Does anyone else experience a strange kind of comfort in being depressed?

Hopefully this comes out right.

I’ve been noticing that sometimes when depression hits, it feels like an old friend coming in to comfort me. 

Of course, I don’t enjoy the depression. I hate it, I wish it would go away, it’s painful. I hate feeling drained, I hate the way I think about myself and my pessimistic outlook. I hate crying and feeling so lost.

I think sometimes the depression feels like a welcome change after a round of anxiety that wipes me out. Or some stressful situation that I can’t change. I let go of hope and give up, and it’s like a sigh of relief. Sometimes it seems like a better alternative than being vulnerable and ending up hurt. I think having been depressed for most of my life, it’s familiar, and feeling happy makes me feel uneasy.

What bothers me most is that it seems logical, like it answers all my questions about things I don’t understand. Like if I can’t understand why a traumatic thing happened, my depression says it makes sense that it’s because I’m worthless. It’s like a friend giving twisted words of support, and I feel comfort in having an answer. Confusion makes me very uncomfortable.

I’m hoping that having had this realization might be a key to fighting off this thinking. It’s very exhausting battling this pull.

Is this just me, or can anyone relate?