What's really funny about it, tho -- and no, not so much in a funny "ha ha" sort of way, no -- and also part of why it took me so long to get help is that most of the time my neither my behavior or emotions seem all that extreme.

I mean, I've friends now and have had far more in the past who engaged in all sorts of horribly risky or self-destructive behavior when they were depressed. I've known plenty who've attempted suicide, some who've actually been institutionalized, and just lots and lots of people who hate their life, can't seem to connect with anyone, and mostly really screw things up and feel bad about them later...

Alternately, I just sleep a lot and shun socializing in favor of intensely absorbing computer games.

I mean, when you think about it -- my behavior doesn't so much look like depression as it does a case of arrested development. If I was a self-absorbed high school student my behavior would be really fantastically typical -- not the best way for a person to behave, no, but hardly requiring professional intervention.

But get this -- a bit more coloration of the checkered past of your humble narrator -- I think the most hurt and insulted I've ever been was when I was about 19-20, and my mom proposed that maybe my problem was just that I was lazy.

Granted, in all my entire life, I am pretty fucking sure that's the only time she's said that, and maybe that's why I found it so bothersome. Or maybe what she was saying it about.

You see, I don't have any problem with laziness in and of itself. Some are ambitious, some are lazy -- hey, we can't all be the same, and what's the harm if a particular person just would really rather not try so hard?

But it didn't really apply to where I was. You see, I'd worked hard in school all of my life ... okay, if you've been reading you know that's not really true. I'd worked hard enough in school my whole life to do well. As I've said, mostly it was never too hard, but the point remains that I had no external motivation for this -- no pressure from family or social rewards or any of that. I did it because it was my only responsibility and, at the time, the only meaningful measure of whether I was "doing well" in life. And plus, I actually just like learning things.

All that to say, I'd gotten a full scholarship into a good program. I mean, the level of academic success I achieved right out of high school really was impressive. Had I kept on that particular track, there honestly was little chance I would not have been rather successful in my career field, and it's not an easy field to be successful in.

But, as it happens, I got to college and pretty much stopped performing. It was kinda like I am now. Somehow, I just couldn't motivate myself to do what little was required of me. I didn't have to work, and really -- how much is asked of a college undergrad, if that's all you have to worry about?

So, as I'm busy failing out of school, my mom once supposed that maybe I was just lazy.

Maybe. But if so -- maybe being lazy enough to end up homeless really should be considered a problem?

Hm. Skipped class tonight. Or more accurately, slept through class. Easy enough to do when you go to sleep at 10 a.m., I suppose. And I really need to register for next semester's classes.

Of course, I also really needed to write a paper for that class I missed tonight...

You know what, guys? Personally, I honestly suspect it's not so much a mental problem as an existential one. If, on a basic and deep level, I question if anything in life is truly worthwhile -- how exactly would we combat that?

I mean, other than acknowledging that some things are worthwhile, of course.

I don't know. Guess I'm pretty fucked up these days. Ah well. Business as usual in the midst of our crisis.

One thing I can tell you for free: Never trust a man in a blue trench coat.