This is going to be a little out of order, I think.

Why? Because I probably shouldn’t do this until I do the post I kinda want to do about what depression is like, for me. But I don’t want to do that right now. Not only do I not feel like I could, but I’ve got this giant looming ‘Others have done it better, very recently’ thing going on.

So you’re getting this instead.

All my previous posts about how much of a wreck I am have only been scratching the surface. On good days, I’m basically a ghost ship of a human — rarely seen, probably a myth, and carrying a curse for those who do happen to come across me.

I suppose I have to go into a few things, otherwise the ‘can’t help yourself’ thing won’t make sense.

Depression’s a funny thing. Hilarious, apparently. If you’re in to Carrot Top.

No, that’s not right. Depression’s more like…you’ve got the best game in the world — or it’s supposed to be the best game in the world, this blend of Action and RPG with puzzles and a little survival horror and a huge social element. But your copy is nothing but glitches and errors. You spend a whole bunch of time trying to install it, run into errors, a few issues with system requirements [even though you made sure you had everything you needed], and then, finally, when you try to run it? Freezing, glitches, textures don’t load, the sound cuts out randomly. EVERYTHING is either foggy, or the draw distances are abysmal. And you just can’t do certain things.

Really basic things, like getting out of bed, or personal hygiene.

And it’s horrible, because other people are raving about this game — it’s amazing and wonderful. Unlocking things is sometimes hard, but it’s so worth it — but you’re not seeing it.

Other people make suggestions as to what you’re doing wrong — because, obviously, you’ve done something incorrectly.

That doesn’t help at all.

The magic moment comes when you find out that there are other people having the same issues.

Something else I’ve mentioned before: most of my friends are online friends. This is partly because, well, not only is my copy of this great, genre-spanning videogame more broken than Superman 64, but the only parts that seem to work are the parts Frictional Games thought were a little too scary for their other games.

Yes, I’m going to torture that metaphor until it gives me what I want. You can’t stop me, because torturing metaphors isn’t a crime.

So, here I am, an unwashed mess that rarely leaves the house. Or, to put it in terms other people would understand: your basic loser, because I get to know people better online. How could this possibly be a good thing?

It’s a good thing because there are other people out there with similar problems. And some of them are my friends because of the internet.

And I can help them.

See, metaphors and funny drawings and non-metaphorical-descriptive-storytelling aside, it’s very, very hard for someone not going through this shit to understand what’s going on. You can explain it a thousand different ways, and, while they might understand, they won’t get it. And you’ll be exhausted and disheartened from explaining it a thousand different ways.

Talking to someone is good, though. Talking to a doctor is probably better, because they’re trained. For everything else, though? I think it’s actually best to know someone who’s down there with you.

Because, while you’re obviously not alone, knowing someone who can, with perfect honesty, say that they know exactly what you mean? It means you’re not alone.

To an outsider, that might sound like a recipe for wallowing.

It’s not.

Yeah, we’re not going to be telling each other to ‘not think about it’, or to ‘get out an exercise’ or ‘just get some sun, it always cheers me up!’ What we’re doing is…different.

We’re helping. Each other. Without even meaning to. Because of the ‘not alone’. We’re suddenly together in this pit [yeah, I changed metaphors without signalling, call the literary cops], and we only just found out.

Now that we know we’re in the same pit, that next ledge up doesn’t seem quite so out of reach. And if either of us falls? Someone’s really close by to reach out a hand.