There have been days that I have fallen so deeply into the darkness of my depression that I couldn’t make myself walk to the kitchen for something to eat. I have stayed in bed for days at a time, laying there, alternating between sleeping and staring at the ceiling in silence. I have had days that I didn’t shower (there have been more than I care to admit). I am by nature, a person that ‘needs’ to be clean. I obsess over cleanliness and freshness, but when depression pulls me into the darkness, I can’t even find the energy to obsess over the cleanliness, because nothing really seems to matter.