Is This What’s Really Going On? Notes from Therapy

I screwed up some scheduling and it’s driving me crazy.  It didn’t matter in the slightest – God love me some absentminded economists – but it makes me feel like a screw-up, out of control of everything, second- and third- and forth-guessing myself.

I hate myself for it.

I hate myself for it.

That is depression. Depression is your toughest critic, your meanest boss, your cattiest friend.  In short, depression is an asshole

I know perfectly well it’s depression and yet?  Still can’t make it go away.   So instead I spent an hour reality-checking with my therapist.  Working through the steps of telling my depression to fuck itself; to focus on that everything was fine; to come up with new shiny successful tasks; to second-guess my emotions, not myself.

My new motto for the week is “is that what’s really going on?”


I think I liked it better when the motto was “is it really snowing again?!?!?”

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