I do not need a psychiatrist to tell me I am in the shitter:

have melancholia
insomnia
am irritable
laugh on the outside
cry on the inside
feel worthless
helpless
believe others are watching me
have headaches
hemorrhoids
backaches from sublimating stress
and feel inadequate.

I know I am in the shitter when I:

buy lottery tickets
check my horoscope
go to a fortune teller
am in bed for more than three days

or

in good spirits for more than three days
smile at the neighbors
say have a nice day to strangers

or am nice to Jehovah Witnesses at my door with pamphlets.

but

most of all I know I am in the shitter
when I think of calling you

or

reminisce about the good times we had.