Depression, Hummus, Etc.
Originally published in Synthesis Weekly: July 2012
Depression is a funny thing… it’s nearly always unexpected, creeping up on you like a fog. It sneaks in, infiltrates your brain with its spindly fingers, and infects every thought you might have for the next twenty-four (at least) hours. For me it usually hits in the middle of social gatherings. If I’m lucky they’re taking place at a gathering at my house, so I at least have the luxury of escaping to my own room to write lists of things I like (lists are soothing), or . However, if this is the case, I run the risk of being that weird roommate who hides out in their room during social functions at their house, and only comes out to use getting more water as a guise to dip my toes into the social experience of a party. (see also: socially inept weirdo).
Anyway, the point is, I get depressed, kind of a lot. And usually when it occurs, it does so at the worst possible time. Like a family gathering, or in the middle Duffy’s on a Saturday night. I’ll be sitting there, totally fine, and all of a sudden a disturbingly potent black cloud rolls up over my head. It’s kind of like every commercial you’ve ever seen for a depression prescription medication, except without the creepy voiceovers. And then I have to go hide. Sometimes I can ignore my own faltering mental state long enough to fire off some inappropriate quips that’ll leave people wondering who the shitass let me out in public, but usually it sets its hooks in so quickly that I barely have time to count my lucky insecure stars I wasn’t in the middle of a job interview or some other fairly important setting when it happened, and then it’s in me. Forcing me to stare blankly at my ceiling and cry intermittently between episodes of Bored To Death and bags of rice crackers and hummus.
Speaking of depression, I bet if Tom Cruise were a human being and not a total weirdo, tiny, freak of nature who giggles incessantly in the creepiest manner possible, he’d probably be pretty blue right about now. Katie Holmes seems to have wrestled control of her brain back from the Mandalorians, or whoever the hell Scientologists believe in. Apparently the last straw for her was when Tom wanted to send Suri to a Scientology compound where beatings and forced labor are regular occurrences, and they have two trailers that are referred to as “the hole”. Well good for her, at least she gets to wear heels again and she got a beautiful, (although insanely spoiled) baby out of the mix. I heard a rumor recently that Tom Cruise was shopping around a five-year marriage contract to a number of Hollywood starlets, maybe Katie was the only one naïve and idealistic enough to buy into it. Or maybe she really was in love with him. Who cares really, everything sucks. Someone bring me some goddamn hummus.