A dangerous moment in my depression requires a response — Pittsburgh Lesbian Correspondents

Today, I had a disturbing thought, wondering if my friends were tiring of hearing me talk about my current struggle with depression? Revisiting recent conversations, looking for subtext, listening for nuance — all to convince myself that I was indeed disturbing them.

And that’s the deadly moment where many of us who won’t want to be a burden or drag stop talking. We might pretend things are okay, we might downplay our feelings, we know how to change the conversation. We know that very few people are going to sit down for a ‘come to Jesus talk’ about how we got from “I feel pretty depressed” to “nah, I’m good” …

I made dinner, drank some iced tea, watched a sweet romcom with my cats. A nice quiet evening. I’ll go to sleep and wake up feeling a little better.

No, that’s not true. I will wake up feeling probably the same. Depression doesn’t just dissipate like a waft from a vape pen. All along, I’ve been doing the things — taking my meds, going to therapy 3x week, talking to my doctor. I eat, I try to do things — I saw two plans and enjoyed them. I had dinner with my youngest nephew last night and oh, he made me smile and laugh. I go outside and look at the sun. I watch distraction tv. I have an actual list of things to do for myself to resist…