Mild Depression Passing Through My Brain

I had intended my first post about depression to be a well-crafted, elegant and inspiring essay on my struggles with the bastard.  I recently read Jenny Lawson’s books – Let’s Pretend This Never Happened (A Mostly True Memoir) and Furiously Happy: A Funny Book About Horrible Things. You must read these if you struggle with any type of mental illness or know someone who does.  Or even if you don’t. Just read them.

I read them both on vacation and I felt liberated and inspired and I thought, “I should blog about stuff like this! If I can help even one person then it’s totally worth it!”

I have written and rewritten this phantom post numerous times in my head. Not prepared to write anything down until it was perfect. Or, if I’m honest with myself, too scared to start writing because it’s terrifying to say some things out loud and to risk having people you know (or slightly know, or work with, or met once, or might meet) see your weakness.  Because that’s how it feels as I sit here today and write this.

Today I am losing.

A lot of days I win and I go on with life. I go to work, I exercise, I shower!

This week I was sneak attacked. Just a small one, but enough to keep me home from work and to fill my head with bad thoughts about people and things I love. I hate that. It’s like there’s a demon in my head telling me lies about life and stopping me from seeing how beautiful it is and how wonderful some people are.

I made it to work today, but that’s because my fear of disappointing people gave me the strength to get out of bed and go. Inspiring, I know.

I’m sitting here with a pain in my right side that I’ve had on and off since May. Ultrasounds, CT Scans, Colonoscopy … all normal. I did my own research and found something I think could be the cause and my Doctor agrees. Sadly, there’s not much we can do about it.

Eating better might help with the pain. So yesterday I had pizza. Now I’m in pain and I hate myself for being weak and not being able to do simple things that come so easy to other people. And the depression whispers to me the whole time that I’ll never make the changes I want. My health will never improve. Everything will be a struggle. Might as well just go back to bed and ignore the world.

One thing Jenny Lawson wrote that stuck with me is that depression lies. I had never looked at it that way before. It always felt like depression was a window into my darkest self and laid all that shit bare for me to see and be hopeless about. But no, it lies! It’s true! She’s right and it lies and reading that made me so happy because I felt like I had a new tool to fight this asshole thing that tries to ruin me on a regular basis.

I’m trying to remember that today. I will get through it. I should go home and exercise. Don’t let it win!

I feel better for writing this. Maybe if I talk about it, it takes away some of its power. Eff you, depression demon!

Maybe by the end of today I will win.

Cat & Mouse & Me!


It was a sunny afternoon.  The cats were in the backyard, enjoying some outside time and I was on the couch contemplating life, the universe and everything … or watching Netflix .. whatever!

This is outside time in style.

This is outside time in style.

I looked up when I noticed Polly come running down the hall, and saw something strange.  She was holding something quite large in her mouth.

Look at the picture! Polly is the one in the chair.  She’s soft and meek and sweet and adorable I tell you!

I got up and walked toward her and saw that she had a big, brown mouse in her mouth!  It was big enough to be hanging over both sides of her mouth! Eeek!

I walked toward her and that’s when it happened.  The mouse moved!

She hadn’t even killed it!

I would like to say that I kept my cool and quietly ushered Polly and the mouse back into the yard where it would be set free.  I would like to say that but it would be a damn, dirty lie!


I never said I’d be good in an emergency!

Polly started freaking out, can’t think why, and headed for the stairs.  The stairs!  That lead up to my bedroom. Where I sleep!  MOUSE FREE!

She got about 5 steps up and I decided it was time to stop freaking out. I went back into the living room, did some deep breathing and told myself to stop freaking out. Totally nailed it.

Back to the stairs I went, all calm and serene. I talked to Polly in my high-pitched, I-love-cats voice and she calmed down and stopped going upstairs. Success!

Drawback – she dropped the mouse. Onto the stairs. The live, gigantic mouse.

By this time Abby had made her way onto the stairs as well. She was likely drawn to the fracas by my screaming. So nosy!

Abby a.k.a. Nosy Parker

Abby a.k.a. Nosy Parker

Eric had also been drawn to the noise … finally!  Sheesh! I could have been dying of mouse inflicted bites by then.

Now that the mouse was loose I knew I had to catch it. I had noticed that its sides were all wet and I thought it was covered in blood and now there would be mouse blood all over my house! I hate housework so something had to be done.

I approached stealthily up the stairs.  The mouse ran past Abby and right off the end of the stair and on to the floor.

It was at this point that my calm and serene facade started to crack a wee bit.

Eric was standing in the hallway and I asked him nicely to bring me something I could catch the mouse in.  My exact words,


He was understandably confused.  Why a bucket?  There’s a mouse loose in the house and you want a bucket?  Are you going to do some mopping?

Let’s take a short break here while I explain why I required a bucket.  When there is a wasp loose in the house, I gently catch it in a cup, use a piece of paper to cover the opening and then set it free outside.  No one gets hurt! Everyone wins!

Now, I didn’t really want to catch a mouse in a cup because no amount of washing would ever make that cup usable again and the mouse was quite a bit bigger than a wasp and I didn’t think it would even fit into a cup. So my frantic brain took the next logical step and called for a bucket. Perfectly sound thinking!

Back to the story … Mouse, Eric, bucket! Once he realized what I was trying to do Eric brought me a box. I had to work with the tools available. It was no bucket, but I persevered!

I put the box over the mouse and Eric brought me a flat piece of cardboard to put under it. I scooped it up and ran outside.

I flipped the box over because I had to check on the mouse. If its legs were broken or it was close to dying or something then I couldn’t just put it outside. Eric would have to end its life humanely and then we’d have a funeral.

I took off the cover and there was wee mousey.  Scared and covered in … drool. Polly hadn’t even punctured its skin. She’s all teeth and claws but she brought a mouse into my house and did nothing more than drool all over it. Weirdo!

Mousey’s legs were working and he was blood free and the drool would dry eventually so off into the garden he went. Psychologically scarred for life.

This is Polly. Mighty Hunter!

This is Polly. Mighty Hunter!

The End


It was a few weeks later.  Once again the cats were in the backyard, enjoying some outside time and I was on the couch working on my Autobiography … or watching Netflix .. don’t judge me!

Polly ran in, mouse free, meeped at me and then ran back out.

I got up and went to the back door to see what the meeps were about and there, lying on the patio stone, was another mouse. Dead this time. For reals. Gross!

I thanked Polly for the gift and went back to my important business.

Later on I scooped up the dead mouse into an old Timmy’s cup and put it on the BBQ. The lid was on, what do you want from me?

I figured I should throw it in the garbage, but the cup was as far as I could get that day.

The next day I went out to get the cup and dispose of it but it had moved.

It was on the ground. Lid off. Mouse gone.

The mouse was dead, people. I know that for sure. So something out there in my backyard likes to eat day old dead, coffee smelling mice!

I’m never going out there again!

The End