MetaChat - Crippling depression isn't funny...

Well, that's a load off my mind. All this time I thought you were a sad panda.

posted by Frisbee Girl 11 January | 15:07

Q: How many kids with ADD does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
A: I know! Let's go ride bikes!!!

posted by pieisexactlythree 11 January | 15:07

Fwiw, when I was clinically down for the count, being completely irreverent about it did loads of good for me. Apologies if I stepped on toes.

posted by Frisbee Girl 11 January | 15:08

Nope - the toes thread is back there a ways. This is the weeping panda thread. This has been a life-long condition for me, so it's not something I'm especially touchy about. And, yeah - irreverence is pretty much my stock in trade.

posted by It's Raining Florence Henderson 11 January | 15:16

Crippling depression isn't that funny, but the ass droop that a depresso can get on a pair of sweatpants is pretty charming in that snotty upper lip on a lost kid kind of way.

posted by Divine_Wino 11 January | 15:17

I think it was those damned ADD kids that broke the lightbulb in the first place.

posted by It's Raining Florence Henderson 11 January | 15:17

I'm partial to the Schizophrenic Choir's version of "Do You Hear What I Hear?" myself.

posted by jonmc 11 January | 15:23

No, no, depressives don't screw in light bulbs, they screw in. . . oh. Right.

I can say that because I care. Also because I would probably die if I didn't take lexapro for a couple months out of the year.

posted by mygothlaundry 11 January | 15:24

A depressive walks in to a bar, goes up to the bar, then realizes that he doesn't belong there, and that everyone in the bar can see that, and he'll never have any real friends, and leaves to go home and watch TV.

posted by Capn 11 January | 15:25

I was going to write a "depressive walks into a bar" joke, but then I figured, "Oh, hell - what's the point?"

posted by It's Raining Florence Henderson 11 January | 15:28

Also because I would probably die if I didn't take lexapro for a couple months out of the year.

Am I the last non-medicated person in my age demographic?

posted by jonmc 11 January | 15:28

What's your age demographic?

posted by It's Raining Florence Henderson 11 January | 15:29

well, you do drink alot.

posted by puke & cry 11 January | 15:29

This is one of those posts I should have just bit my lip and not said anything on.

posted by Hugh Janus 11 January | 15:30

jonmc, I love you man, but you're hardly non-medicated.

posted by Frisbee Girl 11 January | 15:30

clowncat is not amused

posted by Wedge 11 January | 15:31

Why, Hugh? It's not like we're declawing one-eyed kittens in here for medical research.

posted by It's Raining Florence Henderson 11 January | 15:31

Okay - not sure if 42 is in your demographic, but I am not medicated.

posted by It's Raining Florence Henderson 11 January | 15:32

What's your age demographic?

35 year old white lower-middle-class male underacheiver

and drinking isn't medication. medication isn't crisp and refreshing and dosen't have ads featuring girls in bikinis.

posted by jonmc 11 January | 15:33

I've got this pain in the diodes all down my left side.

posted by stilicho 11 January | 15:34

and drinking isn't medication. medication isn't crisp and refreshing and dosen't have ads featuring girls in bikinis.

Yet.

posted by Capn 11 January | 15:37

I'm 42 and I'm currently medicated only by cheap beer, cigarettes & black coffee. But I have those Lexapro samples left over from the last time secreted away in my underwear drawer (except for the one the dog ate; didn't seem to affect him at all) and just knowing they're there when I need them - and I will need them, I know that too - is a big help.

It took me a long damn time to finally try medication; I swore for years I wouldn't, didn't need it, this was just the way life was if you were smart & cynical & so on. I bought into that dark bohemian rebel thing fully; I was an outlaw, hell, I was too cool for anti depressants; bourbon & cigarettes & dark humor was my way, die young, live fast and all that stupid ass shit. Now I know better. I don't need it all the time, but oh holy shit, what an amazing difference the right medication can make.

The wrong medication can also make an amazing difference, which is not nearly as much fun.

posted by mygothlaundry 11 January | 15:38

A depressive walks in to a bar, goes up to the bar, then realizes that he doesn't belong there, and that everyone in the bar can see that, and he'll never have any real friends, and leaves to go home and watch TV.

It's funny because it's true! Ahhahaha ha ha...ha.

