A serious post about depression

Depression is the word on everyone’s lips. A well known celebrity lost his life to it. Get help, everyone says. Scream out, call out, see a doctor, call a friend. “This pointless death has shone light on a serious illness”, people proclaim. Now, we can magically understand everyone who goes through it and be there to support them!

I have never felt more in the shadows than I do right now. The two words, “get help,” echo in my mind. People make things seem so easy. Depression can not be rationalized with. It’s not just feelings, it’s a way of thinking, a way of living. It makes you feel invisible, small, like nothing.

I spend most of my life, trying not inconvenience anyone. I try to stay out of the way, talk to people very little, and even cook very little so I can stay out of the way. I feel like my friendship takes times out of other peoples lives, and feel very often that it is unwanted. I ask permission to be in some peoples lives, but often give up. I sink into games to pass time, and try to sleep the rest of the day. Insomnia is a very real part of my world, and if I can’t sleep I resent everyone who does.

“Why is my life so much more solitary and quiet than other people’s?”, I wonder. Do I have less energy? Am I boring? Other people have friends that they take walks with, and drink coffee, and talk about trivial things. Then they laugh. I miss laughing.

I don’t even feel functional most of the day. I wake up to kids bouncing on me, drink my coffee, and try to wake up so I can be there for my kids. I am able to take care of their needs, but not mine. Coffee is usually all that passes my lips till dinner. I even feel guilty even leaving them to go to the bathroom. I take my computer in to escape and shut the door. “You’re a bad, selfish person. You should be with your kids”, my brain shouts. My daughter breaks in on me. I ask for privacy, and she bluntly refuses and insist she have a turn right that moment. Was it too much to ask for a moment alone? I guess so, guilt ensues.

When I do get out, I find it very hard to hold up conversations. My default chatter turns to children. I sense very quickly that people grow bored of me. I then shut down and feel exhausted. If I shrink down into my chair and make myself as small as possible, maybe people won’t notice I’m there and won’t feel annoyed with my presence. Any social gathering day is marked on the calendar, and followed by several days of rest to recover mentally and physically.

I do go to the doctor. My mom insisted I go after I had my first child. The doctor is nice, he really listens. He asks me if I can get counseling, but I always shake my head. I won’t take the time away from my kids. He tells me that I can always come in, that I am important. I nod my head and tear up, but I know in the end I will silently suffer instead of asking. He prescribes medications. The meds help to quiet the nagging voice in my head, but it doesn’t go away. It never does.

The voice tells me I am horrible. It tells me that I’m ugly. When do a household chore, it tells me that it is pointless. When I go to make food, it tells me that preparation is too much work. I manage to silence it just enough to take care of my children, but when I do something for myself it screams. “No one will like you if you do something for yourself.” “Be selfless.” “Don’t eat that apple, give it to your daughter!” I almost feel like the voice is giving me advice on how to be a better person, but it is not.

Get help? It’s a lot harder than it sounds. I live depression. It eats me. It eats others. It swallows some people, and there is nothing left. Every day I fight hard to keep bits of myself. This is not a one person job. It takes people being there. And no, me begging people to be in my life isn’t helpful. People just need to be there. There is no point in fighting when you feel alone. I fight in the name of my children.

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Frenching Myself

For years upon years, I have promised myself that I would learn to french braid. Now that I had a daughter, I felt the obligation to learn. When Daria’s hair starts growing out of power mullet phase I will practice on her. Until then I have to french myself. Hehehehe I said french myself. šŸ˜› Okay so seriously, youtube is AMAZING. There is a tutorial for just about everything. I will never have to purposely avoid not learning something ever again, because I can literally sit on my ass, look at images on a screen, and learn a new skill. So I have been practicing the braiding in all sorts, but I think my favorite is the headband braid. My hair is simply too short to do some styles, and the headband keeps my hair out of my face but gives slightly more class and poise than me doing my normal messy mom ponytail.

So here I am looking so sassy with no where to go. Solution Starbucks run! Coffee solves ALL your problems. If I am ever missing, look for me in at the bottom of a coffee pot. I will be running back and forth doing the over-caffeinated dance. But who can blame me? I have a 15 month old who has discovered how to touch the chandelier, and finds it funny to throw open my mother’s china cabinet to steal/throw things. I find myself struggling to keep up with her shenanigans.

However, I am trying to balance Daria and manage to make time with my husband and save some room to do my hobbies. My hobbies being painting my nails, playing my guitar, making faces at myself in the mirror, you know, girl stuff. This leaves piles of laundry left unfolded, and a overflowing mess that makes me itchy to look at. Instead of freaking out, I try to focus on the sanity I will maintain by not touching the vacuum. Not convincing? Okay, I don’t fucking want to do it. I’m tired! Totally wish people would let me dwell in my hole without nagging. about it. All I hear is blah blah gumdrops.

