I have depression. Took me 22 years too realize it, but now, after four years of being pretty heavily (legally) medicated, I mostly can live a normal life. It seems like every time I tell someone that I have depression they assume I'm just being dramatic and making excuses for not wanting to do things. Or they think I'm trying to get sympathy or attention. I've just assumed I'm the odd one and stopped talking about it. A few weeks ago, however, I saw the movie, "Silver Linings Playbook,"and I realized from its high ratings and v popularity, I must not be the only one out there who's a little screwy upstairs. But this isn't about dealing with depression, how and when to seek help, why you shouldn't commit suicide, and all that. This is about what happens when you realize, after you're on your meds, talked shrinks' ears of, etc, this is as good as it gets. How do I deal with the conclusion that this is how I will live my life with depression. I've controlled it as much as the beast of depression can be controlled, and now I have to live with it. Some days it doesn't work. My meds are down the hatch for the day, but I still can barely get out of bed. My body feels like a ton of bricks and my head feels full of smoke. Some days I wake up in a great, cheerful, rambunctious mid and I feel fantastic, and then I get half way through my day and I feel like I've fallen into a pit. Sometimes writing helps, since it's one of my favorite passions, but then again depression is often known to cause a loss of interest in everything you once loved. Sometimes working out helps, but when your body feels like a ton of bricks it's easier said than done. I don't intend for this to be a place for me to whine and complain about how bad my life is, because it's not that bad. I simply hope to chronicle my own struggles with depression and hopefully inspire others to overcome theirs.