I don’t know if I’ll ever stop feeling this way.
So I’m making plans to compensate, in case this case of the blues goes on for decades.
- Stop feeling sorry for myself. I’m depressed, you’re depressed, and that guy in Starbucks is clearly in denial about his relationship to his mother. Whoopee, what else is new?
- Make plans to compensate for life sucking. I, for example, bought completely unnecessary boxed pasta salads last weekend, and I’m going to have them for lunch this week. Because I want them.
- Ignore those people, the ones who expect you to be cheerful. They are probably either assholes without boundaries, or they are also depressed. Either way, not my job. Not your job, either.
- Stick to my routine like permanent glue. Who knows, maybe in two weeks I’ll have rock-hard abs and feel like condensed sunshine? Probably not, but whatever. As long as I’m still checking off the Habitica tasks, I’ll finish a novel this month, and that’s better than not finishing a novel this month.
- Lower your expectations. Like, for example, I’m probably too old to get everything that I want. So what is there to lose, right? I might as well make a fool out of myself trying. And giving up is for lame people. I might be depressed, but I hope I’m not lame.
- Stay home more. I can totally do all those chores next week, and my body hurts. So I’m lazy. What gives?
- Hold a Complaining Fest. Make popcorn. Throw darts. Whine volubly about the weather. Etc.
- Give up on fixing yourself, because that’s relaxing, and maybe I’m trying too hard, anyway. Maybe giving up is my way of finding acceptance, and giving up on denial.
- Take typing lessons online, because why not? And it’s fun when I score over 100 WPM.
Happy writing on a Sunday in August, and may the depression fairies cease squatting on your brain.