In other breaking news, my husband seems to feel the need to bring me and my BFF together. He is convinced we should move to Texas. My natural urges tell me no to go to Texas. There are scorpions there and huge freaking spiders. No thanks. However, I feel like leaving Washington could be a good way to break out of our bubble of sameness and monotony. Decisions.Ā  Probably will not happen, but the idea has sparked some feelings I did not know were there. We shall see where this takes us.


Dusting Off My Guitar

So a couple months ago my husband bought a guitar, very randomly, because he was wanting to learn how to play some country songs. It got me reminiscing on the golden days of yore where I played guitar. This was back in High School, which I realized is about ten years past. Damn I feel old. So naturally I got out my guitar to see if I remembered anything at all.

Inside of my guitar case I found a tape, a piece of paper with song I had written, and a bunch of condom packages. So the tape was something that had been recorded whilst I was taking guitar lessons, they were the songs I learned during the lessons. The condom packages were just things I used to collect during my first year of college cause I thought they were funny. But the song was something special to me. It was a song I wrote for a class and actually performed for in the class. It marks the first and only time I had the guts to perform in front of anyone. It kind of bummed me out.

As I anyone who knows me could confirm, I am very shy and introverted. So anything that involved performing was not in my comfort zone. While playing my guitar, I always made sure I practiced in an empty house. I wouldn’t even play for my family.

I got to thinking, and I really wish I would have taken choir in high school. I feel it would have helped my confidence and helped me with my voice. In my opinion my voice is okay, but it would have benefited from some voice lessons. Maybe if I would have had some formal training it would have kept my interest and music and I wouldn’t have allowed my guitar to be covered in an inch of dust.

I realize the subject matter on this blog hasn’t been very funny. So I will include a link to my youtube video that I made for my BFF. It is improvised so please forgive the lack of flow…


Do want to watch “two girls one cup” with me?

My husband asked me the above question today. There must be a point in your relationship where the question should have an obvious answer. Do you want to watch someone defecate into a cup whileĀ  another sloshes the feces around her gums only to spit and puke said excrement back into the cup? Umm pass. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with some people?

I think these girls need to find a hobby. Here are things people could do instead of eating feces…

Cook a healthy meal.

Watch some television.

Volunteer at a hospital.

Wax your grandfather’s back.

Learn to charm a snake.

Poop in the toilet and flush it down the plumbing.

I feel someone needs to give these girls a lesson on proper potty training and tell them the dangers if eating poo. Now here is a video about poop that IS actually amusing.


A Kermie Funeral

Recently, my husband’s grandfather passed away. This was a very sad event. He was an extremely nice man, and he always looked at Daria like she was the most amazing baby he had ever seen. His funeral was today, and not to make like of such a sad occurrence but it got me thinking about a few things.

Open Caskets

I totally understand the point of having a viewing. People want to be able to physically say goodbye to a loved one. However, I found this tradition rather creepy. Looking at a dead loved one to me is not so different from looking at a mannequin. A mannequin is motionless, lifeless, the expression never changes, in short it is a shell. Looking at a shell of someone you used to know is creepy. The thought that they are not in there, and never will be again is not a comforting thought. I, as a narcissist quickly thought of my dead shell being presented to the public. I thought of the people touching me, and crying over me. I also thought of people showing up that didn’t like me sticking gum in my hair.Ā  I think if I were to die, I would like to be cremated and not looked at.

People are Stupid

I must always sneak this little bit in. So as a mom of a VERY busy one year old, I ended up walking around the cemetery for the whole service. While I was walking I heard a loud crack. The wind had blown over a glass vase. For fucks sake people! Glass + wind + cement= broken glass. On top of that there were very specific rules posted EVERYWHERE around the cemetery stating DO NOT USE GLASS VASES. Thank God we had shoes on.

The Ceremony

Again, I get the importance, but don’t ever do this for me. A ceremony is not for the dead, it is for the living. People will come up and tell stories and cry. If I was in a casket hearing, she was my BFF FFS KMT OMG, like the normal conversations I have I don’t see much value in people talking about me. Lets just shorten the ceremony to one line, She liked to laugh AT people, and leave it at that.

Place of Rest

The place of rest was a cemetery. Duh, I have talked about cemeteries like a zillion times already. I was always confused at how they lowered a coffin in the ground without an astounding drop and crack. I guess the dead wouldn’t mind. However, it gave me the chance to think what will be done with my parts. Before I always liked the idea of throwing my ashes in water, so I would always be in motion. But now that I have looked into it I think I was a gravestone… with a picture… of me giving duckface. On top of that I want the gravestone to say how I died, “Poisoned to death after licking a poster of John Rzeznik.”I would like a signed ans autographed picture of said celebrity next to my gravestone.

Now that I have thought out my grave arrangements, family can refer to this blog in case of accidents.


