The Depression Diaries

What does it look like inside my own head? And why would I want to share it?

Lately I have been feeling, to use the words of Bo Burnham, like a big ol’ motherf#@^ing duffel bag of sh*t. Listening to his song about it usually makes me laugh, but today it just seems like an apt description.

I’ve made this essay only available to paid subscribers, since I consider sharing my inner world to be extremely self indulgent and frankly pathetic, and I would only want someone who is genuinely interested - enough to actually pay - to read these shameful and embarrassing thoughts. Shameful not because they are excitingly controversial or interesting in any way, but for their sheer mundanity and the ridiculousness of being upset enough by them to descend into slothful inactivity and the grey world that my depression is.