*crawls under the covers and proceeds to stay in bed for the rest of the day*

posted by kosher_jenny 11 January | 15:38

you forget, MGL, I was medicated for the first time at 6, with Ritalin, and this was in 1977 before they sprinkled it on the breakfast cereal in the cafeteria like they do now. And a few years ago when I was having these weird anxiety attacks, I mentioned it to my family and both my mom and my sister whipped out leftover vials of Xanax. I took it and it seemed to help a bit, but pips said it made me loopy, so I stopped and eventually the anxiety went away when post 9/11, I decided that it was stupid to be scared for no reason. So my history with the chemicals is a little out of the ordianry.

posted by jonmc 11 January | 15:44

Today, you people are my medicine.

Tomorrow, it might be hookers.

posted by It's Raining Florence Henderson 11 January | 15:47

Tomorow, we people might be hookers. Times are tough.

posted by jonmc 11 January | 15:49

Wait, so that means we could always be Flo's medicine.

This is good.

posted by Frisbee Girl 11 January | 15:50

Ask your doctor about MetaFloNase.

posted by It's Raining Florence Henderson 11 January | 15:52

If you want boxer,
I will step in to the ring for you.

If you want another, kind of lover,
I'll wear a mask for you.

posted by Capn 11 January | 15:53

I want some of those drugs with the ads of the girls in bikinis. Since girls in bikinis are pretty much limited to the calendar over my mad-scientist workbench.

posted by warbaby 11 January | 15:53

Wait, so that means we could always be Flo's medicine.

Not me. I'd be a pimp, which would make me his pharmacist.

*walks with a limp*

posted by jonmc 11 January | 15:56

I am totally not medicated jon (except self) but do not front about how much booze is medicine for the dome.

I love all you depressos, I got a bunch in my family, however flavor flavs got problems of his own.

posted by Divine_Wino 11 January | 15:57

I don't want to get into it, flo. Like I said above. Shouldna hit post, sorry. Crippling depression gets me down.

I shouldna clicked on the link, only I didn't think it'd all be jokey, or that the jokes would make me sad. My cousin Tommy, raised by my grandparents, self-medicated with liquor and heroin until last year, when he put a gun in his mouth and solved his crippling depression, with his pregnant girlfriend in the other room. His father did the same when he was a baby, only with no gun, more drugs, and a swimming pool. In my twenties I steered my mother towards help before she could do too much lasting damage to herself (and yeah, she's great now, medicated and that doesn't matter 'cause she's got the most beautiful grandson ever), but now every time I'm in the dumps and glued to my chair for a day I have screaming fears about my own self that I don't bring up with anybody.

Yeah, depression jokes are gonna get to one in every crowd. And I'm sure you now agree, I should've just bit my lip and not said anything. I don't much like crying at work.

I'm a jerk for spoiling the jokes, but hey, it is a crippling depression thread.

posted by Hugh Janus 11 January | 15:59

'Cause I'm a sad clown.

IL PLEUT FLORENCE HENDERSON: CHEVALIER D'ORDRE DES ARTS ET DES LETTRES.

posted by Smart Dalek 11 January | 16:03

*pins medal, kisses both cheeks*

posted by Smart Dalek 11 January | 16:05

Hugh Brother,
The thing is that as far as I can tell, almost everyone here is probably either clinically depressed, undiagnosed or has someone close to the them who is, I prefer the default assumption that the crowd here makes jokes about things because what the fuck else can you do and does it with a pained grin on their faces that it might hurt someone by touching a sore point but better that than bottling it up or ignoring it.

Depression (although I don't count depression amoungst my many maladies and defects) has certainly caused me many problems in my life and I've lost people to it along the way, I've got fuck all to do but laugh about it and everything else that one cannot solve along the way. You know all this so I'm not sure why I'm saying it except to say it, but fuck it I've had my buttons pushed before as well, I guess I can offer my sympathy. Which is odd because I find myself incredibly cold hearted these days.

posted by Divine_Wino 11 January | 16:11

I'm sorry, Hugh. I asked because I don't want to exclude anyone with something serious to share. Your pain certainly doesn't make you a jerk, and I'm truly sorry if I picked that scab for you. Despite my tone, this is a very serious and personal topic for me, too. As noted above, self-directed irreverence is one of my main coping mechanisms. All bullshit aside, I was mostly just looking for a little love on a particularly low day. I'll send a little your way, instead - which, honestly, has always been an even better way to lift my spirits, anyway.

posted by It's Raining Florence Henderson 11 January | 16:13

Yeah, it's not like I'm mad or particularly upset by the jokes, which are funny, or by the posters here, whom I love, but I surprised myself by reading down the comments and then wiping tears from my eyes, then trying to write something in response a half-dozen times before I just deleted everything except the last fragment I wrote, which was that I shouldn't say anything. And than that I actually wanted to explain baffled me too, because I like the other kind of attention more -- the bad attention.

