Apparently, this is the coldest New York winter in everyone's memory and by God, it's been brutal. I can barely park my car because of the ice wall that's formed along the sides of each street.
I haven't wanted to do anything but sit in my room, watch Dexter or Revenge (both great choices when you're already depressed) and knit my shawl. I don't want to go out, I don't want to see people. I just want to sit alone and sleep and feel sad. But, friends, this is counterproductive behavior and I don't want to be sad, miserable and lonely. I didn't bust my ass at graduate school for two years and move to New York City to sit in a basement apartment and knit alone.
So, I joined the Y, I've forced myself out of the house. I've talked to friends about how I'm feeling. I even went to the doctor. I hope I'm coming around, the last few days were a little better. I no longer feel like a boulder is sitting on my chest smooshing the air and light out of my soul. That's what depression feels like, like my soul is sick.