It’s a bad day, not a bad life.

Dark days.

We all have them, the depressed and neurotypical alike. The difference, I think, is in how we respond.

Days that suck, days that make us think we shouldn’t have bothered getting up happen to everyone. Days when the milk is sour, so no cereal, and the car maintenance light comes on and you can’t afford repairs, and the corner store is out of diet Pepsi, and work is hellish, and you get home to find the cat vomited all over the carpet in the front hall. Those kinds of days.