Ginger,

*kisses*

So, I guess I am heading back over to the Web site to put a cherry on the sundae of my argument.

Hyperbole and a half's Depression Part Two

That, um, sounds a bit too familiar. Except I have absolutely no problem with being bright and shiny for the masses.

I just read Hyperbole and a Half. It was weirdly reassuring and terrifying, how well I understand everything she said. The dead fish really got me. Did you see there are 5,000 comments? Amazing.

Her post is oh so valuable. Not just because it resonates with people, but because it does a damn fine job of explaining to folks who have not been there what it is like. I've been depressed, but nothing ever like that. It never occurred to me that coming out the other side, your brain would be overloaded with learning to feel and process emotion. What she described reminds me a lot of watching toddlers when they flip out. They do it because they're just FEELING and cannot regulate or process it. The tools just aren't there yet.

ION, I took fake sudafed this morning because I just couldn't stand the chest tightness and real sudafed made me feel so awful last time (grindy joints, anxious, wired, hateful) and it feels like it didn't do anything effective but make me anxious and give me rebound wheezies when it wore off. Swim was ...poor.

Pumpkin is definitely becoming the queen bee of the house. She stole a treat from Lokes and he looked affronted but didn't even challenge her. But he was never alpha material, and she certainly is. I think she only deferred to Devi because Dev flat out ignored challengers and wouldn't budge (P hissed at her all.the.time. Devi just stared.)

I do still miss the conversations. The Pumpk has made some forays, but pretty much they both only talk to demand....

That, um, sounds a bit too familiar. Except I have absolutely no problem with being bright and shiny for the masses.

Same here.

I asked Stephen to read it, but it explains depression like that so much better than I ever could.

They do it because they're just FEELING and cannot regulate or process it.

Toddler meltdowns are sort of sad. They're like hair dryers that got dropped in the tub, just pure FRZZZZZTT.

My youngest nephew's tantrums are epic. And they are clearly born of his brain not being able to escape the storm. The last I had to deal with (and deal with my father doing the same OMGKILLMENOW) it was basically stress and exhaustion turned into I WANT ICE CREAM. He couldn't get out of the loop. He just couldn't. He was stuck in despair and need and he couldn't parse any of it. I can't use some of the methods my bro and SIL use, so we ended up in the dark. Counting. Can we get to 1? I want ice cream. Just 1. 1 I want ice cream. OK, we've got one, let's try 2. 1 I want ice cream Let's try 2.

etc. Took a while, but got us to 10 and no more ice cream and talked out his feelings finally.

And then I got us lost in the Aussie boonies in the dark and that totally became the affront of the night he had to detail to his mom (not really, we could backtrack, but I missed the turn back to the house and ended up having to go back to the hotel and ask for a ride.)

The other night on the subway, I sat across from a little girl who couldn't stop hysterically laughing. It was really pretty much the same thing.

And, speaking of kid meltdowns... just about an hour ago I soothed and petted and loved Matilda down from a 20-minute storm of passionate sobbing brought on by my failure to put the headband for her flapper dress for tomorrow's talent show "on right." It turned out that "on right" meant "without making my ears look like they stick out because my ears are very big and look horrible, and I am not pretty and nobody thinks I am because it's true, I really am ugly. I wish I had curly hair like my friend I_____, but I don't and she is beautiful and I am not and everyone knows it."

And then she curled up on the bed in a miserable ball in her red satin flapper dress and wept, and we had a talk about the bad voices out in the world and sometimes in your head that tell you how not-good-enough you are, and how hard it can be to fight them and push back against their lies, and ARGH. She's barely six and a half. How can it be starting already? How can she not know how utterly, heartbreakingly perfect she is? And how can I help her push back when half the time I believe the voices myself?