Armchair Activist

Depression is a horrible thing. It feels like a literal weight that's pushing you down. And it affects everything you do.

Imagine walking down a flight of stairs. It's easy enough for your average, able bodied, uninjured person. Walking up takes a little more energy but it's not something that you would even need to think about.

Now imagine doing the same thing while carrying an armchair. Not a chair, not even an office chair, but an honest to goodness armchair. That's what everyday life feels like for someone who has depression. You don't dare put it down either, not for a second, because you just know you won't have the energy to pick it back up.

And so it goes. You wake up every day and you have the goddamn armchair to carry around, everywhere you go. And you dread it. You dread getting out of bed, you dread even attempting to do anything. You walk so slowly, stuck under this weight, that half the time you're too late by the time you get where you're going. Well, guess what? That means you get to wake up the next morning and try getting to that destination again!

It seems pointless, but you're not allowed to give up. People won't even give you the courtesy of realising that it would be merciful for you to give up. So you get to lag behind everyone, fight the death blows to your self esteem. You get to do the work of lugging the armchair and cheering yourself up. You get to invent positive thinking methods that are more creative each time, all the while knowing this is already a lost battle.