Stage 10 – Depression

Just in case you missed any. I know I added a bunch at once. There’s an order, hopefully you’ll figure it out. Hint: 1, then 2, then 3, and so on…

Stage 1 Stage 2 Stage 3 Stage 4 Stage 5 Stage 6 Stage 7 Stage 8 Stage 9

Stage 10 – Depression

Ahhhh, good times.

When there is a gnawing at my gut, an ache, a pain, somewhere deep inside of me, I’ve learned that it’s not hunger. Oh no, it’s Depression, slinking into my life, gripping my insides in his clutches, and twisting.

When the World loses it’s color and the Rocky Mountain Mornings are simply an affectation of the Planet’s rotation, it’s Depression, with his hands over my eyes, filtering through only what I need to not bump into things when I walk.

When children’s laughter is annoying instead of sweet and the music coming from my speakers is more noise than anything else, it’s Depression, with his hands over my ears, filtering through only what I need not to completely ignore people around me.

When food loses its taste and any possible appeal, it’s Depression, with his hand in my mouth covering my taste buds, and he isn’t even bothering to filter out the rancid taste of the spoiled Sour Cream I attempted to eat for dinner the other night.

When nothing gets me aroused sexually anymore and I barely even get Morning Wood once a week, it’s Depression, walking by casually and giving me a “bag-tag” the minute I start to think about sex. Those really hurt the worst, by the way, if you don’t do them that hard. If you just give ’em a flick, it’s crippling.

When I can’t sleep without drinking myself into oblivion and lie awake at 4 AM wondering what the hell I’m going to do with my life, it’s Depression, pulling at my eyelids and whispering a mountain of misgivings into my ears.

When the heart in my chest hurts, physically hurts, so badly that I worry I may drop dead any second, it’s Depression, plucking at my heart’s strings and reminding me that a lot of the good that was in my life is going the way of the Dodo.

Depression doesn’t really say anything too loudly, he just worms his way into my life and craps all over whatever he can find. He perches on the edge of the fridge, hides in the corner of the shower, lurks in my closet, and rides shotgun in my truck when I drive an hour to my nephew’s birthday in Greeley.

He waits and waits until the moment is right, and then he asserts his presence with the pall that he casts over me.

. . .

He’s gonna hate the present you got him. Really, who buys a 5-year old a chainsaw?

“It’s a H0me Depot Toy Chainsaw, it’s loud and it’s got parts that move, what’s not to like?”

You should’ve gotten toys for the other two kids. They’re gonna be pissed that you showed up with nothing for them.

“Shit man. I’ll run to the store when I get there, okay?!?”

You shouldn’t even be gone all day today anyway, it’s your last day to spend with Dingbat.

“Yeah, I know. My retarded dog will be upset with me because I went to spend time with my 3 cute, wonderful nephews. Shut it.”

She’s going to go live with the Girl, and you’ll be all alone with your Asshead. You should be getting all the love from that dog that you can, while you can.

“I’ll give her a bone when I get home, then I’ll let her sleep on my lap while we watch football tonight, that’s all she really asks.”

Home? It’s not even going to be ‘home’ for much longer. You have to sell your great house, and move to some shithole, where you’re dog will run away, your neighbors will hate you and your truck will be vandalized. You’ll be lucky if they don’t try and sodomize you with your smelly hockey equipment.

“Jeezus! You don’t let up do you? What’ll it take to get you to go the fuck away?!?”

Peanut Butter Cup ice cream ain’t gonna do it this time. I’m here for a while, punk.

“I’m going to punk your ass bad, you fuck, when I become deliriously happy and you’re nowhere to be found.”

HA! Your life is circling the drain, I’m just here to remind you of that.

“It ain’t that bad, I’ve got a lot goin’ for me.” (pause) “I really do. I’ve got? Hey. Where’d you go? Where the hell are you? Sonova? Yeah, and stay out!”


Just like that, he drops out of sight. His residual effects fade pretty quickly too, but I know he’ll be back soon enough.

Right now I’m doing what I can against him on my own. I know that he hates good coffee, bright sunshine, and cuddly, stupid dogs, so I’m just trying to keep those things around. It ain’t easy. My coffee still isn’t that great, and it’s been cloudy lately. Meh, it’s Colorado, the sky will clear, and I’ll look in the Gourmet Coffee aisle and see if they have any Anti-Depression Beans. I’ll have to look by the Mocha-Java, I guess, ’cause that’s where I’d stock them.

A visit from Happiness, or even his buddy, Contentment would suffice, for now, to drive Depression back into his muddy, dank hole, but I don’t see them coming for a while, and Depression already has his own towel on the rack and his toothbrush by the sink.

Right where the Girl’s used to be.