Being Told You're Depressed

So last week I decided to go ahead and finally break down and ask for help. Sadly, as much as I try to be the advanced, sensitive male, there is this raging neolithic cro-magnon man that is wielding a spear and grunting and yelling at me whenever I ask someone for help. Every man in the world can testify to the existence of this man. We'll deny it though This time around, I made sure there was a pack of woolly mammoths who went ahead and killed said cro-magnon man in a stampede, which gave me nothing but a large headache later. But I decided with the stress in life, I would go and see a psychologist.

After spending 45 minutes with her (it would have been a full 60 minutes, but the cro-magnon man had one last yelp in him from the stampede and kept me from asking directions), she was able to provide an initial diagnosis of me being depressed. To me, this was a shock. Most depressed people just sit around, mope, don't eat, don't sleep and write excessively sad poetry. I just sat at home and did nothing when not at work, sighed malcontently, didn't eat much, didn't sleep much, and wrote a slightly sad poem every once in a while. This was completely different from depression in my mind.

However, as I drove away form her office, I felt like a great burden had been lifted off of my shoulders. I was DEPRESSED! This made me so happy! I now had something to explain the way I was. I wanted to go around and tell everyone, 'Hi, my name's Bob and apparently I'm depressed! Glad to meet you.' This mood was followed by 10 minutes of crying for no reason shortly after.

Oh you wacky mood swings.

So, since I apparently have a mental/emotional condition/disease, I figure I would go ahead and use this as the sounding board for others out there. I will be providing information about depression, offer some outlooks on how to handle things, and provide poetry and thoughts about how to handle this disease. Thank you for your time!