In A Bad Brood

Writing about my depression briefly relieves my pain. The moment I describe what I’m feeling, I no longer feel (as) depressed.

As we say, write or read a word—the second we “have it”—the word slips away along with its meaning. I write down “depression”; depression and its meaning(lessness) slip my mind, only to return.

A pessimist might argue that writing about depression is a symptom of my depression. I say that as long as I’m writing about something I’m not lying in bed all day in a bad brood.

Advertisements