My depression told me to eat a box of Little Debbie snack cakes

It’s been awhile since I’ve posted.  I could tell you that I’ve been busy with way more important things like baking cookies in the shape of Olivia Newton-John to aid the victims of Hurricane Sandy or teaching homeless kittens to read.

But, I’m a terrible liar.  Actually, I’m not.  But, now you’re not so sure, are you?

Anyway, I find myself engaged in a battle of wills within myself.  My head is telling me a different story than my heart, which has led to low-grade depression (is there any other kind?) and general malaise.  It’s like trying to pull open a door when someone is pulling it shut.  In a word, I’m stuck.  Trapped.  Caught.  Ensnared.

That whole door scenario ended in bloodshed when I was a kid.  My brother was trying to get into the bathroom while I was pulling the door shut.  Our little game of sibling tug-of-war continued until I decided to let go of the door.  My brother’s face slammed into the doorknob, which narrowly missed his eye.  He was fine until he looked into the mirror and saw the blood streaming down his face.  I ran to my room because I was 15 or so and really only concerned about my own well being and ensuing punishment.  I mean Helen Keller got along just fine with no eyes.

So, I’m thinking that this inner game of tug of war can only end badly.

“What is your depression telling you?” my therapist asks.

This is what my depression tells me:

  • Get lots and lots of rest.  Put your feet up.  Take it easy.  Breathing takes a lot out of a person.
  • Use that hood on your hoodie to block out the light.  That’s why God made hoodies.
  • Eat Little Debbie’s Holiday Snack Cakes for they are delicious and only $1.79 for a pack of 10 enrobed cakes.  And, nachos.  Yes, nachos.
  • There’s an eight-hour Shipping Wars marathon on A&E that has your name written all over it.

Ah, the siren song of depression.

In my previous post, I wrote about the No Ceiling Theory.  Basically, this theory stands for the belief that a person can achieve and live without limits.

SapphoSpeaks commented about the No Basement Theory, which she said would allow a person to delve without limit to his or her  inner depths.

Yeah, not too fond of this idea, Sappho.  I mean, you never know what you might find in a basement.

Quick, off-the-top-of-my-head random list of things that reside in our basement: One non-functioning toilet; instruction booklets and warranties for household purchases, many of which we no longer own; mold spores; one rusted out paper cutter and a musty odor that’s resistant to air deodorizers.

Quite frankly, nothing very useful and lots of gross stuff.

So, why make the trip down the rickety stairs.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the whole No Ceilings and No Basement thing.  W says the No Basement thing isn’t that scary because eventually you bottom out when you hit the earth.

I’m not so sure she’s right.  I think that if you do the No Ceilings thing and the No Basement Thing simultaneously you’ll find that the two eventually connect.  Just a big giant cosmic hula-hoop.

But I don’t watch much Big Bang Theory, so I’m not real sure of the physics of it all.

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10 responses to “My depression told me to eat a box of Little Debbie snack cakes

  1. It would be nice if there were neither. Just that middle ground. A well-balanced place. But, life isn’t always nice, is it?

    Hope you feel better soon. In the meantime, Little Debbie’s are cheaper and tastier than extra therapy sessions.

  2. OMG that “door accident” you had, I had almost the exact same one. My little brother was outside and I pulled the screen door shut so he couldn’t get in and his arm went right through the glass. He has a huge scar there today. I just remember all the blood, and my parents grabbing him and rushing him to the hospital.

    I’m sorry you are not feeling so great. Hope you feel better soon.

    • Ouch. I guess it’s a little brother thing. I remember thinking that I was going to be in such huge trouble, but the severity of my brother’s injury voided any punishment. In the end, I think my parents were just happy that he didn’t have to wear an eyepatch. Pirates were not in vogue back in the 80s.

      Feeling better today. Thanks.

  3. I know the old hoodie trick very well. On really bad days there’s a baseball cap to add under it.
    Chin up!

  4. The good thing about the dirt at the bottom of the basement is the more crap there is the more things you can grow in it…

    In other news sofa weeks are really in this season

  5. I’d really love to feed some Little Debbie cakes to my emotions right now. But since it could lead to weight gain they probably won’t make me feel much better 😛

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