When I was a young man I used to have a lot of problems with “depression.” I’d often say to myself: “What’s wrong with me? Why do I feel depressed so much of the time?”

And different people would reccomend that I see a therapist. Or suggest that maybe it was “bio-chemical” and that perhaps I could attain chemical balance by taking the latest wonder med. Or maybe I was “manic-depressive” as if perhaps i was suffering from some kind of psychological disease and there was even a fancy name to describe it (“bi-polar” was another one that was popular back then, as well as the perennial favorite “schizophrenia”).

I don’t worry about it much anymore. I just accept that a lot of this life can be really fucking sad. And just leave it at that.






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