In my mind I drew this during a time when my mattress was on the floor, covered in floor stuff by day, looking as depressed as I was at the time. But really by now I had a pretty nicely put together room, a bed I insisted on making, a small but full equipped desk area, and a reasonably streamlined clothes filing system. I had worked through all the things I used to do when, in my mind, I was happier and life was easier, but neither were true. How closely do I tie the state of one's bed with the state of everything else? These days I make mine up every day, in stolen seconds away from the baby and husband, knowing full well I could slide back to a depressed state at any time. I can't afford to be in that state anymore. Having a depressed person's bed is, in itself, a luxury free time affords. The time it takes to make my bed is not free - it belongs to my family, who depends on my own stability. Sometimes I wonder if that simplifies and improves my life, having my time belong to straightforward tasks that, upon completion, make me feel needed and fulfilled. Knowing where to put that time caused me years of anguish.
6 thoughts on “#658 + 659 – life’s basically just super deep”
And here we have a very cursed Hanna face in panel 1.
Oh my god you're right haha
Thanks for posting these insights. There’s something about this dialogue that made me realize these two were always going to be best friends.
I can sort of see how making one's bed could be grounding or cathartic for a depressed person. But personally I thrive in messy disorganization and making my bed would just feel like a complete waste of time, so I don't.
Oh man that commentary hits close to me.
I went from an air mattress on a floor of a touring caravan's awning, to sharing a smaller bed but with my now boyfriend in another, but more familiar country. Multiple situations in the background led to my depression, and I'd never want or care for my "bed" before, there were tans, bugs, the ceiling would leak, casually a tree branch would fall over my head into the tent ceiling, so cold my muscles would cramp up.. But now I go out of my way to make the bed, make sure the under sheet hasn't slipped and to tidy it up, put a blanket over it, put little cushions in their designated place before I get going on the day.
Before it was just a bit of furniture or something I couldn't care for, but now It's a comfort
Your commentary is a really nice perspective, thank you for sharing it
there's certainly something to be said about external factors like family providing a clarifying focus to things when we're liable to wallow in depression. I have depression sometimes sliding into panic, but in an actual emergency, I can pretty well keep an iron grip over my emotions until everything has settled down.