No, but actually.
I hate to be redundant in the use of the most popular white girl phrases of our time, but being depressed can mean just that sentiment: I can’t even.
I can’t even get out of bed today.
I can’t even make myself breakfast.
I can’t even get dressed
I can’t even open my books to do my homework.
I can’t even call my grandmother to see how she’s doing.
Being depressed, I am constantly dealing with such an all-encompassing apathy. The feelings of not wanting to exist have made asking myself, “what’s the point?” apply to every part of my life.
There are days when every mundane action seems impossible. This past summer was extremely difficult for me: working overtime at two jobs, really struggling financially, the usual qualms with existence. This stress escalated my depression–and the apathy that my depression often comes with–so that at one point I found…
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