It’s not that time passes slowly but that time passes emptily. Empty of thoughts other than the self-lacerating kind, the mind passes the time quickly, preoccupied as it is with itself.
Quick: how do other people pass their time on a Sunday afternoon? Errands, trips to the park and the movies? Are they lacerating themselves or entertaining themselves to death? How many emails are they catching up on?
Depression pushes people away. They don’t go off on their own accord. You push them away. By not responding, by not calling back, by acting as if you don’t care about anyone but yourself because, really, let’s look at it face value, open-faced, like a kind of sandwich — you don’t care about other people while you’re depressed. You’re just curious about them, and that’s different than empathy. Psychotic depression. Sociopathic depression.
But you’re good at hiding it. You must act as though you’re not a sociopath today. It’s Sunday and you must not succumb. Your birthday might be coming up and it’s time you grew up and grew out of this.
Quick: what do other people feel?
