To clarify: I’m not saying I have full-blown depression again.
I know what that feels like and this ain’t it. No, what I’m saying is that I can feel the depression…lurking. We’re like Will and the Mind Flayer from season 3 of Stranger Things. And I’m Will in this metaphor, just in case you had any doubts. I can sense the depression is nearby, waiting to pounce. Or, since we’re calling it the MindFlayer, waiting to pump me full of chemicals until I explode into a pile of flesh goo that then becomes absorbed into the MindFlayer’s fifty foot tall fleshy goo form.
(Aside: I’d like to take this opportunity to point out that Noah Schnapp was WOEFULLY underused in season 3 of Stranger Things. The kid is an acting beast. We all know he can do more than be a glorified Spidey Sense.)
My Depression Flayer has been lying surprisingly low for the last month. I thought for sure that the holiday times would provoke it, but not yet. I had an almost scary ultrasound followed by a completely normal follow-up ultrasound, and I thought FOR SURE it would rise up during the intervening two weeks. Nope.
In the meantime, CONSTANT VIGILANCE.