The easiest way to describe depression to someone who doesn’t experience it is a guy tipping a glass of water over your head daily. Eventually he’s doing it more and more until all you can think about is this dickhead pouring water on you and it’s affecting every thought. You can’t be bothered leaving the house because this weird cunt is gonna follow you and find you and tip water on you, so you just stay in bed and lay in the water he’s pouring. But one day this guy stops showing up, and you’re kind of worried and nervous because he’s meant to be there, it’s like a ritual now. So you start pouring the water on yourself, hoping he’ll come back so you have a reason to be covered in water, but he doesn’t. Eventually your friends ask you why the fuck you’ve been pouring water on yourself for the past 4 years and you realize there was never any guy, it was always you.