I go to a friend's house twice a week to catch up and read for a bit. Yesterday we were talking about how we are when we're depressed. Mostly we talked about how every tiny thing gets on our nerves. Things that shouldn't even be things get turned into raging irritation. This is where I was yesterday.
It started after I had lunch. I noticed that the music I was listening to wasn't making me happy anymore. That was weird enough because We The Kings is one of my favourite bands. Then my dad came upstairs and I noticed that just his existence was irritating. That's when I knew for sure that I was falling into a depression.
Last night, however was the worst. See, my mom and I take our medications at the same time so neither of us forgets. I have punch that I take mine with. I opened the fridge to find my punch had been pushed to the back. No big deal, right? Wrong. I almost blew a fuse over it. That's when I gave in and started crying.
When I'm not feeling well, my mom (and usually Dad, too) will stay up with me instead of going to bed. Last night, I put in the sixth Harry Potter and we watched that until I got tired. After all, depression in my house means Harry Potter night!
Today, I stayed in bed until ten thirty because, well, I have nothing to do. Having nothing to do generally adds to my depression. Maybe I'll reorganise my books again...