The new cruellest month

It's August, the time of year for depression. Everything I do seems harder, meaningless, and subject to grueling self-criticism.

Fortunately, it's mild so far, but it's a difficult state to try to find a job in. Or an operative relationship with a God.

If you interact with me on a personal level, and you are not my wife, you probably won't even notice. If I have the giveadamn to leave the house, then I can generally put on a good enough public face.

But this is also the time of year when I disappear for a while, because putting on that face is increasingly taxing. Depression is insidious because it doesn't just bring you down, it saps your ability to get help.

Talking usually loosens the blockage somehow. Maybe blogging will do something similar.

Update: Good news from Scientific American! Depression makes me a better analytic thinker! Hooray?