I noticed something was off this weekend but it really hit me Sunday night.
Allie Brosh of Hypebole and a Half did a brilliant article about depression and gave the world dead fish.
Basically, being depressed is like having dead fish that no one else admits are dead.
I noticed that lately, my fish were kinda dead.
Not just dead. Stinky dead. I’ve had dead fish before, though, so I tried to think…what had I missed?
I’d taken my meds, written, been social when possible… Why the hell were all my fish dead? But I noticed something I sometimes overlook: if I care enough to wonder why the fish have died, all the fish may not be dead…
Sure enough, one fish was still swimming. Still trying. So I did what anyone would do in that situation:
We suited up. C’mon, fish. It’s you and me against the whole damn river.