Day 13 of 100

I hate the word depression.

In many ways it has lost its meaning. It can mean unhappy or even despondent. It can be used to describe the economy. It can even be used as a motion as in depressed a button. Even the fucking weather can be depressed.

For me, when I say depressed I am describing chemical activity in my brain that I cannot control nor is the outcome of some action. Frankly, I can be depressed without reason.

Being bipolar, and for me, a rapid cycler, I can be manic and depressed in the same day, sometimes even the same hour.

And it is sneaky. Sometimes it feels like a simple malaise or a bit of grey seeping in at the edges. I could be having fun, and be excited, but still be depressed. It is often marked by weight gain (I have gained weight in each of the last three days), isolation (I didn’t go to my AA meeting), and bad sleep (I have had low sleep scores on all apps for 5 days now).

And the littlest things make me cry.

And what makes it the worst? There is no cure.

Yes, eating right, exercise, sleep, and even some herbs can help, but mostly they just keep my depressive episodes shorter and less intense. The medication I take helps. But mostly, it cuts off the worst of the depression so I can be functional.

So this is my face when I am depressed. I am not unhappy. My brain is just on a low ebb and I know (as I remind myself over and over), it will pass.

It will pass. It will pass. It will pass.

I hope.