Flicking through the albums I've posted on facebook, my husband says, "Wow. These make our life seem so amaaaaaazing." I get his drift. He's the only one who knows, of course, that they don't show the icky bits minutes, hours, and days before and after. For example, they don't show the day after visiting the charming medieval village when I couldn't get out of bed.
For ten hours straight I watched an entire season of "The Real Housewives". I didn't eat or bathe and I grunted when spoken to. The beautiful ancient Italian city outside my apartment, yet to be fully explored, might as well have been Mars. There was not one bit of carpe diem that day.
And this was BEFORE I found out that my dream of living and working in Italy was dead, simply because I was born on the wrong side of the Atlantic. THEN I really had something to be depressed about. But that's another story.
Two or three times a year I have days where I'm completely incapacitated by my oldest and dearest pal, Depression. She's followed me across the globe, tumbling out of every overhead compartment despite my best efforts to secure her away into the deepest and darkest of recesses.
She follows me on runs, but luckily after two or three kilometres, she gives up the chase. This is why I run nearly every day.
So how do I get myself up off the couch and functioning again? I just get myself up off the couch and functioning again! If you listen to Mark Kermode's film review, you'll get that lame joke. I've just learned to will myself out of it, much like you have to force yourself awake during a very unpleasant bout of sleep paralysis.
Why only bullshit happy posts then? Why not be real and post on facebook, "Can't get out of bed today. Hashtag: depression sucks"? Many reasons. I don't want to. If I don't say it, it's not real. Other people have real problems. Etc, etc.
BUT, know this: The happy photos are not brags. They're not attempts to be deceptive or try to outhappy others. They're for her, Depression. They're my way of telling her to f**k right off. And when I see the photographic evidence of my relatively good life (health, partnership, adventure), she does.
