Depressed People Do It Better

And by “it,” I of course mean nothing. 

Need that car cleaned? I’m not your woman!

Need those dishes washed? Don’t look at me.

Those taxes need to be filed? What the hell are extensions for, except depressed people?

Need to harass meat-eaters and hand out PETA pamphlets? My can of red paint is empty.

The baby needs to be nursed? Formula for all! (Sorry, La Leche League. Not everyone can be motivated to lactate, okay?)

Someone on the Internet needs to cause a kerfuffle because every single tragedy can be transformed into a self-absorbed rant? Darn! I’m all out of fucks to give!

The container of sour cream needs to be eaten? Well, why didn’t you say so? I just so happen to have a spoon under my pillow right here. Wait a second and I’ll just lick off the ice cream residue from last night. (Wink, wink, nudge, nudge. I was doing something dirty in bed with ice cream. Oh yeah. Eating a whole container in my dirty t-shirt and wiping my tears and snot on the bed sheets. Oooh baby.)

I told you we do it better.

But seriously.

This is my serious face. It is also my proof that I know I was separated at birth from someone famous.

It’s kind of like discovering I’m Oprah’s long-lost half sister.

But seriously. Thank you for your emails and comments and your messages and well, everything. I’m going to respond to every single one of you (one day, when I’m not eating sour cream in bed), not because I have to, but because I want to, to let you know how much it means to me that you reached out.

Thank you. It really, really helps. It helps to feel less alone, and to know that I’m allowed to be sad for all the shitty things that happened to me, and that the sadness will not consume me completely anymore and I don’t have to feel stuck or trapped or like a victim. I can soar now. I can let it go and let it fly off like a bird or on eagle’s wings or 99 luftballoons.

And I hope that if you’re feeling as terrible as I’ve been feeling, you can reach out to someone, maybe even me, and tell about it. I’ll even share my container of sour cream with you.