Depression Part Two

I remember being endlessly entertained by the adventures of my toys. Some days they died repeated, violent deaths, other days they traveled to space or discussed my swim lessons and how I absolutely should be allowed in the deep end of the pool, especially since I was such a talented doggy-paddler.


I didn't understand why it was fun for me, it just was.


But as I grew older, it became harder and harder to access that expansive imaginary space that made my toys fun. I remember looking at them and feeling sort of frustrated and confused that things weren't the same.


I played out all the same story lines that had been fun before, but the meaning had disappeared. Horse's Big Space Adventure transformed into holding a plastic horse in the air, hoping it would somehow be enjoyable for me. Prehistoric Crazy-Bus Death Ride was just smashing a toy bus full of dinosaurs into the wall while feeling sort of bored and unfulfilled.  I could no longer connect to my toys in a way that allowed me to participate in the experience.


Depression feels almost exactly like that, except about everything.

At first, though, the invulnerability that accompanied the detachment was exhilarating. At least as exhilarating as something can be without involving real emotions.


The beginning of my depression had been nothing but feelings, so the emotional deadening that followed was a welcome relief.  I had always wanted to not give a fuck about anything. I viewed feelings as a weakness — annoying obstacles on my quest for total power over myself. And I finally didn't have to feel them anymore.

But my experiences slowly flattened and blended together until it became obvious that there's a huge difference between not giving a fuck and not being able to give a fuck. Cognitively, you might know that different things are happening to you, but they don't feel very different.


Which leads to horrible, soul-decaying boredom.



I tried to get out more, but most fun activities just left me existentially confused or frustrated with my inability to enjoy them.


Months oozed by, and I gradually came to accept that maybe enjoyment was not a thing I got to feel anymore. I didn't want anyone to know, though. I was still sort of uncomfortable about how bored and detached I felt around other people, and I was still holding out hope that the whole thing would spontaneously work itself out. As long as I could manage to not alienate anyone, everything might be okay!

However, I could no longer rely on genuine emotion to generate facial expressions, and when you have to spend every social interaction consciously manipulating your face into shapes that are only approximately the right ones, alienating people is inevitable.


Everyone noticed.


It's weird for people who still have feelings to be around depressed people. They try to help you have feelings again so things can go back to normal, and it's frustrating for them when that doesn't happen. From their perspective, it seems like there has got to be some untapped source of happiness within you that you've simply lost track of, and if you could just see how beautiful things are...


At first, I'd try to explain that it's not really negativity or sadness anymore, it's more just this detached, meaningless fog where you can't feel anything about anything — even the things you love, even fun things — and you're horribly bored and lonely, but since you've lost your ability to connect with any of the things that would normally make you feel less bored and lonely, you're stuck in the boring, lonely, meaningless void without anything to distract you from how boring, lonely, and meaningless it is.


But people want to help. So they try harder to make you feel hopeful and positive about the situation. You explain it again, hoping they'll try a less hope-centric approach, but re-explaining your total inability to experience joy inevitably sounds kind of negative; like maybe you WANT to be depressed. The positivity starts coming out in a spray — a giant, desperate happiness sprinkler pointed directly at your face. And it keeps going like that until you're having this weird argument where you're trying to convince the person that you are far too hopeless for hope just so they'll give up on their optimism crusade and let you go back to feeling bored and lonely by yourself.


And that's the most frustrating thing about depression. It isn't always something you can fight back against with hope. It isn't even something — it's nothing. And you can't combat nothing. You can't fill it up. You can't cover it. It's just there, pulling the meaning out of everything. That being the case, all the hopeful, proactive solutions start to sound completely insane in contrast to the scope of the problem.

It would be like having a bunch of dead fish, but no one around you will acknowledge that the fish are dead. Instead, they offer to help you look for the fish or try to help you figure out why they disappeared.


The problem might not even have a solution. But you aren't necessarily looking for solutions. You're maybe just looking for someone to say "sorry about how dead your fish are" or "wow, those are super dead. I still like you, though."


I started spending more time alone.


Perhaps it was because I lacked the emotional depth necessary to panic, or maybe my predicament didn't feel dramatic enough to make me suspicious, but I somehow managed to convince myself that everything was still under my control right up until I noticed myself wishing that nothing loved me so I wouldn't feel obligated to keep existing.


It's a strange moment when you realize that you don't want to be alive anymore. If I had feelings, I'm sure I would have felt surprised. I have spent the vast majority of my life actively attempting to survive. Ever since my most distant single-celled ancestor squiggled into existence, there has been an unbroken chain of things that wanted to stick around.


Yet there I was, casually wishing that I could stop existing in the same way you'd want to leave an empty room or mute an unbearably repetitive noise.


That wasn't the worst part, though. The worst part was deciding to keep going.


When I say that deciding to not kill myself was the worst part, I should clarify that I don't mean it in a retrospective sense. From where I am now, it seems like a solid enough decision. But at the time, it felt like I had been dragging myself through the most miserable, endless wasteland, and — far in the distance — I had seen the promising glimmer of a slightly less miserable wasteland. And for just a moment, I thought maybe I'd be able to stop and rest. But as soon as I arrived at the border of the less miserable wasteland, I found out that I'd have to turn around and walk back the other way.


Soon afterward, I discovered that there's no tactful or comfortable way to inform other people that you might be suicidal. And there's definitely no way to ask for help casually.


I didn't want it to be a big deal. However, it's an alarming subject. Trying to be nonchalant about it just makes it weird for everyone.


I was also extremely ill-prepared for the position of comforting people. The things that seemed reassuring at the time weren't necessarily comforting for others.


I had so very few feelings, and everyone else had so many, and it felt like they were having all of them in front of me at once. I didn't really know what to do, so I agreed to see a doctor so that everyone would stop having all of their feelings at me.


The next few weeks were a haze of talking to relentlessly hopeful people about my feelings that didn't exist so I could be prescribed medication that might help me have them again.


And every direction was bullshit for a really long time, especially up. The absurdity of working so hard to continue doing something you don't like can be overwhelming. And the longer it takes to feel different, the more it starts to seem like everything might actually be hopeless bullshit.


My feelings did start to return eventually. But not all of them came back, and they didn't arrive symmetrically.

I had not been able to care for a very long time, and when I finally started being able to care about things again, I HATED them. But hatred is technically a feeling, and my brain latched onto it like a child learning a new word.


Hating everything made all the positivity and hope feel even more unpalatable. The syrupy, over-simplified optimism started to feel almost offensive.


