The paper says that men are less likely to discuss depression.

Can we talk about life in a way that makes it sound as happy as it is sad? Can we understand how finances work well enough to know that there will be bad times and be good times? Can I be spoken to like I'm a competent adult when it comes to how I'm managing my own life?

I want a place where there's promise. Where I don't feel, more or less, forced into seeking another job.

I'm tired of my parents talking to me about how life is depressing, how much it sucks, how working sucks, how your future is naturally going to disappoint you.

This is what they've been talking to me about ... my parents.

They essentially have said, "Life is awful and terminal and depressing ... and you can't win. Get used to it."

This, on top of financial troubles that have gone on longer than they thought they would, has been discouraging. Reading articles about depression in the newspaper, in addition to this, has been bad. Not filling my prescription for the medicine I need to heal my leg because I can't even really afford the small amount that it would likely cost to fill it ... has been impossible.

Tough month.

You believe the best about yourself.

You start the month in London, wondering what it would be like to live there and thinking that you can find your way to a better way of living.

You end up broke, borrowing money from your mother, with a leg injury and the feeling that your life is going nowhere and that you're going to have to find a new job as quickly as possible.

You hate everything about your existence except your apartment and your friends. You invite your parents out to lunch because they'll take you to better restaurants and pay for it. The staff at the Blimpie near your office asks you why you haven't been by all week.

You get uncontrollably ill in your apartment, and you have to throw out your clothes. And you're embarassed about that.

And you start to believe the worst about yourself.