I hate depression and anxiety. Let me fill this first paragraph with nothing so you have time to leave and read a happier post if that is a better way to take care of your self.
Depression and anxiety are robbers. They steal life. They steal energy. They steal joy. They steal time. They steal rest. They steal bits and pieces of life.
And occasionally, they lead to the stealing of a whole life. One of my friends, who has supported me many times, has left this earth from complications of depression and anxiety, if you will.
It is strange to think about, but our culture builds into feelings of guilt for survives, in a similar way to how modesty supporters add to the guilt of certain victims when they make the lady responsible for the man's thoughts in how she dresses. We broadcaste the stories about valedictorians telling how people saved their life from suicide by small acts of kindness, then command people not carry guilt for what they maybe could have done after someone does lose their life.
I know that a phone call from me might have bought her another few minutes of peace but probably would not change her date of death. A phone call can relieve a bit of depression, especially situational depression. But that is probably it.
And lastly, as a friend recently pointed out. I'm mad at depression and anxiety because i will not let them win in my life. They have already taken enough. Even if i give up temporarily, i have yet to give up permanently. Please, God, let me never give up permanently.
And I'm so grateful that my medication is working right now. It gives me a much wider margin of safety.