Thankfully, I rediscovered crying just before I got sick of hating things.  I call this emotion "crying" and not "sadness" because that's all it really was. Just crying for the sake of crying. My brain had partially learned how to be sad again, but it took the feeling out for a joy ride before it had learned how to use the brakes or steer.


At some point during this phase, I was crying on the kitchen floor for no reason. As was common practice during bouts of floor-crying, I was staring straight ahead at nothing in particular and feeling sort of weird about myself. Then, through the film of tears and nothingness, I spotted a tiny, shriveled piece of corn under the refrigerator.


I don't claim to know why this happened, but when I saw the piece of corn, something snapped. And then that thing twisted through a few permutations of logic that I don't understand, and produced the most confusing bout of uncontrollable, debilitating laughter that I have ever experienced.


I had absolutely no idea what was going on.


My brain had apparently been storing every unfelt scrap of happiness from the last nineteen months, and it had impulsively decided to unleash all of it at once in what would appear to be an act of vengeance.


That piece of corn is the funniest thing I have ever seen, and I cannot explain to anyone why it's funny. I don't even know why. If someone ever asks me "what was the exact moment where things started to feel slightly less shitty?" instead of telling a nice, heartwarming story about the support of the people who loved and believed in me, I'm going to have to tell them about the piece of corn. And then I'm going to have to try to explain that no, really, it was funny. Because, see, the way the corn was sitting on the floor... it was so alone... and it was just sitting there! And no matter how I explain it, I'll get the same, confused look. So maybe I'll try to show them the piece of corn - to see if they get it. They won't. Things will get even weirder.


Anyway, I wanted to end this on a hopeful, positive note, but, seeing as how my sense of hope and positivity is still shrouded in a thick layer of feeling like hope and positivity are bullshit, I'll just say this: Nobody can guarantee that it's going to be okay, but — and I don't know if this will be comforting to anyone else — the possibility exists that there's a piece of corn on a floor somewhere that will make you just as confused about why you are laughing as you have ever been about why you are depressed. And even if everything still seems like hopeless bullshit, maybe it's just pointless bullshit or weird bullshit or possibly not even bullshit.


I don't know. 

But when you're concerned that the miserable, boring wasteland in front of you might stretch all the way into forever, not knowing feels strangely hope-like. 






4,977 comments:

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Anonymous said...

Yesssss. This is it EXACTLY. It's this an exposé on my life over the past year?! Seriously, you've put in to words exactly what I've experienced and... NOT felt. Feels a little less lonely knowing that someone actually does get it. Thank you.

areyoukiddingme said...

Well, this has given me some insight into my husband's actions. I'm sorry you had to go through this, and I hope there are many more slightly-less-funny shriveled pieces of corn in your future. (Slightly less funny, so you know that you haven't just completely lost your mind.)

I completely agree with the pointless bullshit, but I don't think it's hopeless bullshit.

What is it about the grey hoodie of shame that just makes everything worse?

Anonymous said...

Crying so hard because this is where I am...well...pre-corn. And there's never a guarantee that there will be a piece of corn. But there's always the possibility I guess.

Thank you for putting things into a way that I understand super well. Even better, thank you for putting it into a language that might help OTHERS understand.

You are great.

Anonymous said...

Hello, welcome back! We've all been missing you, it's wonderful to read your stories again, especially one as insightful as this.

SUEB0B said...

This is the most genius thing ever about depression. I don't mean genius light, either. This is real genius.

Erin said...

Well said and drawn. Depression is so hard to explain! Glad you are on an uptick. Hope you stay there!

Shannon said...

Thank you for sharing this. I remember two times in my life where I had that same moment-- "it's not that I want to kill myself, it's that I'd like somehow to be dead, or so incapacitated that someone else has to take care of me."

Also, "corn" is a hilarious word. And a piece of corn-- forlorn corn even-- it's just too much.

Anonymous said...

Many hugs Allie.
As the husband of a Princess with Depression I will say it is the most misunderstood monster I've ever seen; no one seems to get it unless they're in it. I got to watch my wife have everything that made her who she was stripped away and replaced with- well nothing. If you (the reader, not Allie) are the spouse of a depressed person LEARN about this disease, it is NOT what you think it is; it has NOTHING to do with willpower, rather it removes willpower. Talk with people who've been through it, who are fighting it. And then fight for your sweetie, swallow your pride, postpone or minimize your needs, get help! After several years my wife has finally come back, bit by bit. It was hard fight but your loved one would be fighting for you if you had cancer, or any other recognized terminal illness. There are ups, downs, regressions, drawn out wastelands, but fight the good fight. Are there still bad days? Sure, but they are manageable, you can get through them. But it is a fight. Grow a set and go to battle for those who can't.

-Tim

Unknown said...

yes, there are no guarantees, are there? only choices to be made, corn to discover, and the unpredictability and absurdity of life. It's not hopeless bullshit, though sometimes it is bullshit, I find somewhere there is always hope. I'm glad you're seeing the maybe!

Ms. Pants said...

Note to self: look for the corn.

Missed you--happy/corn you're back!

ccledbetter said...

Thank you for posting this. Sounds so much like what I have been struggling with these last months. So glad to know I am not the only one.

Anonymous said...

this this this
this is just like how i felt. you have expressed what i haven't been able to explain, so many times. i just went through all of these things myself and Im so glad you're back. i missed your posts alot.

Katie said...

This is a hug.

I like you no matter what. Even if your fish are dead. Even if you're laughing at a piece of shriveled corn.

It's a really hard climb out of the place you've been in. So hard and scary and big and awful and exciting at times and then just too hard again.

Keep fighting. Keep looking for the next piece of corn.

Love,
Katie

Juliana said...

Fantastic, Allie, congratulations! I know very well how this is, and the most important part is you realized how dangerous that "not wanting to be alive" thing can be.
I remember when I realized that, I went to my dad (casually) and said "well.... it`s a good thing we have that cat-protection-screen on the window because I was feeling a lot like jumping from the 17th floor and maybe we need to talk about this..."
So I went to the doctors and thing are good now.
I still see life as meaningless, but I like living it :)

Jess said...

Latch on to every darn piece of corn. We'll laugh with you... and tell you how sorry we are that your freaking fish are dead. Because we are.

Linden V said...

I just wanted to let you know that I'm very happy that you didn't die or shrivel up or never come back.
Also, this post was amazing. When you were trying to figure out how to tell people you wanted to die....I laughed out loud and then started crying (not a good combination when you work in an office next to an open door where your boss is working). I laughed and cried simultaneously for the rest of the post. Mostly because I've been in a similar place. I hope things do get better for you, but you may have to struggle with it for a very long time, maybe forever. Just know that random strangers all over the world love you; it doesn't help a lot, I know, but still...

