Sometimes, you cry, Gentle Reader, when you are depressed. You feel it, building, deep inside you. And it bursts free, unencumbered.
But sometimes you don’t cry, and those days are worse. The days when you want to cry and can’t find the energy or the willpower to do so. Or perhaps, even worse, you don’t want the freedom crying brings you, the release from depression it can signal. Sometimes you revel in it instead, because some tiny little part of you wants to be depressed in this moment.
The ugly truth about depression. You don’t like it, but it is familiar. And sometimes, what is familiar is comforting.
The Postmodern Bluestocking 
I completely relate. I’ve been crying nearly everyday this week.
*hugs*