Depression Can Be Funny.

How else was I going to get your attention?

But actually, it's true. Depression can be funny. It's all in the crafting, the timing, the crying...

With a little creative thinking, depression need not be the near suicidal adventure that so many define it to be.

Am I making light of such a serious condition? Hell no. I get depressed a lot. I don't know if I would toss myself into a support group and call myself a hopeless wreck, but yeah, I know depression.

I know depression. I also know the pain of loss, the anxious feelings that worry produces and I know what having weight issues means. (I like that term, "weight issues." That's a nice way of saying "I'm carrying a few extra pounds" without the world assuming that I'm a hopeless tub of lard. (I'm not.)

Depression. Loss. Weight issues. Not necessarily in that order. That would be like the chicken or the egg question. Why bother? It just is what it is and it manifests itself in various ways in different orders and there is no rhyme or reason. Currently, meaning today, I would have to say the order is weight issues, loss, then depression. Six months ago it was Loss, depression, then the weight thing. Sometimes it's three of one and none of the other.

Exasperated with me yet? Good. I got your attention.

I woke up this morning craving waffles with lots of butter and syrup. I would say today the weight issue wins, hands down. Last night before I went to bed I was thinking about my mom who died six months ago. Loss. Loss and the pain of it. Went to sleep, had dreams I don't remember this morning and now I want waffles with butter and syrup on them. Am I depressed? Not yet. But I bet I will be if and after I eat the waffles. See how that works?

Did I mention I lost my job back in March? Almost exactly one month after I lost my mom. Talk about a double whammy. And the very next day after I lost my job my health insurance went belly up, too. Well, that was to be expected. It's a good thing I didn't keel over of a heart attack after hearing the news that I lost my job because there wouldn't have been any health insurance to cover such a catastrophe the next day. I would've had to have the heart attack within the same 24 hour period as finding out I lost my job in order for the heart attack to be covered. Having the heart attack after the insurance was cancelled would've probably just killed me and then I wouldn't be here writing about this today.

Still with me? Want to smack me yet?

So there is this saying, "That which does not kill us makes us stronger." I never understood what that meant until I lost my mom, my job and my health insurance all in one fell swoop. And don't let anyone else tell you that they "know how you feel." They may relate and empathize, but each experience is unique to the individual who is experiencing it. What if your mom died and you were never close to her? What if you had a tumultuous relationship with her? What if you lost a job you hated anyway? What if you had a spouse who had better insurance than the policy you just lost? See? There are conditions.

Notice I didn't throw the weight issue in any of that. Don't worry. It's there.

Okay. Now.

It would be convenient for me to say that I gained all my weight because I quit smoking. Then people would feel sorry for me. "Oh, well, at least she quit smoking. It's okay that she gained a few extra pounds." The thing I leave out these days is that I quit smoking for good in 1991. It's 2010. That's like blaming the speeding ticket you got last week on your high school driver's ed. teacher.

The other excuse I use a lot is, "Oh I just woke up one morning and was fat." Uh, no. That's not true, either. It takes a long time to get fat just as much as it takes a long time to lose the fat once it's parked itself on various parts of your body. The only difference is that gaining the fat isn't noticed because while it's happening you're eating fun foods that taste good going down and you're not thinking of consequences. "Oh, that third slice of pie was so good....hey, I can't fasten my jeans! Oh so what. The ice cream on the pie was wonderful..." Or something like that.

I'm a big fan of comfort food. Give me a bowl of Mac and Cheese and a big slice of French Bread on a cloudy day and I'm a happy woman. For awhile.

I ate a lot of Mac and Cheese right after my mom died. And I didn't really know why. I just ate it. Lots of it. It made me feel warm and fuzzy inside. It helped me deal with the pain of loss and the depression. It didn't do a thing for my cholesterol levels, but it did make me feel warm and fuzzy inside. I can't stress that enough.

What does any of this have to do with depression being funny? And how does it all relate to the pain of loss? And what about that weight issue again? Really?

If you're reading this and you don't have at least one of the above maladies invading your life from time to time, then this is probably not the blog for you. You'd best be reading the Huffington Post, PerezHilton.com or one of a million other blogs out there. And they are out there.

So why don't I just call this blog "Depression, Loss and Weight Issues?" Well, first of all that's a boring ass title. Would you seek out a blog called "Depression, Loss and Weight Issues?" I wouldn't.

But yet, you might if it wasn't called that.

I put a lot of thought into my depression, my pain of loss and my weight issues. But these days I refuse to let those three things define me or dictate to me the quality of my life. I want to laugh in the face of depression, I want to accept the pain of loss without letting it kill me inside and I do not want my weight issues to, well, weigh me down.

That which does not kill us makes us stronger.

It is morning on my side of the world. I want coffee. I want waffles. I thought about my mom last night and I haven't weighed myself in a month. I am getting over an upper respiratory infection that I had to go get treated for at a clinic nearby because I no longer have health insurance that would afford me the luxury of going to my regular, favorite doctor whom I adored and respected.

This morning I am definitely going to have my coffee because it's my last addiction and I will not give it up ever, even if they say it's going to turn me into a haggard prune tomorrow. I probably will make waffles because I want them. I will think about my mom at least once or twice today. I'll have an up and I'll have a down. Maybe I will laugh a couple times. Maybe something will move me to tears. And being that I have an upper respiratory infection, I will probably cough really hard if I laugh and wheeze uncontrollably if I cry today. You never know.

I will curse the company that cost me my job back in March. I will watch something frivolous and unnecessary on TV, or not. I might take a walk, or not. I might call a friend, or not. I might read a book, or not. I might write some more, or not. I might overeat, or not. I might do this, I might do that.

Or not.

Depression, Loss and Weight Issues. Not necessarily in that order and not necessarily all in the same day.

But those are the three biggies. You can come along for the ride or you can stay home. Don't much matter to me.

I think at the end of the day you will decide to come along with me for the ride. Just because you're curious.

I'm a pretty good driver.

That which does not kill us makes us stronger.

Well, let's test that theory, shall we?

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