It's Just Temporary

Dear Sweet Babies,

How are you? I am not fine.

I am having a depressive episode.

It's not the worst ever, which is nice. I've had much much much worse.

And I know it is temporary. And that is HUGE.

Knowing that it is temporary is a huge breakthrough for me, because before when I would get extra down, I was SURE it was permanent, and that I would never ever ever feel OK again.

But now I know better. I know you can't live at rock bottom forever.

So, now that I know that, it is much easier to just take care of myself as best I can and just sorta wait it out.

However, it took me a loooooonnnnnnnggggg time to get to this place, of knowing it is temporary.

Depression is sneaky. It will tell you that you're never gonna get better ever and that you should just kill yourself. BUT DON'T LISTEN TO THAT JIVE! Because depression is also a liar. You CAN get better. You need help to do it, but you can get better.

At least that is what I have to keep telling myself.

And if you're depressed too, we both just have to remember: IT'S JUST TEMPORARY. Right? Right.

Sincerely,
with love,
Lormo

Quick and Dirty

Well hello sweet babies!

Man, it is really hard trying to get his blog back on track.

I'm finding it hard to write when I live in a very small apartment with someone else. He is very respectful of my time and all that, but still, it's hard.

I like to wander around for hours before I actually sit down and do it. And it's hard to ask for 5 hours to yourself, when he just got home from work.

And, I do my best work from home, so I don't like going to a coffee shop or whatever. That seems super distracting! Although, I've never tried it, so I suppose I should. Even though I am scared of bring my laptop anywhere. I guess I could do it longhand, like I used to do, on the subway. Except now I'd do it at a coffee shop. There is no subway in Minneapolis, unfortunately.

Plus lately, I've become immersed in home repairs. I moved into a house that WE have to maintain. And oh lord, I was not cut out for that. I like living in an apartment until it falls apart, and then moving.

Plus, on top of that, I feel totally uninspired, due to a myriad of factors which, of course, include depression.

But the truth is, I don't feel THAT depressed. I've felt way worse. Lately, I just feel unmotivated to anything. Which IS a symptom of depression, but still I've felt so much worse than this, I think I should be able to get a few things accomplished.

But I'm not. Aside from some quick and dirty plumbing.

I wish that was a euphemism, but it's not.

I guess maybe that's the answer. I need to quit waiting for inspiration, and just do some quick and dirty writing.

And that's what you just got.

Does Anybody Read Blogs Anymore?

I haven't blogged in over a year. Oops.

So um, hey!? How's it going everybody? Are blogs still cool?

If you said yes, you failed. Blogs were never cool.

That was a trick question.

A Night At Studio Lormo

My parents' spent the night with me in my tiny STUDIO APARTMENT last night.

I didn't know they were planning to spend the night!!! I DID NOT KNOW THAT.

My apartment is SMALL you guys. And um, my dad's disappointment with me, is like a mist in the air around him. And worry. And confusion. And concern.

So that's fun. And I got to spend every minute of the night in this disappointment mist.

AND. AND! I HAVE NO CABLE, NO CONVERTER BOX, NOTHING. NO TV YOU GUYS. JUST STATIC.

But I do have a DVD player. They actually watched Hustle N' Flow, which I never returned to Blockbuster, and by accident ended up owning. It's hard out there for a pimp.

But at least they watched something. I pretended to be deathly ill and took a nap.

Then, somehow I ever so slightly made my deep-seated desire to sleep in my own bed clear, and so my dad slept on the couch. He said he didn't mind at all, but I felt like a jerk. But he really said he didn't care and he did fall right to sleep.

And, I'm sorry but I love my bed you guys. I did not want to sleep on the couch.

BUT IT WAS ALL SO WEIRD.

But because I do actually have the flu (wasn't feeling too bad, but milked it so they would back off a little), so I think he felt bad and let me sleep in the bed BUT WITH MY MOM.

But any configuration you think of is WAY TOO INTIMATE.

I mean, my mom and I actually had a nice chat. Kinda like a slumber party while the grouch slept on the couch. Haha that rhymes! I rule.

Anyway.

Next time they try to sleep over, I am going say I have ebola and they simply canno because every visit with them is accompanied with the underlying tone of: WHAT THE FUCK IS LORI DOING WITH HER LIFE SHE IS DOOMED.

I am going to have to take a fist full of klonopin to recover.

So anyway we went to sleep and it was fine because sleep is fine, bt then we awoke at 7:15am. It was my fault, I had to use the bathroom. I woke everyone up. However, I was in a surprisingly good mood. Overjoyed with the near future of my own space back I think.

But then, my mom noticed that my sink in the kitchen wasn't draining. So my dad, bless his god damn heart, decided to fix it. Which ended up with broken parts, two anxious and rushed trips to Home Depot, and he insisted on sawing a plastic pipe when instead we could have gotten this expandable one, but that cost more money so NO!

I know you are dying to hear more about my plumbing problems.

Well you're gonna.

My dad worked on that sink for 3 hours. Not his fault, shitty pipes. Heh.

And god bless my dad for that.

And god bless my parents. They love me and god bless them for that goddammit. They are just terrified for me. Or something.

But godammit, does their love have to be so painful and tinged with doom? Can't we just pretend everything little thing is gonna be alright?

Because you never know anyway. I could have a Wall Street job and that Enron guy coulda stolen all my money and I'd be in the same position I am now.

So can we all just relax about the economy? The world's going to hell anyway. Let's just try to enjoy the ride.

