Dooce is one of my favorite bloggers.
Today I came across this photo, which was captioned "Molly":
This is the what she had underneath it:
This is the bunny doll I bought from Loobylu. The other doll came with a name, but this one I got to name, so I call her Molly because she looks like a Molly. Yesterday she brought me much happiness when I needed it. Thank you, Claire.
I think that bunny kind of looks like me if I was a stuffed bunny.
Full circle, pretty much.
It doesn't take a genius to figure out that I'm a girl full of feelings. Hell, it's the description of this entire blog. Feelings, feelings, feelings.
Recently, a friend kindly broke the news to me that I "might be depressed". No. I am definitely depressed. Depression runs in my family (although the most Irish Catholic of our clan would totally deny it) and I've suffered from it as long as I can remember. Most of the times it's completely manageable, almost like a little game I play with myself to see how even keeled I can stay before everything explodes in my face again. It might sound like I'm playing with my mental health or something, but in actuality, it's pretty much how I am able to survive.
I've done the medication thing (last year when my anxiety had manifested into a beast with multiple heads, arms and legs), I was in therapy when I was a kid for about three years. I don't particularly think that either of those things have been as helpful to me as much as just working through things on my own, allowing the natural changes that happen in a calendar year to build up my happiness and excitement for the future.
Most of my life has been dictated by this depression. My constant need to self-actualize, the writing, the comedy, the partying, the impulsive decision making-- all of these things build walls around my depression, almost giving it a reason to live there, justifying it. If I wasn't depressed, would people still find me funny? Would I still see things the same way? Would I manage to be successful if I didn't have the urge to constantly improve myself? Would I want to improve myself if I didn't hate myself so much? Do I even really hate myself?
All of this came to mind today when I was reading Blurbomat. I truly love that Armstrong family. I've been reading Dooce for years, and last year when I was going through the most terrible bout of depression I've ever suffered, rereading some of her posts about her similar struggles were incredibly comforting, as lame as that may sound. Her husband keeps Blurbomat and today I found a piece he wrote about living with Heather's depression.
I was moved by this piece because it was able to reassure me, at least a little, that I don't have to die alone because of this stuff. There's probably someone who will be able to handle all that I entail and that I won't be afraid to show it all to. Also, it made me a little sad to think that there's no way that anyone who ever spends their life with me will ever have a normal life. I am the kind of person that you occasionally have to struggle to tolerate, let alone live with... but I also realized that that's probably not the worst thing in the world to some people. (And if this person I should hopefully find happens to have the man-urge to climb on the roof and scoop the snow out of the satellite dish for me, that'd be even more amazing.)
I'm sure there are plenty of professionals who would disagree with my tactics, but living with depression is something that I've grown to realize is completely manageable most of the time. I remind myself daily that my happiness is a choice (albeit not chemically, but in my attitude and the way I approach things) and there are always plenty of worse moments in my life to reflect on to gain perspective. After awhile, you realize all broken hearts, failures and disappointments have different faces, but all the same traits. Things in my life hurt less now than they ever have, and wether it's because I'm numb from all that drinking I do or I'm just approaching things with twenty-four years of life experience behind me, I'm not sure... but they hurt less... and when you're trying to wake up in the morning, isn't that what really matters?
It's Thanksgiving! Here's the necessary list of things/people/places I want to show thanks to today:
1) The City of Los Angeles- This city is the fucking worst, but it's also my home and I've learned more about myself and the world in the last year than I probably would anywhere else. Also, it's pretty much always sunny. Can't hate on that.
2) Bootie LA - Bootie's brought me endless joy this year-- between the music, the parties, the free playlists... It's all a music junkie like me needs to feel slightly less alone.
3) Gawker Media - I perhaps value my daily dose of workahol more than anyone should, but I have to say that I couldn't be more proud to be working for this company, specifically Defamer. I don't think I ever dreamed that I'd be working for people that I truly admire so much, but now that I have, I don't see how it could be any other way. I am proud to be your Sensitive Video Flower. Thankful specifically for Blakeley too, who's perverted antics earned him a mention in today's Page Six.
4) The staff of ThisJustIn - I'm not sure if anyone there truly has any idea how much they touched me over the six months or so I was there, but every single person there left their impression on me, and I think about all of them every single day. Except Jeff Rosenthal. Him I think about once a week (JUST KIDDING, SPORT!).
5) UCB Theater - For introducing me to countless hilarious people that inspire me every single day.
6) English Muffins - Without you, I would still be a skinny bitch. Thanks for putting me in my place.
7) Hello...Shovelhead! - I don't think any single experience has changed my life more than Shovelhead. I love love love my Shovelhead famalam for ever. Thanks for always reminding me who I've been, who I am and who I am going to be. I have loved growing up with you more than anything. Remember: There are no babies if you use the right hole.
8) Men - I love you all.
9) Jezebel, Dooce, Going, PostSecret and all the other sites that keep my RSS feed poppin' - Thanks for keeping me in the know. Knowledge is power.
10) My loving, understanding, AMAZING family - I don't think I learned how to appreciate any of them until I moved three thousand miles away, but I realize now that I've have been dealt a pretty good hand with these people. I don't know anyone who's family is more supportive or excited for someone to succeed than my family.
11) Lil Mama - Way to bring a powerful message to the forefront, little lady. No one has ever put my feelings for make-up into words before you. Thanks for showing us how to use nice things with nice flavors. (The song's totally about blow jobs, huh?)
13) My Husband - Without Edward Marchelene Hansen my life would cease to exist as it does. Thinking about how much fun we've had together this year and how truly lucky I am to have you in my life is completely overwhelming. I've survived in this city because of you, LaThomas. (I love you enough to post what is a rather Downs-y picture of me and purty sexual one of you)
14) All you people who read this crap that I write - Thanks for the Vox accounts, the emails, the comments. Thanks for not turning on me when I'm not the best at returning these gestures. You guys let me make up words, use cliches until the breakabreakadawn, laugh in the face of grammar and spelling every single day. Thanks for entertaining the idea that I'm somewhat interesting and that I might have something profound to say one of these days. I have to admit, I'm shocked you keep coming back for more. It makes me wonder from time to time if you all hate yourselves as much as I hate myself, and then it starts to make a little bit of sense... but for realsies, you're awesome.
15) Paul J. Wagandstuff - The single greatest source of joy in my universe. There are no words, just bacon flavored things and snuggles.