On preview, thanks, flo, and the above applies too.

posted by Hugh Janus 11 January | 16:16

medication isn't crisp and refreshing and dosen't have ads featuring girls in bikinis.

I beg to differ with the girls in bikinis bit. Apparently it's well-known that drug companies hire hot twentysomethings to pimp their medications to doctors. There was a NY Times article on it a couple of months back. Anecdotally, I know of one Pfizer sales-girl whose hotness corroborates this sales tactic.

posted by killdevil 11 January | 16:17

[tip toes out of thread with my zoloft laden brain]

posted by chewatadistance 11 January | 16:18

Hugh, my friend, ace and comedy improv partner: if it makes you feel any better, I'm home in my pajamas because I couldn't face the day at work. I've already smoked my way through the pack of cigarettes I bought at 8:30am and I'm on my second Bud tallboy. I know where your at, bro.

posted by jonmc 11 January | 16:19

ugh, pi has been out of prozac for nearly two weeks due to changing to a new health plan, and it is teh sux!!! Y'all totally have my sympathy.

posted by pieisexactlythree 11 January | 16:28

If you're having a particularly low day, flo, maybe this will lift your spirits.

You know those chocolate-covered cherries Brach's makes for the holidays? Not the dried cherries that are like raisinets, but the cordial cherries with the goopy inside, right?

Well, everyone in my family really likes them, and on Christmas eve, after dinner, my mom brought out a plateful of a variety of cookies. My three-year old nephew had a chocolate one that his mom made, then a petticoat tail my mom made, and then saw that I had skulked into the kitchen and returned with a box of Brach's chocolate-covered cherries.

My nephew had never had one, and wanted one, so he got one, along with all of us telling him to put the whole thing into his mouth before biting down so as not to make a mess. His eyes lit up like the headlights of an Acura TL, and watching his little mouth try to smile while trying to keep the cherry inside was, well, utterly charming.

So after Christmas dinner, when my mom brought out the cookies again, and I skulked out of the kitchen with a now-familiar box in my hand, my nephew asked, "Can I have one of the juicy cookies?"

Ah, loving that kid makes the bad go all googly.

And on preview, jonmc, the physical health days I took last week preclude any mental ones for the time being, but I do know where you're coming from and thanks.

posted by Hugh Janus 11 January | 16:31

Hugh, I deeply respect your feelings and perspective on this matter and how much pain it has dealt you and most unfairly in your life. It sucks. There's no way around that. A familial history of depression and mental illness has similarly dealt me a hand that has cost dearly. Several times the price in consideration was my life/physical well being, to say nothing of longterm psychological impacts.

It sucked. The memories still suck. But, see, here's the thing: for me, personally, I knew if the circumstances ever robbed me of my ability to laugh, of my sense of levity, of being able to recognize the purely human juxtaposed against the truly absurd - if I ever lost that capacity, I knew that meant that the illness had won. And as I've said before, I'm a scrapper: when the battle has been chosen, I don't go down without a fight. So I clung to it and fought for it. Through periods where I did not speak. Through months (years?) of hearing voices. Through a couple decades of waiting for the Devil to leap out from behind every rock and tree.

In the end, it was being able to laugh and being surrounded by those with whom I could share that humor that kept me from leaping off the cliff of crazy. I'm sure this is all TMI, but I hope that you can understand the energy and mindset behind this poking of fun.

Most of all, I hope that you can find your own exit and resolution with healing from the turmoil.

posted by Frisbee Girl 11 January | 16:35

100 milligrams of Zoloft daily, represent. I was off it for a number of months last year, but went on again in August. Believe me, I'm a better person for the lack of that staticky-feedback depression loop clouding my brain.

posted by jokeefe 11 January | 16:35

That did lift my spirits, Hugh - thanks! The youngsters in my family are a constant source of joy for me, too.

posted by It's Raining Florence Henderson 11 January | 16:37

For what it's worth, hanging out with y'all here at metachat's nearly the best substitute I can find for prozac, second only to exercise at the gym.

Oddly, enough, and I wonder if any of you other pill-poppers notice this, but going off the prozac seems to increase my ADD exponentially (I normally cope with it without any medication). It also seems to make me borderline narcoleptic.

posted by pieisexactlythree 11 January | 16:41

*goes out to ride bike, remembers he's at work*

posted by pieisexactlythree 11 January | 16:44

The youngsters in my family are a constant source of joy for me, too.