Come on people smile on your DAUGHTER and all that shit.

But I love you Mom and Dad goddammit. I just wish it wasn't so hard.

Maybe I should blog.

Or not.

The Tale of the Worn-Out Bootstraps

So, the other night, I was arguing with this guy about depression.

I was saying that it isn't always a matter of attitude, that it is in fact, a real illness and often requires more than just an attitude adjustment.

But, he's one of those guys that thinks you can just think yourself out of depression. That it's not a real illness. That you should just cheer up. That you should "just pull yourself up by your bootstraps."

However, now I'm noticing that he might be having trouble supporting his own argument.

He tried to pull himself up by his bootstraps, but he just pulled them right off and fell down.

What's the Point?

I have no idea.

Hot Yoga Needs to Cool It

dear lori,

I teach hot yoga in NYC. The owner of the studio is a mad woman. She is the soup nazi of yoga - banning paying customers left and right, canceling yoga classes last minute with no warning, yelling and cursing at people about their bad negative energy when really she is the one creating this negative energy. From one BA in psych to another, I think she is certainly bipolar suffering with massive paranoid ideation as she believes almost everyone is stealing from her and also she believes her teachers are "stealing" the students. Now here's my problem: with the economy tanking and my hard earned BA in psych worth a pittance, I must hold on to this job. It supplies me with a "paycheck" (i hate that word!) also it gives me a very hot place I can practice physical yoga in. Can you give me advice on how to cope with the stress of a job that is supposed to free me from stress while also simultaneously coping with banal life stuff. For example, I cant pay bills anymore. I just cant do it. it bores me silly and there is just so many of them. I cant even pull them out of my mailbox anymore. I feel alone.

Dear Alone,

First off you are not alone. I am also bored INSANE by financial issues, much to my father's disappointment. I just want to drink Schlitz and watch Law and Order SVU reruns and don't see why I should be bothered by things like "taxes" and "bills" and "living."

Also, I kinda like the word "paycheck." I would like it if people called me that. Like hey Paycheck, you are lookin' good today! But these are my issues. Sorry, I'll try to stay focused here.

You are in a very difficult situation and it is very sad that your boss is ruining your life. I hate her.

I would suggest you try yoga, but you're already doing that.

My favorite way of dealing with a boss I don't like, is to call in sick repeatedly until I get fired. But I don't recommend that course of action for you. It hasn't worked well for me. So don't do that.

I think maybe your boss is just too damn hot. Maybe she's not cut out for being so hot all the time. I know when I get too hot, I also get cranky and start having paranoid delusions of persecution.

So why not turn down the heat a little? How about teaching lukewarm yoga instead?

Also, I suggest you bring your boss a nice cold beverage and lace it with Xanax. That will calm her down.

If you're not comfortable drugging your boss, then I think that whenever she starts being unruly you just should just shout "NAMASTE" at her over and over and over again until she gets the point. She's into yoga, that should work.

And regarding the bills, I like to throw mine into the garbage unopened. I would just leave them in the mailbox, but then it gets too full and I might miss something important, which I wouldn't really because nobody gets anything good in the mail anymore.

So, I suggest you subscribe to a magazine, just so there's something besides bills in your mailbox. This will make your trips to the mailbox more pleasant.

Maybe subscribe to Psychology Today, because they might have better advice then I do. Probably not, but maybe. Surely as a fellow BA in Psych, you will enjoy it, at least. And, hopefully there will be an article in there about how to enjoy paying your bills.

So drug your boss and subscribe to a magazine. I think I've pretty much solved all your problems. No need to thank me, it's just my gift.

Yours truly,
Dr. Lori, BA in Psych

Hey you! Yeah you!

Ask me a question, so I have something to talk about.

I have a BA in Psychology. So, I can help you with almost anything.

If you want to be anonymous - email me at lorimocha3000@gmail.com

Or just ask in the comments section, if you prefer.

Come on! Do it.

Yours truly,
Lori, BA in Psych

Does Snuggle Creme Cure Depression?

Ok sweet babies, this is too funny not to share. I was recently contacted by Katie, a Snuggle Creme advocate. Katie asked me to advertise Snuggle Creme to my readers.

I guess she thinks Snuggle Creme can cure depression? Use Snuggle Creme and say goodbye to depression!

And, when I asked Katie how she found my site, I got no reply.

Here's what Katie wrote to me (the first of THREE emails):

Hi Lori,

I'd like to extend an offer to you and your readers of Depression and Laughs a two dollar discount on Snuggle Creme fabric softener. Snuggle creme is a new product that adds two luxurious aromas to laundry time while softening your clothes. I've put together a news release with a coupon for two dollars off, information about Snuggle Creme, and some cute little Snuggle bear widgets you can pop onto your blog to share with your readers and give them easy access to the coupon:

http://snugglecreme.com/newsrelease

Please let me know if you need anything and if you're able to post.

Thank you so much,
Katie

Oh and Katie could not, of course, offer me any compensation for advertising her very important and relevant product.

Why on earth did Katie think that I would be interested in advertising her fabric softener for free?

And why does she think my readers would be interested in "cute little Snuggle bear widgets"?

I mean, I do love fabric softener. But how did she know?

So there you go, Katie. Now all my readers know about your exciting fabric softener offer.

Who can be sad when their clothes smell so damn good? I guess it really does make good sense.

Thanks Katie! Smell ya later!

(Special thanks to Katrin for the bear caption!)