Get Out of Bed: the Depressed Olympics

You know how sometimes you have a nervous breakdown? Okay, not a nervous breakdown. My friend had one of those. Okay two friends. Okay a few friends. Boy my friends are nuts. Well who isn't?

Call it a Practice Nervous Breakdown then. I haven't been posting much lately. I would love to tell you it is because of my secret life as a Russian spy but honestly, who's going to believe me? I don't even speak Russian. I will tell you my secret though, if you promise not to tell.

I am training for the Depressed Olympics. This is going to be the best Olympics ever, hosted not in one country but in 90 countries (are there 90 countries in the world? I hope so or I'm going to have to make up some countries). Because each ATHLETE is going to be competing from the comfort of their own bed. Or ward. Whatever the case may be, depending upon how "professional" the nervous breakdown.

Here is my new diet and exercise plan to prepare for the Olympics:

Drink Liquor and Eat Crap Until You Hate Yourself More Than You Love Your Bed. 

That's it. That's my plan right there. So far it. is. work-ing.

This Olympics is going to be full of people who play the victim all the time, who blame everything on everyone else, and who think somehow their circumstances are the worst ever. There's going to be a lot of alcohol, a lot of whining, and a lot of unshaven stubble, mumu-wearing, dirty-sock ridden, loud-sighing, athletic talent.

The Depression Run: Hunched shoulders earns bonus points, as do personal rain clouds, going the wrong way because you can never do anything right, mid-run fetal position breaks, flat out collapsing, and ruining other people's moods.

Participants will be judged on tone, tears, and commitment, among other skills. You gotta have follow-through. For example, your non-depressed friend cheerfully says:

Why don't you just come out dancing with us? You need to get out of the house.

5 points for kicking them in the shins, 10 points for fastest person to pull the comforter back over their heads, 15 points for starting to cry again, 20 points for snapping at them with snark and shittiness, and 25 points for loud sighs in combination with any of the previous gestures. 0 points for pretending to get out of bed and then canceling. No ruses just commit to the depression.

This is going to be like that one time where I got all depressed about where I live because no one in the grocery store knew what an artichoke is and then I walked by a 10 year old girl with one leg and mentally kicked myself in the face for being a horrible person. Or when I justified my pack a day smoking habit to help my stress to my little brother who is losing the ability to walk and has never once complained about his stress. Or this morning when I grumpily begrudged my entire state's propensity for wind - for constantly blowing my patio furniture and newly planted flowers all across the yard - and then remembered that Afghani women sometimes get their noses chopped off for looking at a man the wrong way.

You see there are people who struggle with depression, and there are people who succumb to it like a weak-minded politician handed a boat-load of cash, ego-stroking, and pant-suit collections. And by succumb to it I mean they wear it as their identity. Like WHEATIES, they are a proud sponsor of the Olympics.

You have some serious competition here folks

However, you have to be careful! 3 things that are a sure-fire way to disqualify yourself from the Olympics:

1. Get the &%#! Out of Bed!
Yes, your bed loves you. You're really good at laying in a fetal position for days on end. With the magical power of Internetz and the Goddess Netflix, you actually have laid the groundwork here for your Olympic debut with your tremendous staying-in-bed-crying power. No one can do this better than you. Make sure the blinds are closed too. Empty beer bottles and dried up kleenex wads are sexy, don't let anyone tell you different. You're well on your way to being eaten by your own cats because you'll die alone and no one will notice and your cats are so fat they are going to seriously weigh how much they love you against how much you taste like chicken.

2. Take a $%)@#! Shower!
You look good. You smell good too. That is you, right? You haven't had a liverwurst & onion sandwich or anything lately? Well you smell great. And what's that in your hair? Is that a new conditioner? See how interesting your hair is after not showering for three days? I'm glad you got rid of that luster and shine. That was annoyingly healthy looking. You could totally be an extra on Law & Order. You know that one about the homeless people who got assaulted? You could walk right into that role. Think about it.

3. Shut the (*&# Up!
I can't even believe how hard you have it right now. All the things? So many things. I mean, the things. The things you are going through. It's like the hardest experience ever. No one can even understand how much pain you are in right now. It does seem like you can never catch a break. I agree, the universe personally hates you. I saw her passing notes about you in the hall to the galaxy and you know what haters they are. Fate and Destiny probably hate you too, I mean not for-sures but maybe just to fit in with the others? Don't take it personally. God hates you too. But you know what? Who needs anyone? I mean look how much your bed loves you. You can't really be expected to do anything to fix your situation. You should tell more people about how hard you have it. Don't bother asking about them or doing things for other people. You're actually the only one hurting right now. Also? That's why they make soup for 1. Pity parties for 1 are the best parties. Just trust me on this.

So whatever you do, stay in bed, don't shower, and keep moaning. It's totally helping your chances of getting an Olympic medal. Go for gold baby, you can do it!!

Depression is a stink bug and sometimes life sucks. I'm no doctor, I just play one in my former career. But I think depression is muted rage. Healing the hurt, fixing the problems, and doing something about it is a sure fire way to fight depression, and thus eliminate yourself from Olympic consideration, and who wants that?

We all get a couple of free passes to try out for the Olympics, that's for sure. Depression and anxiety are no joke, and more than just the blues. People handle it differently. But sometimes the best thing to do for yourself and for others is not to dwell or to hide it, or blame the world, but just to get the fuck out of bed. Be nice to yourself, but be nice to others. Cry your heart out, and then get the fuck up. Instead of complaining? Do something creative, do something kind for someone that is 100% not you. Make a plan, and get yourself anywhere but the damned Depressed Olympics. Do what you gotta do.

This is what I had to do.


Remember: the German judges are always the meanest. Flirt with the Canadians. They can't help but be nice. They live really far apart and need friends

I am glad I have crazy friends. They know how to keep me out of they Olympics. Being sad doesn't mean being a victim. It's time to get the &@#& out of bed. Also, my cat seems really sad I showered. And that's never a good sign.