I have Depression, and I don't care.

About six months ago, I was diagnosed with depression. I went with my significant other to get the prescription filled, and cracked jokes about the tabloid magazines while we waited in line. She said, “And they say you're depressed?” to which I replied, “It takes many forms.” She didn't really understand how I could be considered depressed, but appear normal, or at least “normal” by my standard. The truth is, I don't fully understand it either, but when I got that diagnosis I felt like saying, “No shit, dude. What am I paying you for, again?”

I don't really remember a time when I was truly happy for more than an hour or so. There's been a dark cloud trailing me ever since I can remember, but I'm blessed with something wonderful: stubbornness. Some would credit this to my astrology, (Taurus) but I credit it to my genetics. My family has always been full of defiant individuals, and for that I am grateful. I come from “a long line of bootleggers, and horse thieves” as my father once put it. I'm not sure if this is where I get my love of alcohol, and disdain for authority figures, but I like it, and it serves me well.

When I get into a particularly dark passage of life, I always tell myself “I'm fine” over, and over. I say it until I either believe it, or have to focus my attention on something else. The pills I take are somewhat helpful, but I know this is a battle I have to fight on my own for the rest of my life. The bad thing about this medication is if I forget to take it, I feel horrible the next day. This is no way to live, and I hate the way our health-care system is designed to just pump you full of medication, and keep billing you to death. Honestly, I view doctors in no higher regard than most mechanics; they're both just trying to screw you out of money.

One of the key symptoms of depression in males is anger, and being the thrifty person I am, I squander no resource. Anger fuels me, and helps me fight. In the past it has gotten the best of me, but I get a little better at dealing with it every day. As strange as it may sound, anger, and stubbornness are my allies, and I call upon the latter often. The main reason I haven't given up on everything is because I'm just too damn hard-headed. That, and the fact that I still have things to accomplish. There's no way I'm letting my detractors win. Fuck them. I imagine that when the reaper comes for me, I'll be challenging him to a fist fight for my soul, or perhaps just a game of battleship. (Plus 5 cool points if you get that reference.)

“Fuck you, death, I'm busy!” I snarl as a hand reaches out from under a robe of pure darkness. “Just the other day, you wanted to die.” he hisses, to which I reply, “So? I used to wanna be a baseball player when I was a kid, and I fuckin hate baseball!” I can't be sure, but I think I see a smile from under the hood, as he vanishes into mist leaving the words “I'll be back” echoing in my head. “And I'll be ready to tell you to go fuck yourself once again.” I spit, returning to my coffee, and audio interface.

It gets confusing in this noggin of mine, but at the same time, I love a challenge. Every day is like a dungeon crawl with zero power-ups, and only one life. All I have to fight through this is my wits, a few good friends, and blood coursing with pure determination. My dad once pulled himself into his vehicle with a stick, and drove himself to get help while his spine clung together by only an eighth of an inch. You're not really supposed to be able to do that, but he didn't let that stop him. That's where I'm coming from. Fuck depression, fuck this medication, and fuck this overly-negative world. I will keep going purely out of spite if I have to, and sometimes I do just that.

I don't want anyone to read this, and think I'm being “brave” or anything like that. There's nothing brave about telling the world you often feel dead inside; it's just depressing. I write this stuff because getting it out feels a lot better than holding it in. That, and the fact that I am running out of fucks to give; the reserves are being depleted, and I am numb to the world. If someone can read this, and get inspired to be defiant in the face of anything, and everything that works to bring you down, that's great. What I really want you to take away from this is that no matter how you feel inside, you can't let that stop you. You can't count on anyone to reach out, or care, you just have to keep pushing. As long as you care, that's all that matters because at the end of the day, you're the one who has to do the fighting. Gnash your teeth at the world, and fight like your life depends on it, because it does.