Depression, Interrupted
Over the last twenty years, I have struggled with depression. Some years are good. Some years are sad. Some years are gray and boring. Medication helps: it is the trampoline under my window… if I jump, the fall will be jolted, and peter out. There is always a question in my head when I wake up: will this be the day when I am unwilling to move, to get out of bed, to brush my hair or water my plants? Still, depression is a gift.
