Hello depression! How nice of you to drop by again! It’s been a few days since we’ve talked, hasn’t it?

What’s that? You missed me?! Heh. Awwww. Poor you. Why did you miss me? Surely you must have other friends you can visit?

What’s that? There’s no one exactly like me? No one with the same set of neuroses and fears as me? No one whom you enjoy hanging out with just so much?

I’ve got to tell you, depression, I mean, I don’t want to hurt your feelings but I don’t enjoy you the way you seem to enjoy me. I actually feel better when you are not around.

There, there, depression, don’t cry! Awwwww, I’m sorry. <Hugs depression> Come on, now. <More hugs>

<More hugs>

<More hugs>

<More hugs>

Ok, then, depression, what do you want to do? What’s that? You want me to talk about you?

You don’t want me to write about The Girl and Her Dog, but about you? Why?

Ok, depression, you’re getting your upteenth fifteen minutes… I’m sorry; I shouldn’t be harsh with you, but you’re like a bad flu, you know? I know: it sucks to be you, but there must be a silver lining, no?

A few weeks ago, I embraced you; said that you were part of me and would always be; I swore to base my identity on you, like an Ingmar Bergman or any one of those depressive Nordic type filmmakers [and probably writers; I’ll have to look that up.(1)] That was great. That made me so happy and the more I embraced you, the “happier” I seemed to get! It was awesome.

Then I started into the fiction writing – that was the absolute coolest thing! I’ve long been afraid to go there because I thought it would make it hard for me to “make a living”; ie. traverse back and forth from the fictional, anything goes universe of my mind to the plebian, deliver me this xxx to sell my product/support my cause by this date reality – and I guess I was kind of right, no? I mean, here you are: full force and sucking me dry.

(It’s okay, it’s okay. That’s your nature – I’m just saying – You should be ok with your nature – You’re very powerful, you know? Extremely powerful. I was reading last night that you can take decades off the lives of people! Dudette, feel good about that! You are more powerful; well, equally powerful, to sunshine and roses! So yah, you suck me dry; nothing to be upset about.)

What’s that? You just want me to create, not do that boring old hourly billing stuff? Thanks. Thanks, depression, I appreciate your support. I don’t want to do it either. I’m sick of (most) of it.

What’s that? You think that building web sites is soul sucking? You think it’s tedious, factory-like work? That maybe I should just be designing the sites and having someone else finish them? Or that ideally, I’d just write and think for a living, maybe make some pictures with Photoshop, etc?

Geez. You’re kind of my only supporter, depression, so thanks. Thanks for that!

How do you propose we’re going to pay the rent and eat while we’re doing these things? How do you propose that we find clients, or supporters, for this kind of work?

You say I must make friends with people who can help me? Make the task of finding the supporters and clients easier? Join forces with other people trying to do the same thing and work together? That sounds good. I’ve always kinda sucked at working alone. Well, I guess not. But the idea of working with other people at stuff that intimidates me is good. Maybe they can promote my stuff and I can promote theirs. So ideally, we’d be working in complimentary areas but not overlapping, not competing?

So where do I find these people? I have tons of friends who are struggling writers, artists and bloggers, like me. Should I try organize ‘em all? Yes?

Meetups? Writers groups? Design groups? Yah, those are probably good places to explore, too.

It’s gonna take a long time, isn’t it?

How am I gonna pay the rent and eat in the meantime?

I mean, I have savings, but they won’t last that long and as an older person, don’t I need them for the upcoming hospital bills?

You are laughing. You say that you will kill me long before I use those savings for hospital bills if I don’t get to work! Er, thanks, depression. Your support is endearing, I guess.

But what about my niece and nephew? I want to be able to help them, if they need it, to be able to deal with that problem you know about; you know, the one I can’t mention in public.

I mean, if they need it, I’d like to be able to help them go to school, though first and foremost, to deal with the unmentionable problem.

Yes, yes, yes, you are right, depression! Dealing with my issues, providing them with an example to follow will be way more helpful than money for school, as much as it would be nice to provide both. Yes, yes, yes, you are right. I’m still dealing with the injustice I experienced as a young adult and yes, I did not deal with it then and so I have to deal with it now. And yes, if I deal with it, it will teach them how to deal with the injustice they will have to manipulate until they can tuck it into a nice neat, out of the way package, or blend unobtrusively into a happy life. Geesus, you’re smart, depression. Why do I avoid your visits?

I guess it’s because you challenge me and don’t let me “follow the herd”. I guess it’s because you force me to use what I’ve been given in life: my gender and the unique benefits that come with it, like less pressure to make money and to be able to support a family, and my brains and my… stubbornness.

Yes, it is good what you attempt to force me to do: use my stubbornness towards my own fulfillment, not the fulfillment of an outside entity.

You’re a dragonfly, aren’t you? The kind of dragonfly that visits when I’m attempting to leave my own soul.

Thanks, thanks for that. I guess. Sigh.

1 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scandinavian_literature

Image from: http://morningwind.wordpress.com/