Perspective.

I've been sleeping a lot lately. LIKE a lot. All day Sunday. Monday night. Tuesday night. I slept through the alarm I set to get going for rehearsal.  Woke up right when rehearsal was about to start. 45 minutes away. It was too overwhelming to figure out.  I had a long discussion with my mom about how depressed I feel. FOR NO REASON.

Today, my friend Aniela starts chemo. I just chatted with a member of the club who is battling lung cancer. A friend of mine just had to put her dog down. 132 children were killed in Pakistan.

I know I have it good.  I realize this.  My body does not.  My brain chemistry does not.

Depression is a lie.  But it's a damn convincing lie.

I have had a few "snap out of it" comments from people. A "go run on the treadmill to get your endorphin's up" from mom. My friend that I blew off last night told me he understands.

THIS HAPPENS. EVEN ON BRAIN DRUGS, IT HAPPENS.

Every year, the season starts and I want to hibernate.  Work gets crazy.  A lot of energy gets expended in events, negative members, balancing co-workers and membership drives. I leave the couch to walk Kevin.  Get a popsicle. Go back to the couch.  It's tough. I get that it's not just tough on me. I'm not crying all the time (just once on Monday night, but it was for a really good reason).

I'm not wanting to hurt myself.

I'm just tired.

This?

http://www.huffingtonpost.ca/anne-theriault-/living-with-depression_b_3726949.html

I have yet to read an article about depression that more accurately depicted the way I feel right now.

Wil Wheaton said that once he got on meds, the noise in his brain finally dulled to a ringing in the ears. That happened to me when I started the brain drugs. I went off the brain drugs for a few days, and now my brain just needs to catch back up. I need to deal with the health stuff going on in my life. (Surprise!  I'm anemic and have a temporarily broken uterus! Yay!) Realize that my friends love me. My family loves me.  I should love me.

To cope with this current bout, I'm going to be silly.  Post silly shit. Find videos that make me giggle and images that make me guffaw.  I'm gonna be a manic pixie girl. And get my femullet trimmed. That might be step one.

Da blues.

I've got a case of the holiday blues.

The only solution is...a poem.

I got dumped by an elf on Christmas
It was a very bad year
He had the curly shoes, the bells and the hat
And even two very pointy ears

It was one of those crawls

Where everybody drinks
Dressed like Santa, we all did shots
I thought I had been very good all year
But he had other thoughts.

We partied all night
I was naughty but nice
Dancing and acting a fool.
"It's not working out"
He said with a sneer
Shortly after I'd bought his 15th beer

My eyes teared up
Green mascara ran down my face
As I stood in my hooker Santa gear
"Merry Christmas to all"
He yelled as he drove out of sight.
"And I hope you had a very shitty night!"

Never trust a man who drinks cough syrup
He'll always end up breaking your heart
But that damn elf did me a favor that day
And left me to make a brand new start

I got dumped by an elf on Christmas
It was a very bad year
He had the curly shoes, the bells and the hat
And even two very pointy ears.

EFF CHRISTMAS!

THIS GUY IS NOT MY BUDDY! 

My sister inspired me.

I was mean to my sister.

Surprise!

She said something at dinner one night about trying to find a four leaf clover.  It was an item on her bucket list.

I scoffed.

"It's on your bucket list?  Bucket lists are for EPIC ADVENTURES, EXPLORING and DEATH DEFYING FEATS.  NOT FOR SOMETHING LIKE FINDING A FOUR LEAF CLOVER! DUH!"

I'm a jerk. And speak in all caps.

I realized that my interpretation of the bucket list is kind of douchey. (Sorry, Brooke.) The list doesn't have to be full of expensive travel or extreme sports.  It can be the little things in life that we've always wanted to do that are within our reach if we just focus on them.

I've added an item to my bucket list.

Do a single cartwheel.

I have never done a cartwheel. I don't trust gravity and my body to not break something in the process of wheeling. The other day I was teaching an improv class, and we were waiting for additional students to get there to begin.  While we waited, I suggested we do cartwheels EVEN THOUGH I DON'T KNOW HOW.  The two other ladies in the class tried.  I couldn't.  I was too scared. Scared of looking dumb or falling.

Not anymore. I'm gonna rock a cartwheel and I 'm going to look dumb doing it.  I'll scratch it off that bucket list and move on to the next item.

Seeing the Aurora Borealis in person.

That may take a while.