Step Off, O Ye Grinning Bastard

I am focusing myself.

Recently, during the in-between minutes of the night, right on the edge of my vision, i've been recognizing Depression rearing its dusty, smirking head. This is nothing new, but its been wonderfully absent in my life for several months now and i was just beginning to get used to a new status quo, emotionally.

Depression is nothing to get excited about 'round these parts; its just part of the family dark. A recently learned that i had a great aunt who stepped in front of a bus one day without explanation. Most of my extended family (on that side) has had at least a brief episode with depression and we generally come out of the experience all the better for it. But still, i suppose its never something to be taken lightly.

The important thing to remember about depression, for those who don't suffer from it, is that it is not just being very, very sad. Sadness is normal. Sadness is a sharp, localized pain that is easily targeted and dealt with. Depression, on the other hand, effects all areas of one's life and is, more than anything, exhausting. It drains your energy, your passion, and, if not overcome, your will to live. It is ennui to the Nth degree.

I have always been what i refer to as a "Depressive" personality. It is common for me to wake up one day and simply feel quiet, delicate, contemplative. Rainy days often provoke such moods and i do not shy away from them. Once, when i was younger, i questioned why "depression" got such a bad rap and decided to embrace and utilize the effects of such moods for artistic purposes. Several years, a short stint on Lexapro and a lot of experience later, i realize that my occasional dark moods and actual depression are two entirely different beasts.

This time 'round, i resolve to cut the beast off at the pass. I know his tricks, and i know his effects. I've seen him coming and i'm taking measures to make sure his arrival is a most unpleasant one.

You can't scare me any more, Mister What's-the-Point-Getting-Out-of-Bed. I broke your wrists last time we fought, and you'll not get hold of me or mine again.