I get very used to thinking that I’m depressed because my body has this dysfunctional reaction to things normal people handle just fine. But then it’s a Friday like today and I’m thinking, “This has been an utterly horrible week” and it hits me that it has been objectively horrible and my sadness and feeling of being at a loss is probably a pretty reasonable reaction to actual events.
My friend’s sister died of breast cancer. My friend’s grandson died from being born too soon. My friend’s friend’s son died from being accidentally shot during military training. My friend had a miscarriage. RIP, Amy. RIP, Hunter. RIP, Max. RIP, baby who would have been.
And then there’s a lot that’s happened that isn’t actual death but feels closer to that than to life. Fear and anger and hatred and scorn. Trauma and exhaustion. Being tired of trauma. It is not so easy being human this week.
If you are in the habit of feeling guilty or apologetic for depression, well, stop it. You can’t help it. But especially this week, maybe depression is the most reasonable response to external events.