As I was saying.

Cont'd... I realized, looking over my last post, that I started a line of thought that I forgot to pick back up, or edit out.

That's what depression feels like, too -- I think that's how it differs from normal sadness.  It just hurts.

I never really finished explaining that, before I got into the jungle metaphor.

Regular sadness hurts, but it hurts for a reason, usually just one reason.  And while "I hate everything" might be a concise way of expressing the way one feels about the world at that instance of depression, it's not quite the same thing as "Everything hurts."

But when you're depressed, everything does hurt.  It's like the parts of your mind that sustain you fall out from under you.  It's hard to imagine that anything could be better.

Before I wrote this blog tonight, I scrolled through my contacts list, looking for someone I could call to talk about how I felt.  And while I know there are at least five people on that list who would tell me that, when I feel like this, I can definitely call them to talk about it, I can't really imagine right now how it could possibly help.

And there's a good chance it would help, too.  But I've been depressed plenty of times before, and the thing about calling a friend is that it can sort of go both ways.  Maybe I'll hit the train of thought that led me here, and be able to follow the breadcrumbs back out of the forest.  (There's that metaphor again.)

Or maybe it'll just feel like I'm trying to justify my sadness to them, and you can't do that, because it's not justifiable.  It's just a physiological emotional response to whatever triggered it, significant or banal.  Maybe it was subconscious.  Maybe it's petty.  Maybe it was some huge event in my life I just don't want to face right now.  Maybe it's just that I haven't been eating healthy enough lately.

But the thing about that is, if I call a friend and it doesn't help, all I've done is validate the depression in my own mind, which makes it harder to drag myself out of it in just a few days.

Of course, blogging is probably just as bad, but at least it's definitely cathartic in the moment.