Jennifer M. said...

A friend found it easier to call it anhedonia than depression-- people think they know what depression is, so they'd try to make her be less sad, which... yeah, doomed to failure, that. So if she was talking about it to her family or her profs, she'd say "I have anhedonia. It's a condition where you can't feel feelings, so it all feels like nothing." Sometimes she (or her mum or sibs) would explain it's a symptom of depression, but because they didn't know the word, it made it easier to stop her extended family from being "helpful". People that don't have close experience do think depression is feeling sad, but sometimes it's the absence of joy, or the absence of anything. It's a bit of an umbrella term.

Anyway, I'm glad you are having feelings again, and that at least some of them are good and that you were able to talk to people even if it was awkward and they didn't really get it.

Anonymous said...

Great post! You somehow made me laugh out loud and ugly-cry at the same time and I'm really glad you're back.

Anonymous said...

That was beautiful, thank you.

Rachel said...

Well written!

I won't say it will get better, because it may not, but we appreciate you! Thanks for posting that!

Unknown said...



I don't know that there's any loss as devastating as the loss of your hope. Once that's gone, it's impossible for anything else to matter. It comes back though, I promise you. But get there in your own way and in your own time and don't let anyone pressure you into doing it their way.

Everyone worthy of you will be here patiently waiting and hoping on your behalf until you can do it for yourself again.

Kate said...

"Shhh... it's okay. Life is meaningless anyway." HAHAHAHAHAHA. Yes, you even managed to make suicidal thoughts funny. I'm glad to see this post. Thanks for writing it.

Ginny said...

Thank you. My depression was/is just like this, but with all the people describing it in terms of intense sadness, I sorta felt like I was doing depression wrong. Or that it was only a mild one because I wasn't full of tears and anguish all the time. Reading this made me feel so much less alone.

PabloR13 said...

I haven't felt like that myself but I've had friends who have. I think I understood the fish were dead when they were feeling that way.

Anyway, I love you and I hope you're okay and HUG!

Anonymous said...

I would like to add to the many people saying that the way you have described this is EXACTLY what I went through a few years ago myself. This description is wonderfully written and I can totally identify with every word. When one is that far into depression, it's hard to find anything to have an emotion over. I am glad you found your corn. Keep that corn close to your heart, now and always. Thank you for writing this. I am going to be sharing this with a few people so they can understand where I was too. I can't say I have recovered 100%, but I agree... maybe not everything is hopeless bullshit.

Unknown said...

Thank you so much. I learned things from this post and I am grateful.

Anonymous said...

Yep, this is me since I became a mom. I think I'm on the upswing though after seventeen months. So far it's been a rocky road back up, but it sounds like you are "upswinging," too, and I am so glad for you!

Unknown said...

You are awesome. You know that, right? If not, please write that in your face. I'm sure there's space. :)

Schneekuh said...

I'm sorry if my earlier comment was perceived as "too corny".

Vicky said...

Much love, Allie. Thanks for sharing with us, your bravery is amazing. Thanks for stepping back from the fence. xoxoxo

Anonymous said...

My best friend went through a very scary and terrible depression and this helps me understand what it was like for her, she trudged through it, and with the help of doctors and friends, she is better. I'm glad to know you're moving in a better direction. *hugs*

wildflowers said...

It is amazing how right on all this is. Life becomes nothing when you are depressed. I want to thank you for writing this. There are some people who have no idea what it is like to be depressed. They have no way of comprehending the nothing just like we have no way of comprehending the feelings. I so get the, make your face into shapes that show emotions too. Totally self conscious about that.

Gwen said...

Thank you for this. Just....thank you. And if I could buy that tiny shriveled piece of corn a drink or something, I would.

Anonymous said...

I had a vivid memory while reading this post. I'm sitting in the basement of my parents house, rolling a ball across the floor. I start to cry because it's not fun for me the way it would have been fun when I was " a kid". I think I was about 7 or 8 when this happened. This was about the time I started not wanting to be alive. Not that I wanted to kiill myself, I just did'nt want to be alive anymore. The thought that all the things I loved would wither away was ( sometimes is) just too crushing.
Missed you, hope you're not crushed.

Bevis said...

I think the people saying how glad they are that you're "back" and "happier now" are missing the point of your post entirely. And not necessarily being very helpful.

Thank you for sharing the second part to your story. You are loved and you can come and go as you please, as far as I'm concerned. Your health is paramount, so if that means you're now absent from the internet for another 18 months, then so be it - and I wish you well.

In the meantime, I hope you have kept that piece of corn. For real, it is the most famous piece of corn in the universe and will someday be a centerpiece in the Allie Brosh Museum of Fun and Other Shit.

<3

Marie Nicole said...

This is my most favorite corny story ever! (Get it? CORNY!) Take that piece of corn, mount it on a ring and wear it with pride. It saved your life.

I'm so happy you're back!

p.s. depression is so not fun

JJ said...

Hugs to you.

And more corn.

Anonymous said...

you are brave. and rad. please continue.

Alie said...

Thanks Allie.. Great post. Good job plundering through the sand and rocks until you got to the corn. Incidentally, I get it. About the corn. Once i had a similar experience of laughter breakthrough over a bottle cap on top of a salt shaker.

Jen said...

I'm so glad that you're back. Thank you so much for this post.

Ugh. This is such a solid description of my downward spiral during the second half of 2012. I was never actively suicidal (the regular fantasies about walking into rush-hour traffic never became action), but I would have been totally fine with disappearing from the universe forever. And of course everyone wanted to help and I just wanted to sit in my pajamas and stare at the wall because there wasn't anything else and protecting other people's feelings was exhausting. It's funny how hate and crying jags were the first things to come back for both of us. I'm doing pretty well right now, but my bullshit meter is still turned up to 11 (which is surprisingly useful on occasion).

Anonymous said...

As someone who is bipolar I drop in and out of depression on a semi-regular basis. YOu NAILED how it feels when you hit the lowest points. THANK YOU. Because I can't ever seem to explain it, so now I can send them here.

They still won't get it, but I will have done my part without having to come up with words.

Anonymous said...

Thank you for sharing this. This is me. This is 30+ years of my life. This is everything I've ever tried and failed to convey to people who just don't understand. As I read through this, over and over I found myself nodding. Yes. It's EXACTLY. LIKE. THAT.