People I would LOVE to clock in the face

As I age, I discover more and more that I can’t stand people. Some people, to me, are the equivalent to sand paper on a chalk boards while a smelly cat is taking a dump on your favorite sheets during a dental procedure where your teeth are being yanked from your jaw individually with no Novocaine. Those people are the ones I wish I could tie down, wind my wrist, and introduce to my protruding knuckles. Who are these people? Allow me to tell you…

Number 1

Taylor Lautner, “act” or? When it comes to the Twighlight series, I feel I gave it a fair chance. I watched it, it sucked. I watched the second one, I puckered till I swallowed my face. I think the heart of the issue with the second movie is the plot consisted on Jacob has a muscley-body. Okay, it is nice, I won’t deny that. HOWEVER, this guy can NOT act. Every line he spits out in that whiney obnoxious voice makes me grit my teeth more. I… must.. punch.. him… Please, stop acting and go away. Thank you.

Number 2

Lady Gaga, professional whackjob. This woman is extremely popular and well liked. Any fan will tell you how great she is and what a role model she is. Her fans will not take any bashing. For fucks sake, the woman WEARS cow muscles. People thought it was gross when Hannibal Lecter took the flesh off his victim and wear it as a disguise, how the hell does Lady Gaga get called creative? If that weren’t enough, she sings babel and people call it art. When was the last time you used “ra ra ga ga ga” in an intelligent conversation? On top of everything else, I seem to see her name/face wherever I go, reminding me how much she needs a face punch. Who has the rope? She is going down.

Number 3

Flo, Progressive Spokesman. Whether or not it is her high pitched voice or the fact that she is far too into insurance doesn’t matter, I can’t handle this woman. Her commercials come on, and I start banging my head against our coffee table. At firstĀ  wanted to be kind and believe it was just a role she played, but now I have decided it is her. Please someone tell her a sad story and make her plastic smile away. Her false enthusiasm is unbearable. At least I can get excited about one thing, the thought of punching her. Wonder if that will increase my car insurance rates?

Number 4

Brian Griffin, cartoon dog from Family guy. I understand this is a cartoon, and I can’t literally punch this dog, but I still want to. This clip from Quagmire explains all the reasons I hate him… Thank you!

Number 5

I want to leave this space open for any uprising pop star that the tweens drool over. I was considering putting Justin Bieber here, but to be perfectly honest I feel that he will be gone soon. Watching the trends of society boys tend to rise and fall with their hormones. The Jonas brothers, as short lived as they were, I hope, were uber annoying as well. I just feel that their annoyance is more a property of the reaction that they cause then the things they are doing. So for now, they will get a free pass. Congrats.

So this was my list and I would love to hear yours as well. Thanks.


The Laminated List

As my current obsession of the Goo Goo Dolls continues, my mind is going through my unwritten “laminated list”. For those that don’t watch Friends, a laminated list is a list of celebrities a person in a relationship is allowed to fuck if given the opportunity. To be perfectly honest, I am not delusional enough to actually believe a celebrity would too interested in sleeping with me, I am not the prettiest girl on the block and given options I believe a celebrity would go for a model. However, I make my list anyway saying what the hell, won’t hurt.

Number One

John Rzeznik, of the Goo Goo Dolls. Okay this is pretty much a given, but this is what prompted the list. If I were to run into John Rzeznik, there is no way he would leave my site without losing a mouthfulĀ  of flesh, he just doesn’t stand a chance. The man drives me insane, and makes me do and say things I would not ordinarily be prone to. He has created a response I kindly refer to as Whoremones, and when I watch his videos or listen to his music I am willing to jump just about anyone that moves. Needless to say, my husband greatly appreciates the Goo Goo Dolls because this response has worked to his advantage. Already confirmed with my husband, and I have the okay to maul the living daylights out of John, so why don’t we meet up? Don’t wear clothes you care about cause they will get ripped off.

Number Two

Colin Farrel, an actor. So I guess this guy is a very common crush, but to be perfectly honest I just got into him. Why the change? He played a vampire in Fright Night and Vampires are freaking Sexy. There was something so beautiful about the way he silently lurked around his victims and lured them in with his deep eyes and trusting smile. That was it for me, he can bite me anytime.

Number Three

David Boreanaz, actor. Remember how vampires are sexy? This is my favorite vampire. The tortured Angel trying to redeem himself for the lives he had taken by helping the hopeless. I thinkĀ  watched his television show about a thousand time and can still manage to lose drool over this man. There is something so adorable about his smile, like he finds amusement in every situation. I can’t resist this man.

Number Four

Angelina Jolie, Actress. So my list is not entirely made up of men.I have a total girl crush on Angelina that could only be described as bi-curious response. There is just something about her lips that is so inviting, like she would be gentle and kiss you slowly and passionately. I would definitely tap that.

Number Five

Curtis Stone, Chef. So how many guys will cook you dinner if you bring them home? Not many, but this is one of them. Star of “Take Home Chef”, he found random women in the store, bought their groceries, then cooked for them. Not a bad situation. On top of that, he is extremely gorgeous, has an amazing body, and an accent. I wonder if he would make me breakfast in bed? Either way Curtis Stone, I will be waiting for you at Fred Meyer.

Now that I have taken the time to write down this list, I think I will come up with Another. The next list will be celebrities I would love to hold down and punch in the face. That one will be fun.