Pills, Pills, Pills (sung to the tune of Bills, Bills, Bills)

Interacting with depression has consisted of repeated instances of me telling myself I don’t have depression followed by a series of pretty strong indications that, maybe, I do. It’s a long road to acceptance, even longer if you keep taking detours along the way. The denial stage of dealing with depression has been long and…

Sleep – an ongoing game of chicken with the universe

I never want to go to sleep. Inversely I also never want to wake up in the morning (okay, let's be honest, early afternoon). I could sleep all day, not straight through, I'm not a bear, which I guess don't truly hibernate, so maybe I am! I would take a few pee breaks and wake…

Say My Name, Say My Name.

I recently decided to name my depression. His name is Hal, and he's a he because he's a dick. (Sorry fellas) We all know the first step is admitting you have a problem. The second, lesser-known step, is naming your problem. You can't name it something cute or elusive like GlumGlum or Sisyphezche. You have…