One of my favorite authors, Jenny Lawson, likes to say that depression “lies,”  and she is absolutely right. It tells you that the world is better off without you, that you might as well give up trying, that you are a worthless waste of a human being.  Depression says, “See that book you just wrote and the agent rejected?  Failure!  What kind of Dumb idea was that?”  It yells, “That was a Sneaky move to try anti-depressants! This is collusion!”  It wakes you up in the middle of the night with thoughts like, “Build a WALL to keep out pain!” and “MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!”

Is it just me, or does depression sound vaguely familiar?