In the future, I think, I'm just going to show this link to all the people who just don't get it.

Rune said...

YES THAT IS IT. That is how it feels. So glad you found that corn and welcome back.

You give me corn like hope!

Anonymous said...

You have described the nothing better than anyone else ever has. Thank you. And welcome back. You were missed.

christineleigh said...

i knew you'd be back. it's good to hear from you.

Noodle Heiress said...

I'm so glad you're back and thank you for writing everything about depression that I never could.

Anonymous said...

No one has ever explained depression as well as this. Ever. Especially the part where you get so mad that you're feeling feelings again. Oh, I hated that evil prozac for making me feel things. Or maybe loathed. Hate would be too many feelings. What a jerk.

Anonymous said...

For me the most insidious aspect of capital D is that I have absolutely no desire to do the things that I know will make me feel better. In the end, abiding is all we have.

William PJ Kulich said...

You explained that incredibly well. Nicely done.

Pinkabell said...

Thank you so much for expressing how I've felt these past months (ok...years, if I'm really honest). I laughed and cried at the same time, especially at the "not wanting to exist but not really wanting to commit suicide and how on Earth do you communicate this to the people around you" bit. And the "dead fish" example is spot on - people try so hard to help you, but that only puts more pressure on you when you are already overwhelmed. But then, how are they supposed to react if they have never had depression themselves? I'd probably be helpless myself faced with a weirdo who can't feel anything anymore.
You are brilliant and I am so happy you are back!

Anonymous said...

You've been missed, Allie!!! My the heavens rain corn all over you!

Jenni said...

Wow this is so good...

when I got to the part about you seeing the corn, I started to cry because I was so happy for you.

does that make sense at all...?

I'm praying for you :)

NinjaHead said...

<3 <3 <3

Allison said...

I love the piece of corn epiphany! Totally cracked me up :)

Jonathan said...

Your blog used to make me laugh when I was depressed, you know.

I'm glad you're back. Stay here in everything-might-not-be-bullshit land. The world needs more of your particularly insightful brand of humor.

True story.

Anonymous said...

I loved your post. welcome back!!!
good luck. I wish you keep recovering and feel better everyday.

Anonymous said...

This is, perhaps, one of the best illustrations of depression I've seen in a long time. And I laughed the entire way through, especially at the "I don't want to kill myself per se but I don't want to be alive anymore" bit, because it's so, so incredibly true. I've often thought about the weird bouts of "I don't know why I'm laughing/crying, it's just a thing that's happening" and wondered if it's the just body's way of re-learning to deal with emotion. You've lost the ability to parse simple emotions, let alone complex ones, and so your body defaults to a basic response in an attempt to cope. And the more emotions you have again, the less weird embarrassing reactions you'll have to them.

Anyway, I've been worrying about you and am glad to see a post from you. Made my day :)

Pam said...

You are so articulate. This is exactly how I felt last summer, and I'm just now digging myself out of it. It doesn't help that I have a husband who has NO clue what depression can be like. Thanks for being you, Allie.

Anonymous said...

I kinda know how you felt/feel. I'm super glad you got some help! I know things will be better in time.

Unknown said...

Beautiful and truthful, and I'm sorry you had to suffer for so long before you were able to find help. Also, the comedy is still there. You still have it. Welcome back!

Anonymous said...

You are braver then the majority of us; being able to talk to people and get medical help. Please don't forget that those things alone are some of the bravest things a person can do. Wishing you luck and continued improvement in the future.
~Amz

Anonymous said...

I'm on vacay, depressed, anxious and not sure what the hell there is to do about it. And I don't really care in a lot of ways.

But maybe somewhere there is corn.

I can live with that.

Anonymous said...

This post was perfect. I may borrow it in an attempt to explain myself to people who don't get it. I am exactly where you were with the dead fish... Thank you for sharing and making me feel a little less alone and strange.

~B

Froggymama said...

Only someone who has lived this can understand it, and express it like you have. The feels. It burns.

Unknown said...

Yeah... that resonates for me like WOW

I am sorry that you also understand what that feels like... just wanting to leave... to stop.

Thank you for making me feel less alone and like a freak. (cause crying on the floor all winter staring into space does not feel like ok social)

Also, "I am interacting..." is great.

Yes, face not big enough.

If you are interested in things again, you might want to check out "Theory of Positive Disintegration" and "I Won’t Try to Fix You": http://www.piltser.com/resources/gifted/emotions/
Or, not.

I don't know either.

J

Mary Jane said...

Glad you found your *corn*ucopia... Hope it holds what you are wanting!

Unknown said...

Yes, that's it. I'm glad you are back. Your posts make me happy, even the sad ones.

Anonymous said...

I so totally get this. I'm living it right now. Thanks for sharing--at least I know I'm not TOTALLY alone....

Unknown said...

Thank you for sharing this- stay well!

Kit Lang said...

Thank you for making the endless permutations of depression more understandable (and palatable) to an audience who may not understand or like what depressed people are trying to say.

And thanks for letting us know that you're reasonably okay.

Looking forward to more, when you're able.

Anonymous said...

Thank you for being brave enough to share this. I haven't been able to yet, but knowing that this is how depression also manifests for someone else makes me feel a little braver, too.

strayfarce said...

MISSED. YOU. SO. MUCH. Glad you're back, lady! :D

Anonymous said...

I've skirted around this depth of depression before and thank you so much for posting this! Your comics, metaphors, way of explaining - all of what you do is 100% honest and true and thank you so very much for sharing!!

Lois said...

Thanks for posting this, it's only been a few weeks since I posted something about my own struggles with depression on my own blog. Thank you for making me feel less alone, and for being brave enough to share this :)

G. said...

I'm so happy you are back! Also, i'm glad to know that maybe everything isn't hopeless bullshit. That's something useful to know, atm. I'll try to keep that in mind. :)

Melanie said...

You have an amazing gift to communicate with people this way. You put a lot of thoughts and feelings that are so hard to explain into a format that both people who have experienced this and those who haven't can get, and you also made it entertaining.

Never give up. (:

Cindy said...

Well said!! I'm so glad you wrote this and that you're on your way out of the hopeless bullshit.

That is the best piece of corn ever!

Caitlan said...

It's kinda creepy that you have described all these feelings in the exact way I experienced them. I'm so glad that you've discovered that life might not be crap anymore. I want you to keep discovering. And don't worry. I was laughing with you at the lonely piece of corn.

Anonymous said...

