Anyone who has played the board game Monopoly in their life truly knows pain, and struggle, and more pain. It is a war of attrition, morals disappear, even your own family and friends turn against you. Not to mention time just grinds to a halt. The whole experience becomes a haze, you aren’t sure who is winning, how to win, why you’re playing or what time it is. Inevitably your uncle claims victory by default, your young nephews have long gone, and your grandma still wants all four train stations ‘because it’s nice to have the set’.
I’ve never actually finished a game of monopoly, I’ve never met a man, woman or child who has. Equally I have never met anyone who has truly beaten depression. There are certainly good periods, one might even use the term ‘happy’. Truly cured though? I have my doubts.
See, with the game of Monopoly, you do get those moments. They flash over you, going as quick as they come. Those moments you think ‘yes, it is here, it is finally here. The game is going to end’. Only later and with hindsight do you realise that was in fact the first quarter, of the first half.
For around a week now I have been doused in depression, covered in the stuff. Like a pollinated bee. I just can’t get rid, but of course it won’t end. Depression doesn’t end, the good moments are just that, good moments. They are periods of time when I feel better, but they are not a solid platform to attain ‘forever happiness’.
So I am now in a position where I never expect Monopoly to end. I no longer pay attention to those periods of momentary excitement, when I finally think the finish is in sight. Neither do I pay heed to the monotonous dredge that is depression. The good times will come and go in unequal measure; something I have had to come to terms with. Having said that I will soon have enough money to buy a red hotel on Pall Mall, meaning I can finally force my uncle into extreme poverty once and for all. Capitalism for life.
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