depression, emotions, Song Lyrics


I am not a great friend to most people. I am A LOT. And I know that. I frequently cancel plans at the last minute. I struggle with committing to plans. I don’t reach out enough and I am not good at consoling or pampering others. I get it. Yet again, I’m unfriended.

It hurts when people unfriend me, but in a way similar to my knees hurting. I am so used to it, that it just feels normal.

I don’t want people to unfriend me, but I don’t expect them to put up with me either. I have great energy and limitless kindness, but I really am a lot. My depression takes me through dark tunnels and sunny days while rain comes up from the ground.

If you need constant attention, do not look to me. Well, unless you are a hot man that wants to be worshipped. :O

And just like that I am off on the sexual comments. See? A LOT.

As the great Cyndi Lauper crooned (obviously out of context):

Don’t call me in the middle of the night no more
I don’t want to be your friend
Don’t think that it will be the way it was before
I don’t want to be your friend…
Don’t expect me to be there
‘Cuz I don’t wanna be your friend

Cyndi Lauper – I don’t want to be your friend

depression, emotions, Song Lyrics


Depression lies. That’s the truth.

I have a song stuck in my head. The song is Flowers by Miley Cyrus. I am not a huge fan of Miley Cyrus, but she puts out some hits that I love. This song is one of her best, and definitely one of her first “adult” hits. Her voice, her image… she has transformed like a butterfly. Hannah who?

People with depression go through periods where the don’t feel wanted or needed. They feel like they can’t love or be loved. This song shows us how to love ourselves again. The song shows us that we don’t need other people. We only need ourselves.

Flowers by Miley Cyrus:

I can buy myself flowers
Write my name in the sand
Talk to myself for hours
Say things you don’t understand
I can take myself dancing
And I can hold my own hand
Yeah, I can love me better than you can

Can love me better
I can love me better, baby
Can love me better
I can love me better, baby

Paint my nails, cherry red
Match the roses that you left
No remorse, no regret
I forgive every word you said

So buy yourself flowers and hold your own hand. Dance like the world isn’t watching and laugh at the ridiculous. You’ve got this. I have this.

depression, Song Lyrics


It’s time for a flashback song.

I’ll kiss you!

The gypsy told me that the first thing
That would happen you get dizzy
Second thing you better make sure
That your boyfriend isn’t busy
Cause you won’t wanna eat
And you won’t wanna drink
You won’t wanna talk
And you won’t wanna think
My mother used to tell me not to
Kiss on this first date
This time when I see you, you
Know I ain’t gonna wait!
I’ll Kiss you
Gonna corner you and not let you go
I’ll Kiss you

depression, emotions


I know the last week has been a little bit dark on here. Just keep in mind that if I am on here confessing and putting my struggles onto paper (so to speak) that means I am doing well. Maybe even great.

Confessing my struggles is a way of purging the negativity out of my head. When I am struggling the most, I tend to withdraw and hide. I tend to avoid most things, especially outside interactions.

If reading about my struggles is hard or painful for you, please stop reading. I am here to make my world, and the world at large, a better place. Sometimes that means opening the oven door and letting the cockroaches out.

This blog is meant to be comforting and informative. Not painful. Not scary.

depression, emotions, Motivation


I have a confession to make. I was 16 years old when I tried to commit suicide for the first time. It wasn’t about being gay, it was about belonging. Most of you won’t get this since you haven’t worked with old school phones, but sometimes when you hang those up, they don’t fully hang up. And you can still hear what the people on the other side are talking about. The old school landlines were like a portal. You had to actively and definitively cut the connection or it would stay open.

I have never repeated this story. I don’t think anyone knows about this. My best friend in high school went to visit another close friend of his. We talked on the phone at some point, but when he hung up the phone, the connection wasn’t severed. As I held the receiver to my phone, I heard them talking about how annoying it was to be friends with me. How clingy I am. And it kept going.

An hour later I took 200 Tylenol pills. I was done. I was ready to try something different. I didn’t want to be a burden or an embarrassment.

That was the first time that I tried to end my life, but it wasn’t the last. Depression is sneaky and angry and constant. No one likes me. Everyone is laughing at me. Those people over there are talking about me. I’m too poor to have pants that fit correctly. My hair is stupid. I’m awkward. Am I one of those homosexuals?

Depression lies.

Depression lies.

Depression lies.

I never recovered from that phone call. It just got worse. And worse. I fumbled with recovery. I forced myself into people’s lives to show them that I was fun, I was a good guy. I wasn’t a bad person. I pushed to be accepted with people that just didn’t want to take me on.

That was the beginning of my suicide attempts, but it wasn’t the end. It was also the beginning of my struggle to figure out who I was and what I wanted to be. It took several attempts and an act of love to break me out of that cycle.

I have a confession to make. I have never told anyone this story. My heart breaks for the 16 year old me laying in the grass, throwing up as the Tylenol made it’s way through my system. I have never told anyone that my best friend came home and kicked me out of his life because of my failure and struggle. I learned early on that people are incapable of understanding the effects of depression.