Depression sucks. Glad to see you are making your way through it. I've learned to ride it like a roller coaster. I've stopped being scared of the ride down because I know eventually I'll be heading back up. As I've gotten older the ups and downs have leveled out. They neither go as high or as low as they once did. Hang in there. It may not be something you will get completely over, but it can become something you can manage.

Marcela said...

This might be a stupid comment, but this would have made me cry if I weren't taking such a high dose of antidepressants and mood stabilizers.
And knowing for sure I'm coming across corny, let me just say that it almost feels like a weight has been lifted off my chest knowing I'm not the only one.

Shit, I feel like puking now.

Anonymous said...

Yayyyy, so glad you're back! I can relate to this a little bit too well to feel comfortable about it.

Konen said...

I've been fighting depression on/off for the past 13 years. Your drawings are just spot on for how it feels. It sucks, and when you're in it it's not a matter of "not being able to see your way out of it" - but a matter of there not being a way out. Period.

I don't know how or why the way out suddenly appears sometimes, and I don't know why it's always something really weird, like a piece of shrivelled corn.

Maybe you were expecting some kind of point to this. There isn't one. Sorry.

s said...

i feel things so strongly, i wished that i didn't. and then they told me i had depression, and i slept all the time and stared blankly at things and my wish to not feel things so deeply backfired because then i couldn't feel anything at all. i hated those people who didn't get it. who told me to cheer up and look on the bright side. at least as much hate i could muster in my emotionless state. i wished people would tell me that this was ok.

your dead fish metaphor fits depression to the t, or ..scale, whatever. i still believe in hope, but i don't bother with positivity and optimism anymore. if i'm having a bad day, it's contributing to me having a FULL life. i'm not about the pursuit of happiness.

thanks for writing this, and thanks for coming back.

Alexxius said...

Ah...Allie.

You realise you are the reason the zombies who I run away from at night don't actually eat me. They go hungry and I hide in the fridge.

Anonymous said...

This actually made me sob. I'm serious. I'm sitting here alone in the living room on my couch, staring and my laptop and sobbing -- snot and everything. It was the part about the wasteland that started it for me, and then the corn did me in. I'm sorry you've been going through this, Allie, and I hope it continues to get better. (Needless to say, I relate.)

Maja said...

Thank you...

Laura said...

Allie, the collective internet has been supes worried about you, and we're glad you're getting help and feeling a bit better!

<3 - The Internet

Unknown said...

Love this SO much.
I have a less funny/concise blog about depression: http://gazinginwardz.blogspot.co.uk/2013/04/derealisation.html

This reminded me of the horrible flatness I used to get particularly a few years ago.

I've had depression(?) forever, so sometimes wonder if it's even depression anymore... especially after reading this. I have anxiety too. I might have a personality disorder, but I might just be a horrible self obsessed hypochondriac.

I have a creative business which I've had to put on hold, and am thinking about 'coming out' and saying I've been having mental health issues, but I've had them forever, so maybe it's just me & not worth saying?

Blah blah. xXx

etherealpr said...

Thanks for the amazing return! I will now start scattering random kernels in lonely spots from time to time, in the weird hope that this will spark more unleashings of laughter.

Did you ever read Borgel by Daniel Pinkwater? There's a seemingly random object at the heart of it that seems much like your corn. It's just there -- it doesn't need a why. The point is that it worked. It did something. Some little bit of the amazing stuff that YOU have done for so many of us came back and did a little crucial, vital something for you, and it might never have worked had it not been something as nondescript and random as the corn. May there be many more such things, whenever and wherever you need them.

Been_There_Done_That said...

Having gone through this exact situation, I laughed way too much at this. Something I thought ineffable, you have conveyed perfectly. The way to prevent being sucked into this cycle I have found is continual pursuit of knowledge (though, it is almost impossible at the lows). Glad to see you're doing okay!

Ceri said...

I am sorry your fish are/were? dead, but I am glad you found your corn. Welcome back, hope to keep seeing you around. Thank you for sharing. My husband some times gets depressed. This helps me understand.

Fellipe said...

Once I meet you, I'll give you a hug and then walk away. People talk too much.

Anonymous said...

What kind of juice was that?

Kittenfritters said...

All hail corn!

Anonymous said...

Exactly. Thank you.

Mel said...

You got it exactly right, even the pictures. I'm glad you're better. I know how disorienting it is when no one sees what you see, or knows what it is to feel like flat stanley in a 3d world. And the corn made me laugh until I cried. Thank you for sharing and for being so honest and brave.

Brittanie said...

Thank you, Allie. I'm still looking for my piece of corn.

Unknown said...

I'm so glad that you're okay, Allie :) it's a horrible thing to go through and no one as awesome as you deserves to have those feels xx

Anonymous said...

you read my mind on depression

Anonymous said...

Some people will tell you to take it one day at a time. I will tell you take it one breath at a time. I have been there, only without a piece of corn. I am still there some days. On those days, I just remind myself to keep breathing. (sort of like Dory with just keep swimming, but in a less chipper more slogging through endless ooze sort of way) Thank you for sharing.

phoebeblue said...

Thank you! For explaining something I've never been very good at explaining, and just for coming up so we all know you're still around. Not that you owe a bunch of random Internet people ANYTHING, but... we worry how you are, and it's fantastic that you're still existing even when it's horrible and weird. You made my week. :)

Annie said...

This was an awesome post. Definitely helps me better understand how people from my life have felt while battling depression. Thanks for the eye-opening read with a generous side of humor. Keep em comin!

Anonymous said...

Thank you for sharing! Not everyone gets depression. My mom said 'go out and get a gym membership.' 'You're over reacting.' 'ugh, you don't need to see a therapist do you?' telling her I was standing on a subway platform with 1 foot off the edge didn't happen, but I feel a lot better since then. Depression comes in waves, but for every down there is an up. Hope we make it through ok!

Anonymous said...

Thank you for putting in words and pictures how some of us (a lot? alot?!) feel/not feel. My psychologist told me that making the decision to live was the most courageous thing I could do. It takes a huge effort to just keep going.

Rebecca McNulty said...

The corn is, in fact, funny. Keep hanging in there, and thanks for posting again.

Mac said...

This comes closest to explaining what I've been feeling for a long time now than any way I've tried to put it myself. And the ending...helped. A lot.
Welcome back, Allie. Thank you for being brilliant.

Cathy said...

Oh Allie, I'm sure you don't need yet another person saying they know how you feel, but... I know how you feel. Depression is evil and mind-fucking and soul-sucking and I hope yours goes away.

Anonymous said...

