I read a book today. The book was Faulkner’s As I lay Dying. I was depressed the whole time I was reading it, or at least I was depressed until I got close to the very end. I do get depressed. I get depressed when something is happening that I have no control over.
I was depressed about the book until Darl set the barn on fire. As crazy as that was, it was less crazy than what Anse was doing to Darl and his other children. Once one of them took control, my depression lifted and I was sad.
Sad is better. It is better than depression. Sad is like a coat that’s on me that I can remove myself when I am ready, but depression is like a coat that has been put upon me while I am sleeping and I cannot remove it. I cannot control it.