This depression has created a numbness in my mind.
Food doesn’t taste as good, alcohol and drugs don’t feel as good, emotional pain doesn’t hurt as bad and my good and bad days feel more or less the same.
I miss the highs and lows. The bad days were what made the great days feel so good. I think happiness is found inside the middle, multiplied by frequency.
I need bad days. I need terrible days. I need days that become a new worse day ever.
But depression seems to make all days seem relatively the same.
Happiness as an equation is disrupted by depression.
There is no more ceiling or basement to my days. There are just days. Some are marginally better than others but as a whole, they seem to blend together.
Behind The Suit 