There is a saying floating around the Internets, I believe coined by the Bloggess (or at least I am giving her credit. Kinda like the whole I didn't say you were at fault, I said I was going to blame you thing)...it is simply "Depression lies."
It tells you you are no good.
It tells you things will never get better.
It tells you no one will miss you if you are gone, and even if they do they will quickly get over it.
It tells you there is no joy in life.
It tells you that you are choosing to feel this way and deserve it because of a fundamental flaw in your make up and if you really really wanted to you could just get over it.
It lies to you. Over and over and over again, and sucks you down into the abyss without you even realizing it. And then when you are trying to climb out, the fucker greases the walls and laughs at you while you frantically try to get to the top.
To be able to feel something, anything, besides that deep dark hole in the pit of your stomach that keeps sucking you in and making you slide back down.
And one of the most remarkable things about those who suffer from depression, is that they continue to try to climb back up those walls. They continue to breathe. Continue to survive, when their very being is screaming for relief and the only surefire way to get it is through death.
A person with depression is the opposite of weak. Imagine trying to get up out of bed with a 500 lb weight on your chest. That has weight added to it every day, so that you can never get accustomed to it and stronger. That tells you that it will never go away and what a horrible person you are. And then you have to try to accomplish daily tasks, like bathing. Caring for others. Working. Living. Maybe even laughing when all you want to do is scream and curl up inside yourself.
It's hard, but sometimes you start to climb out of that abyss. The fog lifts and motivation returns. Your capacity to feel joy comes back. You want to bathe versus doing it just so the people you live with can tolerate you.
But it's always there in the back of your mind, that you could slip up and slide back down. And then you do, and that just gives the depression more ammo to use against you.
You were feeling better.
If you were a better/stronger/smarter person, you wouldn't backslide so easily.
You're fucking up your family/friends/relationships/career.
All that progress you made...for nothing.
And yet still, you climb up the slippery walls, ignoring the mocking laughter coming from the abyss. Because you are going to survive. You know it's a fatal disease sometimes, but you try and try and try.
Because depression lies.