First, hugs to ya'll.
And now, a rant. Sort of.
Depression. No, I just can't make myself feel better. Yes, there are things I can do to make it better long term, but no I can not just flick it like a light switch. It does not. Work that way. Some people just can not understand that if you are someone with long term depression, in my case most of my life, it is not an easy thing to break out of. You hate it, but you depend on it. You want out, but you're so scared of the outside. Combined with some serious trust issues and Aspergers and you get the lovely added effects of not being quite sure who to trust since you just can't tell which smiles are fake or not.
Granted, over the last few years this has become a lot better and it has gotten easier. But it took me getting so low that I made the choice to kill myself to get my ass to the doctor and get some antidepressants. Which have made a hell of a difference.
Slightly more silly rant now.
To the old weird dude with the shitty Ford Mondeo wagon: No, we still only have one dog, the other one has not magically resurrected (thank you for bringing the pain up again btw). No, I really can not be as surprised as you are that they are doing work on the building when they only sent out a mass message, TWICE, calling people to a meeting about it. And no, you can not expect me to like your junk car as much as you do. It is not that cool. Or rustfree. But mostly, seize this stopping your car in the street where people drive and try to talk to when I get home from work and just want to get in the shower.
And no, he is not senile, he's just clueless.