Depression is different for everyone.
Depression finds energy to do the dishes, but not enough to dry them.
Depression forgets to add one last thing on the to do list.
Depression takes a sledgehammer to whatever is left.
Depression grabs the throat. Anxiety wakes in the dark.
Depression has determination, but no gall.
Depression dreams about getting more sleep.
Depression lusts for a threesome with my boyfriend, who only wants to understand.
Depression lives in Spain with the man I planned to marry, and not the one I now hope to.
Depression wonders why Ellen DeGeneres has not absorbed my student loans.
Depression remains unmarried, and does not expect its first child.
Depression would not make a good mother anyway.
Depression tells hypochondria to pay for a gratuitous MRI.
Depression hopes to clear the air, eventually. Perpetually.
Depression passes time by rounding up.
Depression steals the ability to smile.
Depression discovers hiding places deep in the brain.
Depression ransacks a village and spares no one.
Depression knows a toddler's laugh or a newborn lamb can't help you.
Depression crumbles in a hug.
Depression walks three miles to art class.
Depression needs to watch its figure.
Depression eats too much.
Depression gives to charity.
Depression runs out of change.
Depression remembers everyone's name.
Depression works a room but cannot keep a job.
Depression accumulates way too much laundry.
Depression saves up for a future it cannot see.
Depression vows to never leave.
Depression suffers from blindness.
It commits acts of kindness.
Depression chats with the soul.
Depression loses its keys along with its sense of reason.
Depression sets goals and it sets my alarm.