You know, when my depression is acting up I'd make a fucking terrible demon fighter. There I'd be, sitting in my room in my pajamas in the middle of the day watching Criminal Minds, and I'd glance out the window and notice that some invisible demon was about to snack on an old lady.

And I'd think, well, I guess maybe I should do something about that seeing as I have these special demon-fighting powers and all. But then I'd go, ugh, no, what is even the point, I would just fuck everything up and make it all worse. Hey, self, remember the time when you tried to fight a demon and instead you fucked everything up and made it all worse? Oh wait, that was every time. God, what a worthless waste of space I am, I can't even fight demons right. Who thought it was a good idea to give me this power? Did they not realize that I am fucking incompetent at everything and should never have made it to adulthood?

Several paragraphs of negativity later, I would look out the window and notice that the demon had already devoured the old lady and gone its merry way, leaving trampled apartment buildings and screaming college students in its wake. And then I'd have something new to beat myself up about.