I have a confession to make. I suffer from major depressive disorder. I am not normal. I am not fine. But I am okay. And I am thriving.

depression, emotions, Motivation, Song Lyrics


I have a confession to make. I have major depressive disorder. Just kidding. I mean, I do, but you should know that by now. My last post was a bit frightening. I try to keep my posts PG-13, but sometimes I need people to understand the R rated version of my illness. Last night was one of those times.

When I see a celebrity or famous person having major struggles with depression, it makes me lose hope. These people literally have thousands or millions of people that would drop everything to help them and yet, they aren’t necessarily in a better place than me. When this happens, I typically get triggered. But it also makes me think, will honest conversations about depression and suicidal thoughts alienate us?

Celebrity suicides and mental health struggles are a frightener for me. It always makes me question myself and my hope.

With that said, I’m going to leave you with a chuckle. I always thought Chris Isaak was singing “No I, don’t want to fall in love, with you”. I could not have been more wrong.



Depression is a dark and scary place. If you read my posts, you know that. Or you should. I often hear the phrase “if you need help, reach out”. I don’t want to laugh, but, well, here we are.

People that don’t have major depressive disorder just don’t understand it. They don’t understand the daily grind of my mind. Just like I don’t fully understand being diabetic or having fibromyalgia. It really is hard to understand things that are so far outside of “normal”.

Suicide is not a stranger for me. My first bout was in high school. People didn’t like me. I overhead my two best friends talking about how annoying I was and exhausting.

Later in life, it was drunken mistakes that left me humiliated. Did I really do that? Why would I do that/ I lost a close friend to that before I was even legally able to drink.

How do you tell someone that you are having suicidal thoughts? Like, yo, dude, my brain says we shouldn’t be here anymore. What are your thoughts on that? Or, yo, dudette, can you believe that I did that? My brain is ready to check out..

If I call you and say, I am struggling with suicidal thoughts… that permanently changes everything. Whether you want it to or not. So are you really there for anything?

When your depression is strong, you burn through friends quickly. They want to be there for you, but it is not easy. It’s not easy at all.

anxiety, depression, emotions, Sleep


Dreams are very strange things. Most nights I do not remember anything. Sometimes I will have a vague recollection that fades over the first couple of morning hours. Lately, though, I have been having very vivid dreams two to three times a week that feel like memories. In some, I vividly remember sensations like flying or running or screaming. Almost like my body is remembering it. In others, the dream is a full on memory lodged in my head.

There are days that I think I would willing go into the Matrix if it meant I could control the dream and the reality. Like having sex with Jensen Ackles or Chris Evans on the monthly. Being able to travel the world and experience new things without my anxiety tripping me up. Having normal mental energy and extra spoons (see the spoon theory).

Outside of the Matrix scenario, I do feel like sleeping more. It’s harder to make myself get out of bed in the morning. I have started sleeping past 10am again. I have slept through my alarm a couple of times. I don’t know if it’s my depression creeping up on my rearview or if my mind just likes the dream world better. Because let me tell you, some of those vivid dreams that are locked in like memories are spicier than Chris Evans doing a screen record live on Instagram.

And with that, let’s get some music going.

“Sweet dreams are made of these…”

anxiety, depression, emotions


A rose by any other name would smell as sweat. Would clinical depression or major depressive disorder by any other name smell as sour? I have never been a huge fan of the term “major depressive disorder”. Is there a “minor depressive disorder”? Is there a “depressive order”? And what about anxiety? What the hell does “social anxiety” mean? When I am in bed, alone, lights off and my anxiety kicks in, does that mean there are ghosts and spirits that are trying to socialize with me? What does the social part have to do with anything?

I want new names. Depression should have degrees or stages. For example, instead of major depressive disorder, we could have Messy Brain stage 5. Chaos in the Mind to the 5th degree. What about mind melt phase 5? Dark and Cloudy in the Head for 500.

Depression means different things at different times. Being sad is the most common symptom that I have from day to day. Being anxious isn’t the major cause of my anxiety. We need to move away from literal names for mental disorders/diseases. I’m not sure if we need broader terms or more specific terms. How can we ever expect people to take mental health seriously when we use common terms that apply to people without mental health issues?



I don’t like the words “disabled” or “disability” when it applies to depression. My brain rejects the descriptors as if I am giving in. If I am disabled, does that mean that the depression has won? If I am not, does that mean my depression isn’t real?

We have a new group at work that is designed to support people with disabilities. There are people with moderate to severe physical disabilities that clearly need accommodations at work. The obvious options are ramps, elevators, adjustable desks, and such.

There is a new push, however, to include mental disabilities in the same category and this rubs me the wrong way. I almost feel like I am that person with the “emotional support” dog that barks and pees everywhere. Or the people that pretend they have a service dog, since businesses can’t really ask too many questions.

Should mental disabilities like depression and anxiety be given accommodations at work like physical ones? What would those be? Can they put me in a cubicle outside, so I have the sunlight? Can I request an enclosed cubicle so that the annoying person singing doesn’t distract me? What exactly is the benefit of including depression and anxiety in workplace accommodations for people with disabilities?

And most importantly, does adding mental disabilities take away from the benefits that people with physical disabilities get?