I wonder if Cinderella ever got depressed. God knows she had reason: mean stepsisters and mother, ineffectual father, rags to wear, hard work to do, inadequate nutrition, emotional and physical abuse. I would not have lasted long as the real Cinderella. I wonder why I am depressed. I have a lot to be happy about. I am out of car and insurance debt. I have a job, a dog, a bike, and an apt.

It is just that I expected so much more of myself. I have an education, experience, interest. Why am I stuck where I am? Have I lost too many brain cells, too many looks? It throws up to be depressed. The worst is that then I despise myself for being so weak as to be depressed. What is wrong with me? Why can't I be upbeat like Bill Clinton and Barack Obama?