Youngsters, old people, crazy people, retarded people, the broken and bent of all kinds lift my spirits. I used to think it was because I was the only person who 'understood' them or recognized their humanity. I'm beginning to realize it's because I'm one of them.

22 years after reading it, I'm ffinally getting the central point of Catcher In The Rye.

posted by jonmc 11 January | 16:48

Thanks, Frisbee Girl, I think I have found my way out, but the memories sometimes make me sniffle. Anyway, good friends like you make everything worthwhile, and worthwhileness is what it's all about, right?

And jonmc, I just laughed thinking you might have said:
22 years after reading it, I'm ffinally getting the central point of Ladies Man.

posted by Hugh Janus 11 January | 16:59

Hugh your nephew is golden. Thanks for sharing that, it made me smile.

Once I was at my sister's house and my niece, then about 5, were placing our orders for sandwiches. I yelled into the kitchen for my sister to please cut mine diagonally. Right after, my niece goes, "YEAH CAN YOU CUT MINE DAGALAGGLY TOO?"

As for my zoloft consumption, I went on it about 5 years ago. In a single year,
1. I fell down some stairs at work, chipping a bone and getting several weird puncture woulds requiring stitches, and lots of rehab;
2. I was laid off from job #1, but was able to scramble and secure a position in another dept , same company;
3. my mom died;
4. I was laid off again.

It sucked. I was up nights thinking the same loop, worrying about tiny crap I couldn't do anything about. I tried celexa and it made me the most hysterical idiot you've ever seen. We're talking crying b/c the chapstick is the wrong flavor. So then zoloft came along. I no longer sty up nights grinding about shit, and I'm not nearly as knee jerk and high strung as I used to be. I'm a much happier chewy.

posted by chewatadistance 11 January | 17:04

walk it off

posted by Wedge 11 January | 18:14

Swim it off, over here.
/day 24 of God's new flood

posted by It's Raining Florence Henderson 11 January | 18:17

I won't go into the details right now but I am (a) personally and familially affected by this issue and (b) appreciating the dark humor. And also (c) both sympathetic and grateful to those who have shared their points of view.

posted by matildaben 11 January | 18:42

(longtime lurker, first time commenter)

This is a cool thread and I enjoyed the jokes and I'd just like to add this:

"You know what would make a good story? Something about a clown who makes people happy, but inside he's real sad. Also, he has severe diarrhea."

posted by drjimmy11 11 January | 20:35

Where were all you bunnies back in Spring of 2002 when I needed you? ;-)

Count me in as a fan of ye old depression gallows humor...thanks to God and the lamictal prescription.

posted by bunnyfire 11 January | 20:55

I'm all about pro-meds, my days on Prozac were fantastic - lights were brighter, I had massive amounts of energy, creative and otherwise, and I was insatiable sexually.

posted by Lipstick Thespian 11 January | 21:05

I keep typing and erasing and typing and erasing...

I don't really know what to say except y'all rock. I've been on Effexor for over a year and sometimes it's just not enough.

(((MetaChat)))

posted by deborah 11 January | 21:18

I swear Prozac saved my life.

I used to have serious, crippling, suicidal depressions -- crashes, I called them -- every two years like clockwork, until I got on the Zac for a year. Since then, I haven't had a single crash, but more of a low-grade coming-and-going depression that I have tried to handle without meds. For a while I was using St. John's wort, which I swear helped me, until it became difficult to find (supplement companies don't want to risk a liver lawsuit). I should probably get on something else, to help me work my out of my current hole, which has turned into a crash of a different kind.

Anyhoo. Metachat helps all by its own self.

I ♥ metachat.

posted by stilicho 11 January | 22:08

Hugs to everyone. Big, depression-lifting hugs!

posted by halonine 11 January | 23:31

Allrightiethen, my personal cocktail, which has brought my manic/depressed ass back to life, is Zoloft, Seroquel, and liberal use of Xanax. Wheeee!

It's just good not to be a volcano. And it's great to have my sense of humor back.

LOVED the jokes!

posted by puddinghead 12 January | 02:42

drjimmy11!

btw has anyone here tried light therapy or SAM-e?

posted by Wedge 12 January | 15:07

follow up filter: Since yesterday, I called my old HMO and got a refill to last till the paperwork shows up from the new HMO. Feeling teh better already...

posted by pieisexactlythree 12 January | 15:16

11 January 2006