Instead, I've found that meeting people in venues I’d normally occupy anyway helped alleviate certain stresses.
I go to a lot of concerts, and striking up conversations there felt easier—there’s a mutual interest and I don’t have to force myself to meet Travis No-Last-Name at a fancy restaurant.
There are more adult examples later in life, but they’re not nearly as funny or tragic.
Managing mood on a day-to-day basis is an uphill, hellish hike of complete uncertainty, but it’s something I’ve grown to understand.
You’re doing what’s best for yourself and for the other person.
It’s not a conversation of fixing what’s wrong—nothing is wrong with you.
Too much too fast is a mood-killer, and it can sometimes read as being a little nuts?
I’m not going to tell you about the time I left the country with complete strangers, either, and at least that makes me seem insane interesting.
While transparency is crucial, telling someone you have depression too early (like, on the first date) is probably not the best move.
If I’m jelling with a dude in the crowd, we can get a drink after and see what happens.
It’s not a perfect system, but it’s certainly worked for me: gigs have led to nachos have led to beers have led to real romance.
A challenging part of dating while depressed is a challenging part of dating in general: Putting yourself out there in ways that won’t make you want to self-immolate.
For a long time, I joined Tinder and Bumble and all the sites you’re supposed to join as a hip young person, only to find that I could never bring myself to deliver on a date because I could never bring myself to actually leave my house.