My Depression Is A Bad Employee

After over half a decade of feeling this heavy sense of grief and overall mental discomfort, it becomes your normal. It’s kind of like seeing a coworker you hate every day for years on end. You grow used to it and deal with it, but you pray for the day they put their two weeks…

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empty black rolling chairs at cubicles
Photo by kate.sade on Unsplash

When I wake up in the morning, there is at least a 10 second point where I think, “Not this shit again.” Then I sit up, I kiss my dog’s head, and I start my day. It seems that every day is this endless cycle of the same things over and over again. It’s hell.

After over half a decade of feeling this heavy sense of grief and overall mental discomfort, it becomes your normal. It’s kind of like seeing a coworker you hate every day for years on end. You grow used to it and deal with it, but you pray for the day they put their two weeks in. You feel trapped and suffocated, and if we’re being honest here, my depression’s cubicle is too close to mine and it smells like B.O.

Off and on throughout my life, I’ve thought about putting my two weeks in first. I can’t handle the way my depression is so discouraging, and negative, and puts such a damper on my day. It talks this big game about how I’ll never be good enough and overshadows the amazing things that happen throughout my day. For every win I get, it points out five losses. It spits on my happy moments and makes it hard to feel motivated to work towards anything positive. I know it’s just going to get ruined anyway, right?

But my depression is a bad employee. It sits on its ass all day and doesn’t do any real work. It spends its time across the hall talking with Anxiety and plotting how they’re going to ruin my day. I overhear the way they speak and they’re not too intelligent. It makes me realize they won’t be getting the promotion I’ve been working towards in life.

I use this little piece of motivation to keep me going. I want so badly to give up sometimes. I go home and cry about how hard it is to just keep getting up every morning and going to the same damn place with the same damn issues and getting bullied by an entity that lives within my own head. However, I also have this growing anger in me, that tells me that Depression wants me to put my two weeks in. It wants to win this stupid, petty office war. This anger tells me that I can’t let it do that. I’m not allowed to let someone who’s not even good at what they do win.

So, I keep getting up every morning. I kiss my dog. I do this shit again. Because, I know that there’s a promotion waiting for me at the end of this line, and I’m gonna be there to see it.