Blahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahclunk

Depression sucks.
Sucks my energy; sucks my creativity; sucks my optimism.
It is a heavy, burdensome weight; I slog rather than walk; I move in slow motion.
Sleep, sleep, sleep: I could sleep all day. Languish on the couch, humming in low tones.
(How did it get to be 2 p.m.? I have done nothing all day but lie on the couch.)
"Your eyes look tired," my husband tells me, this evening, as we sit in the living room.
No shit, I think.
Thank you for noticing.