It’s not just sad. Though I most often use that word. The word “depression” has lost some of its meaningfulness as a way of explaining what this beast is that accompanies me.
There’s this scene in Cool Hand Luke where Paul Newman is fighting with George Kennedy and he’s being pounded but he won’t stay down. Luke can barely stand, hardly raise his arms anymore but he won’t stay down on the ground and let it be over. Sometimes my depression is like that.
There this scene in Mash where Painless the dentist decides that he would rather die than go on living. Hawkeye and the gang plan a funeral charade for him. Painless preps himself, climbs in the coffin, takes his pill and waits to die. Lt. Dish “helps” him out in the midnight hour and Painless wakes up the next morning and goes about his business like the evening never happened. Sometimes my depression is like that.
There is this scene in the Color Purple where Mr. runs Nettie away from Celie and Nettie stands in the road as he pelts her with stones. She screams, with her arms raised and hands open, she screams “Why!!?? Why?” Sometimes my depression is like that. It’s not just sad.
Sometimes I ask why; sometimes I’d like to just lay down and die but most often I just keep getting up barely standing, worn out and beaten. I am unwilling to lose to the beast. It can walk with me if it must, but it won’t ever win. Just so you know.