Depression is a motherfucker.

It was a Friday, at the end of a long week. I knew I'd stayed in too much this week, but getting up and going out to that concert just felt hard. Plus I was working on awesome stuff and the guy who invited me wasn't going to be there and then excuse after excuse and then oh darn, too late to get there in time.

Then I ducked my run. And taking a shower. Over the objections of the guys. Then I bought some tonic water and poured a nice gin and tonic. And a second. And a third.

What awesome stuff was I working on? A product that's designed to teach people how to harness their own habits for good, how to use behavioral activation, and how to take actions that support you and the the life you want to live, despite how you feel. The irony was strong and palpable. But it was cut with a really nice lime.

Tomorrow would be a new day, and I would get back into those good habits, the things that keep me from slipping. And it is ok to take days off. But it's a reminder, subtle, but sharp, that depression doesn't take breaks. It's always there, lurking.

Waiting.