As anyone who has ever dealt with depression for any length of time can attest, there will be days that you just can’t get out of bed. Not that you don’t want to, but that you cannot emotionally get out of bed. The very thought of arising and facing the world is so inconceivable that your body becomes a leaden weight, stuck in its place. Your brain is stuck, your body is stuck, you are stuck. No amount of cajoling or bargaining that you do with yourself will work. You are staying in bed. Hopefully just for the morning, but more likely than not all day. If you do happen to get yourself up and about, Eeyore will seem like a cheerleader in contrast to your energy and motivation. It sucks. It is a part of living with depression, and it sucks.

I had that day yesterday. I was late to work, but I did eventually get myself out of bed. There wasn’t anything in particular that happened to cause this, just a bunch of little things that had all been adding up for a while. I think mother’s day was probably the straw that broke the camel’s back, but who knows. At any rate, I am know working at digging myself back out. Climbing that hill to get back to the top where there’s sunshine. So until I get my writing groove back on, here’s a compilation of dog fails. Because, with the exception of the slide, Bubba has done every one of these, and that makes me smile.