Yesterday, I turned off my cell phone. Shut off. Completely. With the exception of asking a friend if she survived tax-free weekend shopping and small conversation in the morning with Jeanna, I went without it. Last week has been a surge of emotions. One moment I felt capable of taking on the world, while the next its weight crushed me. Bipolar is fun, after all. That’s just a self-diagnosis, mind you. I don’t hold the credentials to make the assumption. However, depression and I are no strangers. In 2004, I started seeing a counselor at UTPA. Coupled with my anxiety, the depression explained a lot of things about me. For instance, I learned that it’s one thing saying I’m depressed and another hearing it…