Fuzzy thinking is so severe at times; we could describe it as a 'syndrome'; rather than just a single symptom of depression. Some people refer to fuzzy thinking as 'brain fog.' I call it cotton-wool-head.
One of the beautiful aspects of this recovery is being able to see properly again; to see a flower appearing out of the darkness and appreciate its depth of colour, pumps the zest through my arteries.
I describe depression in combination with darkness a lot and often liken this to living on the edge of death. It's not because I always sit without the lights on or want to die. It's because that's how an episode of depression leaves me feeling inside. My zest for life has gone to visit Great Auntie Anne.
Drowning in tears without crying. Sitting motionless, Drowning silently in a room full of tears. Just sitting, unable to cry.
I struggle when people tell me 'don't worry, there is always light at the end of the tunnel,' if I am in a depressive episode. I prefer to tell people my experience of depression is feeling trapped in a dark, misty forest, with trees in every direction and no visible way out.
Apart from being a cruel, pain in the butt, depression is a real and horrible illness that affects up to 1 in 4 of the population at some time in their lives. Depression is the ugly sister of illness; the one hidden away and not discussed. The one that seems to make people feel ashamed...