Depression is all in the mind...

I think we have just moved way too far up Maslow's Heirarchy and have way, way too much time on our hands. All of a sudden we get to lookin' round and we're sitting up there on that pinnacle and we're bored. Or we have more stuff than we need and we've reached those goals or just quit bothering to set them and we get to thinking we're depressed. Some of us are brung up thinking we've got to have more, more, more and we can never live up to those expectations that are slammed in our face every time we open a magazine or turn on the boob-tube. We get depressed 'cause we're never going to get there.

It's all just a bunch of hullabaloo. I think the drug companies like to make us think we just gotta be happy all the time. Well durn it, life has ups and downs. We can't always walk around with a big ol' smile plastered on our face and be happy. It just ain't life.

These people in this country want to know what's depressing they oughta go live in Africa or some other country for a while and they'll figure out real quick what depression is all about.

We get depressed if we don't have two tv's and three cars.

I figured out a long long time ago that I could walk through life feeling poor me-like or I could decide to be happy. Being depressed is darned addictive. It's great to sit around and feel sorry for yourself. Especially if you get in one of those groups that helps you, or so they say. You sit around telling each other how bad you feel and pretty soon you get to enjoyin' feeling that bad and you don't even realize it.

When I was young and I'd start getting down in the mouth and feeling bored and pitiful my Mama would hand me a broom and tell me to go sweep the back porch. I think we need to get these depressed people to find something to do to help somebody else and they'll start to feeling pretty good about their own situation. Go down to the homeless shelter and help feed people once a week for about six months and you'll find out just how happy you can be.

Guess what gals? I'm back! I've missed you all but I sure haven't been depressed for one single day.

Miss Faye

D is for

Hey Girls,

I've been taking a little Vulcation (like my newly-minted word?) this
morning: been cruising the internet reading blogs written by other
gals (so much so I have a cramp in my right elbow), and I notice 2
things:

1. These gals are GOOD wordslingers.
2. These gals are depressed.

Now let me just stop right here and say for the record: it's not just
females who are depressed. There seems to be a veritable epidemic of
depression these days. Seems like everybody I know or am related to or
both is at least a little on the D side of things. Used to be that
being depressed was something you and yours kept quiet, like it was
something to be embarrassed about, something to be ashamed of. That's
not the case now - THANK GOODNESS - and maybe that openness, that
willingness to talk about it will help answer me this: why is it
depression seems to be running absolutely rampant these days? I, being
who I am, want to know WHY. Why so many wonderful, talented, creative,
intelligent, genuinely good people are depressed - not just blue or
sad or down but flat-out depressed.

Is it something physical like we're not getting enough exercise?

Or is it something psychological like we don't have effective coping
skills or maybe we have unreasonable expectations?

Or is it something physiological like our bodies are squirting out too
much of one juice (hormones, neuropeptides, etc.) and/or not enough of
another?

Or (and you both KNEW I'd get to this, didn't you? Go ahead: admit
it.) is it something They put in our parents' drinking water? Or
something They loaded into those free cigarettes? Or something They
put on the fruit pieces used to mess up perfectly good lunchroom Jell-o?

Girlfriends, if we don't do something about whatever causes
depression, pretty soon those who are not depressed (be that of
natural causes or sheer, unadulterated determination) will be the ones
getting the diagnosis and subsequent pills.

I'm just saying.

Miz Vul

Buried and Forgotten??

Lawdy Miss Etta,

Remember me? Why, I used to come and sit on your porch for our daily talks. I just loved them so. And, I do remember the fine punch you would serve.

Guess you thought I was dead. Dead and buried. Well, I am still kicking, but I have been buried. I'm spending most of my mornings try to dig my way out of all the mail that my good neighbor has been sending. How many good neighbors are there around here? Way too many, I think. And don't they know that filling my mailbox with the same letter from several of them a day is the best way to make sure I don't spend any of my precious coins at their doorstep?

Of course, I have to wonder if you have been getting all those letters?

Hope to hear from you soon,
Georgia gal