This. Depression. Intrusive thoughts. Effy said it better than I can because I still struggle to say it out loud.
Only I call the intrusive thoughts 'Brain Weasels'. Because they are kind of like the hamsters, the thoughts that go round and round, but more dangerous. Don't believe them. They dance, they twist, they are seductive and powerful. But they lie.
And when they seem stronger than I am, I hold on to just one thing. I want to know what happens next.
Curiosity is one of my strongest characteristics.
That and a morbid sense of humour.
The other thing I struggle with is keeping those two under wraps. The things that I am inspired to blurt out aren't really socially appropriate.
Society can get stuffed. Wellbeing and death and pain and joy are all part of life. Ignoring one aspect dulls the others.
Which suddenly ties in to this in progress painting.