Let me be very clear: This is not a cry for help. This is me. This is an honest look at living with depression. I do not want help. I do not want sympathy. This is who I am.
Life is a daily struggle. A day can be categorized one of three ways: a great day, an OK day, or a bad day. You might find it surprising, but most days are OK days. Very few are great days. The ones that are bad tend to be very bad. The bad days tend to be happening more often. That’s just the way they go.
Today was an OK day. But it leaned more towards a bad day than being in the middle. My parents were visiting, and my in-laws came over. Each by them selves tends to make it more bad, but having both compounds it. There wasn’t any in particular that stood out, but simply the situation itself. There was nothing, however, beyond simply the situation. Given the possibilities, nothing else happened to make my depression worse. I guess that’s good.