I’m stupid
I need to tell my story. If for no other reason so my kids will have a trail of popcorn into the dark wilderness of my mind. I don’t encourage them to follow, but their genetic code may leave them with no choice.
Well into middle age, I’m facing the ass-end of the pachyderm in the room. Known in clinical circles as Depression, the plague of my life. It has been the stalker bitch that no restraining order can seem to keep out of my mental house.
Self-help, drugs, and religion have all been powerless against her, but here I will expose her for what she is. A slow killer, a sponge of life, a stealth chupacabra, a loaf of white bread that constipates my neurons.