Anxiety is easy to anthropomorphize; it’s an active, aggressive, jittery thing, a whining beast that scratches at the door and your legs. It’s easy to hate anxiety, the way it demands your attention and can’t hold still. Even when you send it away, you can still hear it scrabbling around in other rooms, getting into everything so you have to check on it constantly. Depression, though, is harder to compress into a living shape. It’s too passive, too massive, a dense fog cutting you off from light and sound. Depression is like a weather event, something so innately uncontrollable that you have to work around it instead of with it. You can chase the beast of anxiety away for a while, or perhaps give it a bone to chew, but for depression you have only one option – wait for the weather to change. Nothing you do will make any difference to a cold front or storm system. That’s why it’s harder to hate depression; it isn’t consciously trying to make you miserable, it’s just current environmental conditions.

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