There is nothing good about depression. It's like stepping barefoot into dogshit and hopping to the toilet to scrub between your toes with a toilet brush. The truth is, once the black dog is upon you and one or two triggers are pulled it makes you think about finding a double-barreled shotgun and blowing the back of your head off. People do not handle the insane very well. Support workers in doctor's offices don't look you in the eye when they talk to you. Pharmacy staff lecture you publicly about taking the cocktail of medications that keep you going. Family members resent the constant attention you require and begin to compete for attention with their own drama. Work associates avoid you, or bother you with questions like, "how are you today?" Of course you lie and say, "Capital. Any better and I couldn't stand it!"
In fact people begin to bother you. I recently hung a sign that read 'No Entry' on my gate in bold red letters but this just seems to encourage them to test it to see if it means them. There is very little to look forward to. Nothing is good. Life itself is exhausting.
Those who have been there know what it is like; the way ex smokers understand how hard it is to quit. The insane have become the pariah's of our culture. We have closed down mental institutions to save money, medicate the shit out of nuts and hope for the best. But for the truly suffering, hope is the one thing they need to be scripted for.