The fog

When depression settles on my thoughts, I'm suppose to recognize it as a fog obscuring reality. I'm suppose to understand I am not seeing clearly and so must find an alternative point of view. Instead of using my eyes to perceive what is in front of me, I must use my hands, my ears and nose in order to fill in what the fog is preventing me from seeing.

The concept is sound, the idea makes sense but when the fog is at its thickest, it is a very hard thing to do. The fact I even try is progress.