Enjoying your depression a bit too much?

Apparently some depressed person has written a stage play, with songs, about their depression now.

Is there a new variant on depression around these days? A sort of Depression 2.0? One where the sufferers can’t stop whittering on about their precious bloody disease like some sort of latter day martyr movement?

What happened to the old style of depression? The quiet one that didn’t make a fuss and didn’t presume that the world owed it a living. The one that just sat quietly in the corner. I miss that one – the genuine one. This new one is little more than tedious, boring, masturbatory attention-seeking and hardly seems depressed at all. 

There’s a difference between talking about something and (literally in this case) making a song and dance about it. Depression seems to have become the new black.

People who have suddenly realised how little control they have over their own lives (or as it used to be called, “growing up”) are labelling themselves as depressed these days. Any dopy hipster suffering from a morning beard dysfunction is calling himself depressed. Over-entitled people all over the country that get their work ethic from watching the X Factor or Eastenders are labeling themselves as depressed because they have to work for a living.

Basically, anyone with a missing backbone or brain deficiency is calling themselves depressed.

It has become the universal excuse for laziness, incompetence and ineptitude, and it’s time a stop was put to it.