You know what apparently helps people with depression and anxiety?
Having a cat. Or dog, or hamster, or whatever. Something you can cuddle preferably, that is reliant on you, loves you unconditionally, and you think is totes adorbs.
Therapy animals are real, people. This is the reason I adopted my cat, Brisco (Yes, he is named for Brisco County, Jr.) This is a tough one though, because there is definitely a balance that needs to be struck. Ultimately, Brisco does help more than he hinders, but there have definitely been times when I wished I didn’t have him. As with any creature, he can be annoying, persistent, in the way, etc.
He meows at doors at night, knocks things over, gets in the way, tries to trip you, randomly jumps on your face, tries to eat your toes, attacks anything that moves, scratches you up, and will not let you read in peace! OMG RIGHT NOW he thinks a great place to sit is directly in front of this computer screen! So in the darkest time, sometimes a pet can be a definite added stressor and source of frustration/annoyance/helplessness. That said, I am so grateful to have him in my life. As I gain back more and more positivity, little by little, I see and feel the benefits. He’s a non-judgmental listener. He’s a distraction from my problems. He is obsessed with me and always wants to be with me. That’s pretty flattering and good for self-esteem.