The interesting thing about this depression is that my Symphonians novel is dealing with depression as well as symphony musicians, lovestruck shy people, responsibility, ethics, etc. And I'm seeing that the way I'm handling my depression now is different than the way I would have handled it back in high school and college.
Mainly it's the fact that I have my kid here. I must bestir myself and be sure she's fed, control my snappishness and irritablility, and not turn into a lump the way I'd like to. In the old days, I would have just given in to my sad mood and laid around and been mopy. But I also recognize, though virtue of past experience (!! should have been a college prof), that to be a lump all day is not getting anything done, is not good for me. But the kid's really been a motivating factor to get over this depression.
I can't hide it from her that I'm depressed; that would be stupid. It's kind of hard to miss that I'm depressed: I lay myhead on the table during suppertime and mumble a lot and I don't smile constantly as I usually do. So if I told my kid, "I'm fine!" that would not be keeping it real, as Carl Rogers says. Relationships must be honest, feelings must be acknowledged. I tell her I'm not feeling well, that I'm depressed, and that means I'm sad and mopy a lot, but I've seen the doctor and I'm doing the things she told me to do because I want to get better and get zany and smiley again.
Not to mention that depression is a general pain in the ass.
But I've been writing down how I feel in hopes that these feelings will be useful in the novel. Might as well get some good out of it.