This is What Depression Looks Like

Last month I hired a professional organizer to help me with my living space. I had this vision of a part content locker, part creative studio, part apartment complete with a bed and a kitchen but the reality of my health was preventing that from happening. Existing in the current state of my space had begun to feel filmy, like each action was weighted by 10,000 lbs. This is the reality of depression. It’s what millions of people hide behind doors they never open or shower curtains that always stay closed. I carefully reveal to the world tidbits of this perfectly coiffed version of myself, but I don’t dare show the whole gambit. The Diet Coke cans tossed on the floor of my car, the garbage filling my nightstand and countertop, the boxes blocking the walkways and fire exits. 

Do you remember that episode of Grey’s Anatomy where Christina shows Meredith her apartment and says her cleaning lady quit? Hi. I’m her. The cleaning lady quit because my apartment stressed HER out. We have to laugh.

I did have my sister and my mom do a sweep before the organizer, Amy (Saint Amy, really), came of all coffee cups, tissues, and garbage that was obvious. I was left with the disarray. My life, in a bunch of material objects.