A short informative tract: for most who suffer depression, it is not sadness but madness. For me, madness is the state of confusion when what is happening in my life is out of step with how I feel about what's happening. I kick a dog barrier because I bumped it. That's out of whack. I love my work. I feel apathetic. I have slept over eight hours. I don't want to get out of bed. My feelings and mood don't fit with what's actual.
I'll keep it short today. My batteries are draining. Apathy is permeating me. I'm fighting it. I'm fighting off sleep. I don't know who will win this one.
This post really isn't about me. I learn more and more about depression as I listen to others who suffer from it. I'm thinking of two of my students. One feels overwhelmed by the idea of showering because it will take too long. Sounds like madness doesn't it? That's depression. Another student, who is as industrious and imaginative of all the writers I'm working with right now, felt guilty when I encouraged my students to look at the possibilites before them when they write, not what is the least they can do. She thought I was talking about her. That's madness. She suffers from depression.
Depression's first line of attack is perception. It dirties the lens through which we see the world. Incongruity results. And madness.
Recently, if someone reacted to you in a way that seemed incongruous with the situation, if you thought to yourself or said to someone else, [insert name] is mad, you are probably right.
But it might not be madness of character.
That person might be suffering from depression.
That person probably seems more mad than sad.
I'm going to try to right my ship of madness today.
I'm going to try to shake out of my lethargy and get free of the apathy I feel.
There, I wrote it.