Here is a secret: I have been severely depressed for most of the past two years.
I have written it off as "moodiness", likely chemical in nature, transient, uncalled-for, inexplicable-so-it-doesn't really-exist. But it does exist.
This depression is really a problem, undeniably.
Sometimes I feel as though I'm treading water, which no one can do forever and which only prolongs the inevitable. I hate that I'm depressed so much of the time. I hate that I deal with it by drinking - it doesn't even matter whether I drink "too much" or not; the fact that I drink (any amount) to deal with depression is a bad thing. I hate that I see little but a bleak landscape ahead of me. Something becomes visible in the distance - a concert, a week at music camp, an afternoon with my cellist friend, the day I can run 10 miles continuously again - and I attach way too much importance to it. It can't save me, I am the only one who can save me, but I can't even hold it together for an entire day. I don't know what to do. This can't go on.