THANK YOU. The, "I don't want to kill myself... I just want to die" thing is so difficult to explain that I have never tried. Plus I assumed everyone felt this way from time to time.

Lisa Meconi said...

Allie, THANK YOU! Welcome back. I have missed your blog SO much. And thank you for sharing your adventures in depression. I have so many friends going through this and I never really understood what they were going through. I still probably don't, but I'm closer! This is genius and I can't wait for the book. XOXO and best of luck!

Sarah said...

Welcome back. I'm so, so glad you found that corn kernel.Beautiful post, a+, would read again.

Anonymous said...

Thank you.

Bug World said...

Work your thing girl, however you need, Also, I would have sat and quietly looked at the fish with you for as long as it took for you to see me there. I did with my sister and it helped her.

Anna said...

I don't know what to say. Thank you. This was so genuine, and your explanation of depression is just... so well put. I actually cried.

Life can change, though. I've been depressed for years, and I've spent a lot of time being angry life was given to me - I felt like life was not a gift, but a burden. I still do, but also somehow feel slightly better now than I did a year ago.

I just want to give you a hug.

Anna said...

I don't know what to say. Thank you. This was so genuine, and your explanation of depression is just... so well put. I actually cried.

Life can change, though. I've been depressed for years, and I've spent a lot of time being angry life was given to me - I felt like life was not a gift, but a burden. I still do, but also somehow feel slightly better now than I did a year ago.

I just want to give you a hug.

Nicky Davidson said...

Yeah, but you should try yoga whilst watching the sunrise...

So very well put, especially people having their emotions 'at' you. How do you manage to turn the thoughts in my head into eloquent and accurate words?

Also - your hatred face made me splutter with laughter and people at the desks near me at work think I'm odd now.

Matt Algren said...

I have dead fish, too, and everybody pretends they're alive and flopping around in my hands. Also, the 2nd orange background one. Thanks for saying it. I'm always surprised that people don't understand that.

Feaky Snucker said...

A couple years back I felt the same way. I wasn't going to kill myself, but if a bus had happened to come along and hit me, I'd have been fine with it. Which was sad, but I was keeping my options open. Which is also sad. I'm feeling much better now. My piece of corn was the inane, hilarious product Neuticles - fake testicle implants for your dog/ cat after you've had them neutered, which are hilarious enough. But they have an option where you can get a pair made into a necklace, or earrings. I wandered around for three days, randomly saying, 'NEUTICLES.' No one else got it. -_- But *I* did.

Unknown said...

laugh at ALL the corn!

Anonymous said...

Thank you for understanding. I'm sorry that you do.

Anonymous said...

You.Are.Awesome!

Jess A. said...

Allie, thank you so much for sharing this. This describes so much of my own experience that... I burst into tears at my desk & had to go hide in the office bathroom for 5 minutes. It's kinda messed up, but that should be taken as a ringing endorsement.

It can be really hard to explain depression to people. This is one of the clearest explanations I've ever seen of what parts of my experience have been like. I really can't thank you enough. I hope things are good, or are getting there. Thanks for making it clear to so many people how Not Alone we are.

perla said...

i want to send you a bushel of corn to wish you well :) you've described this so well! definitely have been there. glad to see you back!

Shakeitstrumpet said...

Sitting at work with tears in my eyes. This was beautiful. Thank you.

Anonymous said...

Thanks Allie.

Unknown said...

Oh how I've missed your posts... :)

Anonymous said...

I am sorry about your fish, but I still love you and your blog.

Joe said...

As a depression sufferer, I completely understand and resonate with this post. From now on I will always look for the floor corn.

LGG said...

Alie, you're awesome. And so damn articulate. Stick with us, k? Going through some wasteland myself these days.

Kittenfritters said...

Corn!

Lizzy Leigh said...

I just want to say that BTDT. When I got to your part about the corn, I started crying and laughing at the same time, because I know *exactly* what you mean. I'm glad you found your corn. Keep it, make it in to a locket or something. That corn is awesome. Glad your back.

Anonymous said...

Thank you for this. You have an incredible talent for expressing the unexpressable. I lost it at "I don't necessarily want to KILL myself, I just want to be dead somehow." I've felt that many times, but I was afraid to tell people that, because I thought they would immediately commit me and pump me full of things. But I wasn't really a risk to my own health. But I was actively rooting for the planes I was riding on to experience freak accidents, so that I could die but not by my own hand. I've never said that out loud (or typed that...). Thanks for this. I'm sorry you have been and are going through this... but I'm thankful for you and your talent to give a name or a phrase or a sentence to the things I have felt. Thank you for being you.

Anonymous said...

Allie, I'm so sorry you've been through this tough time.

I've suffered depression over the years, and after all the people who have ever told me to just cheer up, do something fun, think about all the positive things in your life, etc. I've just stopped telling people about my depression. They don't get it. I'm sorry that you "get it". I'm sorry that I "get it".

I don't know what else to say, except I hope things continue to look up for you. You're a really amazing person, and it would truly be a tragedy for you to not be here anymore.

-R

Anonymous said...

Thank you for this. You have an incredible talent for expressing the unexpressable. I lost it at "I don't necessarily want to KILL myself, I just want to be dead somehow." I've felt that many times, but I was afraid to tell people that, because I thought they would immediately commit me and pump me full of things. But I wasn't really a risk to my own health. But I was actively rooting for the planes I was riding on to experience freak accidents, so that I could die but not by my own hand. I've never said that out loud (or typed that...). Thanks for this. I'm sorry you have been and are going through this... but I'm thankful for you and your talent to give a name or a phrase or a sentence to the things I have felt. Thank you for being you.

Trueself said...

It's almost scary how much I can relate to your post. When I started feeling happy after several years of depression it scared me. I thought I was becoming bipolar because it felt so opposite of how I'd been for so long. My therapist assured me that having happy feelings wasn't at all like swinging into the manic phase of bipolar disorder and that happy feelings were okay. They were just so foreign to me that I wasn't quite sure what to do with them. I think only people who suffer from depression will understand this comment. I'm still working on coming to terms with being okay with being happy.

Anonymous said...

Maybe most things are bullshit and sucky... but you are not, and you made me laugh REALLY hard on a day when I was really sad. So thank you.

Sean said...

I'm actually crying, I'm so glad that things are at least looking different, and that you could laugh at a dumb piece of corn, that everything might not be bullshit, just everything.

Satellitegirl said...

