Depression is oppression of the soul. What psychiatrists call anhedonia – an inability to experience pleasure – truly plunders the spirit. When you’re depressed, everything leans towards the drain. You don’t want to go out or see friends or ride a bike. In a weird way what you want most is more depression. Further isolation and inactivity dangles alluringly in front of you, offering a tasty morsel of relief. But it always turns to ash in your mouth.

Once again, you’ve been deceived to by depression.

When depression is your roommate, everything is dull. The losses start to pile up. Inertia grinds to a halt. You imagine that everyone is mad at you. You close the blinds and peek outside, waiting for the storm to pass.

Depression won’t let you be, it’s a constant buzzing in your brain. It’s your next-door neighbor’s car alarm going off in the middle of the night, it blares and blares for far too long – won’t someone come outside and turn the damn thing off!? Please, leave us be!!

Depression is a mean-spirited parrot, that sits on your shoulder tearing you down. “Aaacck!! You’re a loser!! Aaaack!! Ugly. Fat. Loser!!” You feed it a cracker or two, but it spits them right out. He at pecks you with his beak, those creepy bird eyes threatening to eat your flesh.

In a rare moment of motivation, you decide to go do something. So, you went out fishing and fell through the ice. Depression is death by hypothermia. It feels so good to sleep and lie down, the desire to doze trumps all. Just rest your eyes for a moment and let the impulse to shut down wash over your body.

Yet, if you close your eyes you may never wake up again. What feels so right is in fact so wrong. It is lying to you again, that’s not sleep you’re feeling but asphyxiation.

Open your eyes! Try your best to stay awake one moment at a time. Don’t give in or you may never wake up again.

And if you should be able to stay awake, perhaps you’ll have just enough energy to crawl through the snow, back to the house where you came from. It will be difficult and slow, but it’s your own only way out now.

And if by some chance you (much later) arrive back at the house, you’ll find a rocket propelled grenade launcher on the back patio. Pick it up and go inside.

Inside you must aim it at the mean parrot and pull the trigger. Don’t stop firing until his feather particles float in the air like a fine dust and pieces of his beak are lodged in the wall. Blow those beady little eyes and menacing beak to smithereens.

In the absence of the parrot’s constant negative chatter, you’ll sit in silence for a moment and vaguely remember what this house once was like. Unfortunately, the blessed moment won’t last too long because the next-door neighbor’s car alarm starts to blare.

It keeps going off, but this time you act. Heading over to their front door, you knock and kindly ask them to turn it off. Not only that, but the two of you have an uncomfortable, yet productive conversation. You politely confront your neighbor about his lack of consideration when it comes to the noise and ask him to be more mindful about this car alarm of his in the future. Surprisingly, he agrees and apologizes. You head home.

By this point, you’re feeling pretty good about how the day is going. So many things you’ve been meaning to address are falling into place. As you walk through the front door of your house, a thought crosses your mind: I’ve already accomplished so much today, why not give myself a little break?

It’s at that exact moment you look up to see your roommate on the couch, his Cheeto stained fingers tapping on the controller of a Playstation. “Wanna hang out for a bit?” he says.

Now this roommate of yours is not exactly the most ambitious person out there. He doesn’t seem to care much about getting a job or going out with friends. He doesn’t exactly take care of himself or do any chores around the house. Actually, to be completely honest, he doesn’t do much of anything! He plays games, procrastinates, and avoids responsibility.

Yet, he’s a nice guy and a good person to chill with. And while you may not leave your time spent with him feeling energized and excited, there’s a familiar comfort in settling in on the couch next to him and watching the hours while away in the blue light glimmer of the television screen.

So, will you hang out? His request seems reasonable.

“No, I’m sorry you have to leave. We’re doing something different in this house now and you just can’t stay and be a part of it.” You kick him out right then and there, and surprisingly he doesn’t put up much of a fight. He just kind of slinks away out the door, passively muttering under his breath.

Whew, the house is finally yours again. No roommate, no parrot, no obnoxious neighbor. You look around at your surroundings with a new set of eyes. You’re seeing things with a clarity that’s been missing for a long time. You sweep up the floor and open the blinds. The light shines in and you can see even better. There’s a momentum, a desire to do things again. Maybe a bike ride, a walk with a friend, or something to eat?

It’s then that you notice, the tasty morsel you’d been snacking on before was actually nothing more than a bowl of ashes.