions keep us from focusing on love and connection
I don’t care where Pedro is from, but I’m happy he’s my neighbor
My unconscious choices on love say much about women and me
My Twitter suspension is reminder that free speech is under assault
Years later, I see that I was an outsider who could never fit in