Have been there, and still go there at times. Who knows if there is meaning to all this garbage of daily life. I don't. I try to make my own meaning, when I can. Seems like being capable of deeper thought is a bane of the human race at times. Then again, maybe we're just in a simulation, and only actually conversing in "The Sims" garble. Certainly glad you're back to posting though. Or in sims language " :D *in a bubble above my head* " You're talented, and your humor is awesome.

Andrew said...

You really nailed it Allie.

When I was younger I was very depressed (it went away after a year or two after taking Vitamin B12 shots), and no one could really understand what it was like. Even I didn't understand.

All I knew is that I was really apathetic.

Your post described those feelings better than I ever knew. You nailed it.

apryl said...

I feel like I have a better understanding of depression now. I am glad you have found a way to express it that in a way that is soley wonderfully yours :)

Unknown said...

You don't know how much I can relate and do see the humor in the corn, also for no apparent reason other than you're not alone in this journey or the feelings surrounding it.

Anonymous said...

So much love. Depression is so fucking maddening, upsetting, and awkward, to put it mildly. Hoping for better days ahead for you! Cheering you on!!

Anonymous said...

I am very thankful that you chose to and are able to share this with us. Thank you! As with all your writing, it made me laugh and feel a little uncomfortable and that's exactly what I hoped it would do :) I missed reading your writing.

Lisa said...

Thank you for writing this! I had severe post partum anxiety, bordering on psychosis. Even though they are very different, it's amazing how connected I felt to this. Plus, I've been working up the courage to figure out if/how I want to share my experiences. This helps a lot because I don't think you could have possibly explained it better. Thank you! And weird coincidence--the radio silence on my blog lasted about 18 months as well. 18 months of some variations of hell, then tolerable, then last fall things had meaning again, now even though life's not perfect, it's hard to believe that I was 100% sure life could never be good again. Because it's better than ever, maybe be because I have a black hole period of my life to contrast it with.

Margot said...

Thanks so much for sharing. I'm glad you found you r piece of corn on life. I hope you find more.

Erik said...

Thank you so much. I've missed your posts, and you nailed this one for me.

Libby Tuesday said...

I laughed SO MUCH reading this, because I can empathise with this more than I'd like to be able to.
I've lived with type 2 bipolar disorder for... well, for always, I guess, and I've been through horrible periods of extended depression. I've wanted to stop existing, I've been impervious to feelings, and I've wanted people to stop trying to fix me and just admit my fish are dead.
All I'll say is, dead fish or no, I think you're neat, and if I knew you IRL I'd be willing to keep you company in the wasteland.
Stay you

Libby

Rocco Privetera said...

Please sell me a poster of the last "hopeless bullshit" picture!

Shannon said...

Thank you for this, I definitely don't feel as alone in the void and the struggle with the positive people trying to projectile vomit hope in my face. I understand the corn!

Brad said...

Hey, sorry about your dead fish. I still really like you though.

Anonymous said...

Hi Allie,

I'm so glad you're feeling something again... even if it is just hatred or corn laughter. The world is a better place with you in it. At least my world is. And I don't even know you. So there.

Keep doing your best.

Alex T. said...

...at least one other person is now laughing at the corn (hint: it's me) though I'm not sure if I'm laughing at your laughter about the corn or just the corn itself.

I'm glad you're safe and getting better, and my sympathies for the hard times you've been going through /jedi hugs.

Elaine Mihailoff said...

i stopped the whole being an adult and working thing to read this because it's a post by you and that is one of my favorite things.

bullshit is pretty bullshitty and life is lifey but so it goes. it's those pieces of corn that somehow make it worthwhile.

Suzahne said...

Thank you. That was awesome - I relate to it, so does my daughter probably. I'm glad you eventually found your corn - I'm betting this post might end up being someone else's corn, if you know what I mean. I hope things keep getting better for you.

Anonymous said...

I'm sorry your fish died. I hope your new fish live a long, long time.

Anne said...

I'm so happy you're back!!!

Jamie said...

You managed to express the nightmare world I drifted in and out of for years. My piece of corn was Duran Duran, which was maybe nicer to look at, but I get it.

Thank you for sharing, I hope you continue to heal. I am certain that by sharing this experience you WILL help others.

Best Wishes

nnette said...

Allie YOU are my corn! I cannot believe I can laugh my ass off and sob simultaneously. <3

Anonymous said...

You're so right - why don't people realize the fish are dead? I found comfort in this post and I'm so thankful you're out there.

Anonymous said...

how uplifting it is to hear someone understand you after wading through an incessant mob of optimistic snake oil salesmen who don't even realize they are selling bullshit. your truth, and the courage it took to share it, made this piece of corn feel connected and less alone. many thanks. keep writing!

Anonymous said...

Thank you.

tangled said...

If you're looking for people to understand about the corn, I think this is as far as you'll ever need to go SEE ALL THE PEOPLE WHO UNDERSTAND THE LACK OF FEELINGS.
I'm not saying it will make you happy, it will just be less feelings at you.
Because we all know.

Thank you so much for coming back to us. <3

Jon said...

I'm glad you posted this - I missed reading your stuff, and even though I don't know you I do think about you from time to time hoping things are getting better.
I know that nobody experiences depression in exactly the same way as anybody else so I'm not going to insult you by saying "yeah, I've been there, I understand what you're going through". But...I have my own experience with depression. I'm doing a lot better now than I was 15, 10, 5 years ago. Just in the past month, I started to get *ambition*. Are you kidding me? It's not like "I thought I'd never feel ambitiousness again"; it's more like I forgot it was a thing. Or maybe, I considered it as being "a thing for some people but I'm not in the group that it's for". Like high heels.
Anyway, it was good to hear from you, and I hope things continue to improve for you.

Laura L. Cline said...

I applaud your honesty and insight. Good for you for putting your story out there; you just might help someone understand the mystery of depression from inside the void.

Anonymous said...

You just explained my life. Thank you for being you. Your ability to put into words what depression really and truly feels like is remarkable. I cannot thank you enough for your words.

Wendy said...

YAY Allie! So so glad you are back. Not entirely comfortable laughing as hard as I did about suicide and depression :)But so very happy that you are feeling unshitty enough to post. LOVE YOU!!!

Kbar3 said...

Best description about depression. Glad you found the corn.

Toi Box said...

This! Holy Fuck This!

*throws self on the floor looking for corn...Is old popcorn the same?*

Liz Peterson said...

I keep trying to promote Depression awareness, because the happy people who DO NOT GET IT make me crazy.
No, I cannot just 'be happy'. No, I'm not going to be cured by leaving the house, or reading LOLcats, or reading fluff magazines. I know that when YOU, Happy Person, feel sad, it's a transitory state that you can 'get out of'... But that's not DEPRESSION. That's not what is wrong with me.
Your analogy is spot on: "My fish are dead, and I can't just WISH them better."

