When there is no need to breathe

So I tried to recreate this, because I knew the responses would be different, and consequently realized that it’s either extremely old or faked, as Cleverbot auto-capitalizes and auto-punctuates your sentences for you if you do not. Oh well.

So I decided to try it

Depression is an asshole, and it can become your master, but you can slip out from under it occasionally. And many depressed people in the midst of an episode don’t actually spend it fainting dramatically on the couch and talking about how miserable they are. Some are high-functioning (bolstered by the need to put a face on it), others are into morbid jokes, others try to reach out for help (isn’t that what we’re ‘supposed’ to do?) from friends and try to make their depression less scary. Depression isn’t an all or nothing deal — seeing a person who identifies with depression cracking a joke or having fun or dancing with a friend isn’t evidence that the person is faking it, whether the person is experiencing a moment of genuine happiness, or fronting. Conversely, jollying up people with depression to demand that they start being more fun is equally revolting, a refusal to acknowledge that people experiencing a rough day, or a rough week, or a rough few hours aren’t going to be your trained monkeys.