I’m just going to start by saying that I know depression is a real thing. I’m not here to knock it... But I will mock it. Please don’t call me Tom Cruise. I hope not to be that big of a douche, but if at the end you still find me terribly offensive, great!! I haven’t gotten any hate mail yet. Savannah@Savvy-Pants.com
Quitting my serious job and deciding to become a “writer” has given me copious amounts of free time the likes of which I haven’t seen since I was a nine year old on summer vacation. I did have to get a part time job to pay rent though, because, let’s face it, even Superman had a day job. But those four hours a day hardly take up much space in my day or give me any reason to get up early.
I figured that since I didn’t have to work until 3:00pm, I could easily sleep in as late as I wanted and still make it to work on time.
Then after getting off of work at 8:00pm I would still have a lot of my night left if I stayed up really late.
We were now ready for the best schedule ever.
I couldn’t sleep in too late of course, I had to spend time writing every day or what was the point of quitting my job? (except I guess to have the schedule of this nine year old on summer vacation)
So after waking up somewhere in the wee hours of 11am, I would (without getting out of bed) write for a few hours on a blog post, a new novel, or in my journal. Finally I’d get up and leave for work, only to return to bed and watch a movie or lounge around doing nothing under the pretense that I “needed to recuperate”.
After about a week of this nonsense I realized I was starting to feel depressed, and lethargic, and totally lame.
I wasn’t confused about my new mood for an instant. I’ve always known that laziness leads to depression, which made me think…
*Now, I’m not a history major (or minor or even a history pay-good-attentioner) but I’m going to take what little knowledge I have and combine it with everything I know from reading The Other Bolin Girl and create some historical malarkey that I will present with such confidence you’ll be fooled into taking it as fact. Ready?
I think depression was “born” way back in the day when princesses with their ladies in waiting, courtiers, duchesses and a whole smattering of other titled folks would sit around all day gossiping and putting on airs.
Before this time, people were out hunting and discovering land and starting war, you know really keeping themselves active. There is no time for depression when you are trying to conquer Spain. But then when Spain was sufficiently married away to France they found so much time on their hands they just didn’t quite know what to do with themselves. This is when they decided to have balls to occupy their time. They also played cards, read poetry, learned to play the mandolin or the harp, and generally found things to amuse themselves with (mostly gossip and having affairs) oh, and learning new whorish ways NOT to sleep with the king.
People were bored in that time and, I’m saying with confidence, depressed. Why do you think Jesters were such a big deal? "Please, make us laugh to forget for a moment how sad and pathetic we are."
It has since been passed down through time and hit very well meaning individuals. I’m sorry you are working very hard with your therapist to overcome your depression but you have a great-great (insert more greats) grandmother in England who sat around all day playing cribbage and has doomed you to bouts of melancholy because she was too busy sewing lace to get out and volunteer at an animal shelter.
So when you find yourself feeling down, as we are all wont to do (thanks to our no good ancestors) take a minute and embrace your sad feelings and then kick your great great (insert more greats) uncle Leroy’s fanny for being such a ninny. Finally, get off your keester and do something. It’s all the sitting around that’s making you feel blue in the first place.
And that’s historically proven.