The Lighter Side of Depression

wow.

It feels great to be back doing the things I used to. The last week has been…well, it’s been a psychotic journey to hell and back many, many times on a tiny little girl bicycle with no seat…

Nonetheless I tried my best to keep myself busy (you may have noticed the new site design) because that’s the only way i usually float to the surface. Anyway, now that I’m back to normal i can resume my discussions of nudity, farts and public humiliation for your sick pleasure =)

But while it’s still fresh in my battered mind, let me enlighten you about some of the interesting phases of depression that you happy people may never experience…

Extreme dissociation sets in.

Suddenly you relate to nothing; your flat, your clothes and even your face seems unrecognizable. There were times I would stare at my hand with extreme wonder almost as if I had just discovered I had chicken drumsticks for fingers. The worst part comes when you’re in public and have to act civil, the most menial automatic things suddenly become in focus; like walking. Strolling down the street one day, mid-stride the knowledge of walking suddenly went and I had to consciously think about each step, which ended up with me looking like John Cleese from Monty Python doing the silly walk; taking tiny baby steps then huge lurches like a drunken swan. Needless to say the sidewalk ahead of me cleared up pretty quickly.

You develop an intense personal relationship with a specific underwear.

It’s usually the very same pair you were wearing when the depression hit. At first it’s constrictive but then after a few days it literally becomes a part of you; it’s hard to tell where you end and it begins. Wedgies become a reality not an annoyance. Every time you think about changing\showering and taking it off you get the pangs of guilt as if you were going to betray an old friend or abandon a child. When you give it a name and start singing it to sleep then you have reason to worry.

Your flat\room looks like Bosnia on a bad day.

I’m talking chaos, carnage and inhumanity. Half-empty ice cream boxes everywhere, socks hanging off kitchen appliances, 3-day-old corn flakes in milk sitting untouched on the tv, records and books scattered across every single inch of the floor, feces on the wall, etc…

You lose interest in your pigeon.

He didn’t come for a few days. I didn’t care. So what. I don’t need him. I can get along fine alone. Hmph.

The Inevitable Physical Manifestation

For some reason it is an important point for the depressed person to physically express their mental issues by drastically changing something in their appearance. Some shave their heads or better yet their eyebrows while others, like me, grow a grotesque ‘Tom Selleck’ moustache that looks like a fat bug had crawled up on your top lip and died.

Hello, stinky.

Showering is definitely a depression no-no. I mean, suddenly life is empty and has no meaning, so obviously you don’t give a rats ass about upsetting some snooty people’s nostrils. Not even to go out to see those few who care and want to cheer you up, I guess the logic behind it is that you want others to suffer too. You yourself are alright though; because within the first few days you stop noticing your smell altogether but perhaps notice a strange green aura forming around you. For more proof see Phase 2.

I’d like to mention that that the few of you out there (you know who you are) who took the time to send emails and be supportive are very much appreciated and you’ve just gained a friend for life. A loony friend, but a friend nonetheless…

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