Another Visit with Depression

Depression was down on the couch this morning with cup of freshly brewed coffee in his hand. As I came in he said nothing, merely handing the cup to me.

This was not particularly indicative of a good thing.

We sat there is the second-eating silence filled only by the kitchen clock as I sipped and he looked on. He finally broke the silence.

"Kind of a rough week this week" he said in a half joking manner. I continued to sip my coffee in silence.

"Yesterday really wasn't that good either." He looked at me to see if I would respond. I met his eyes, sighed, then focused back on drinking my coffee.

He sighed. "You're not making this easy, you know. When Depression is trying to lift your spirits, something is just not right."

I smiled weakly through the coffee. "It's not that I don't appreciate it, you understand. It's just that, well, yesterday really wasn't a very good day - and I have to make it through one more day, dealing both with the fallout as well as everything new on my plate. It's a bit much."

Depression got up and disappeared into the stove-light gloom of the kitchen, returning with his own cup of coffee. "So what bothered you about it the worst?" he asked as he sat down.

I sighed mid-sip, then lowered the cup. "The futility" I replied. "No matter what I do, I know I'm not going to achieve what I am expected to achieve. I fully expect to be blamed for almost everything that has occurred this week, correctly or no. It's bad enough when you know you haven't done what you were supposed to - it's worse when you have the weight of the expectation of others to fix the problem hanging over your head."

Depression merely nodded silently, then took a sip. "So what do you do?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "What can I do?" I replied. "It's not as if a magic solution has suddenly presented itself, or will present itself. Soldier on as best I can, I guess. Figure out where I can lift time from my things to make other things happen. It's my job in life, right? Serve others, make sure others are provided for. There was no guarantee of personal happiness or satisfaction."

We both sat in silence, sipping coffee. Finally, Depression reached into his shirt pocket. "I made something for you" he said.

I took it from his hand and looked at it. It was a homemade coupon that said

"Get of Depression Free Card

This card entitles the bearer to one (1) depression free day of his choosing.
Present this card at time of requested depression free day.
Includes the provision of pizza and an alcoholic beverage of the bearer's choosing"

"You understand" Depression hastened to add as I read "that I normally don't do this. This is between us, right? It's just well..you know...you're even depressing me now."

I snorted in laughter as I put the coupon in my pocket. "Thanks" I said. "I appreciate it. Really.

"Well" he said, suddenly rising to his feet in a hurry, as if he was concerned he'd gone to far, "I'll be seeing you. Soon, I'm thinking. I'll be just around the corner of your mind."

I nodded. "I know" I replied. "At least I can be confident that I'll not be blamed by you for things you don't do." His quiet laughter followed him out of the room as the coffee laden air swirled with him, bearing the unlikely hope of morning where, for once, Depression might be on my side.