I hope your feelings keep coming back. Sometimes it takes longer. Sometimes it's a bitch because then you feel too much of the bad and not enough of the good. When people tell you "HOPE will fix everything" that's bullshit. But hope itself isn't bullshit... It's that last little feeling that gets you out of bed, makes you eat food when you've no real desire to, and keeps you conscious. Real hope is more like admitting that there MIGHT be good things out there SOMEDAY. Even if it feels like a feeble undeserving wish... There are still good things.
Also, I'm glad you have real people who care and stick with you, even if they just don't get it. Hang in there!

Sarah said...

I live for those moments when I see the corn kernel under the fridge.

Jess said...

"I agreed to see a doctor so that everyone would stop having all of their feelings at me"

God, yes. Sometimes there isn't enough shielding in the world to get people to stop feeling at you when you don't want their feelings.

Glad you're writing again. And yay, corn!

Anonymous said...

I needed this today.

And I've laughed at corn too.

Thank you.

Unknown said...

Fuck I remember how this feels. Congratulations, you made me both laugh and cry. I've never met anyone who can make the dark despair of depression as funny as you do. (Not...that I've met you. But.)

I'm so very very glad you're back.

Sarah G said...

I sooooo know how this feels. I'm really glad that you got help and things are looking less down!!

Anonymous said...

You're awesome. :)

Anonymous said...

Thank you for writing this.

StumbleBum said...

I can't possibly relate to what you've been through, but that doesn't matter. I'll still be here for you.

Anonymous said...

It took me decades to figure out that "I wish I were dead" was actually shorthand for "I wish things were different and better and that someone trustworthy and kind would come and help me because I don't know how to get out of this dead-end cul-de-sac and it's awful."

In the end, it took meds, a light box, fixing my sleep, and a ton of therapy (from a nonprofit who believed in me). Eventually I realized, despite decades to the contrary, that I am actually kind of made of awesome, and being the hero of my own life is way more fun and satisfying than the old way. I get to have this, and fuck anything that says otherwise.

Anonymous said...

Best description ever. And funny, which is kind of amazing. Thank you -- this will help other people who are in it, as well as those who are actually trying to be helpful but don't have a clue. And welcome back. You have been missed.

Margot said...

Thanks so much for sharing. I'm glad you found you r piece of corn on life. I hope you find more.

Anonymous said...

Best description of the breaking point of depression ever! I understand the corn. It was a shower for me. Idk why, just was. Keep going. Much love.

Manda said...

Thank you for writting this! I can relate to so much of it!

MostlyMandy said...

So completely accurate! I'm glad things are less shitty and that maybe there will be rainbows in your future :)

--Jesslyn. said...

Allie--I'm so happy you're back because reading your words makes me happy. And as someone who's gone through an extremely similar situation, I've learned how important the small things are if they bring even a moment of joy. That's What you do for me. And if my boyfriend ever asks why I'm sad or just crying today, I will show him this post because I'll never explain it as Well (because is usually my answer). If you every want to talk, reach out to me. On the selfish side I hope for more posts now. Love you.

Anonymous said...

I missed you. I'm glad your fish are less dead, or you got new fish, or they turned into a hilariously funny piece of corn, or however the metaphor goes from there.

Sunnyscattered said...

Thank you!! You've just described my life for the last 18 months and while it's utterly pants that you had to go through all that (and I really do know just how pants that is), it's wonderful that you can not only talk about it, but share it in a way that someone who's never experienced depression could understand. I hope the remaining fog lifts for you soon and that no one ever again tells you to ' just think positive'

Kristin said...

Thanks, this really helped me.

AnxiousPenman said...

Glad to see the emotions are starting to come back, even if in confusing ways. Looking back at my own history of depression, the "forgetting how to feel feelings, and desperately trying to fake it" period was the most difficult time of my life. I hope that it does continue to get better for you.

And I'm betting a great many of us can identify with the "corn" bit.

Melinda said...

I will never look at corn the same way again. *HUGE HUGS*

ErikaRobin said...

So the corn...it's like a metaphor...



Well played, madame. (We've missed the snot out of you.)

Kristin said...

Life finds so many ways to fuck us, doesn't it? None of it makes any sense. But somehow we keep going. So glad to see you back. It gives me hope.

Simple Mama said...

I'm so glad that you're back. Thank you, thank you, thank you!! You put into words how I've been feeling these past few months. You're made of awesome.

Gena Henrich said...

I'm sorry your fish are dead.

Danielle Dennis said...

Sounds a lot like my bout with depression. The funny part? At one point, I decided to fuck what everyone else/society thought and just bask in it all -- the emptiness, the anger, whatever stage I was in at the time. And all of a sudden, I saw my own corn. And then it was an apple core next to the garbage can. And then it was a kitten, a sunset, and then FINALLY the people I love. Let the little things bring you back -- they will if you keep your eyes open. You may never feel this rawness again and it's making you who you are, whether you like it or not. So keep your eyes open!

Sending you love, girl. Your honesty is unbelievably admirable.

Anonymous said...

Allie, I could've written parts of this post. Esp. the part about wishing nothing loved me so I could stop existing. I was and still am often comforted by the thought that I can just stop whenever I want. Being comforted by a thought of suicide isn't normal, I know, but it's how I feel and weirdly, it gets me through the roughest parts 'til I feel a little better.
I hope you get better and better. I hope your depression goes away and never ever returns.
It may not mean anything to you right now, but you matter to a lot of people. We may not know you but we care about you.
I've never been grateful for a spilled piece of corn before today.
Peace and love to you.

fishswishes said...

welcome back :)

Julie A. said...

Oh, I've been so worried - which is probably creepy coming from a complete stranger, especially because you're going to get a million comments just like this one. I'm so happy that maybe everything isn't all hopeless bullshit for you. Very, very happy. And slightly weepy, too. :,)

Unknown said...

Allie, you're so amazing and the stories on your blog is definitely on my not-hopeless-bullshit list.

Anonymous said...

Allie! So happy you're back! :D

Brenda from Flatbush said...

Thank you, dear and gifted one. So very glad you're back.

Unknown said...

YAAAY ALLIE BACK!
As me and my GF both have depression ourselves and I take meds and hers... goes up and down (she tries to get over it herself) we both have to say it's the best (and funniest) depiction of depression we have ever seen. *throws dead fish at everyone*

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