An Open Letter To You For When You’re Sad or Depressed

Reading Time: 3 minutes

Hello,

You look like you could use some help figuring some things out. Surely you must, or you wouldn’t have been so compelled to click. So, let me start out by saying I’m glad you came here. No, really. I’m happy you would choose this lonely blog of all other lonely blogs, books or WebMDs out there. You want to know why? Because you mean the world to me. I mean that. It sounds silly, right? Like it couldn’t possibly be true! … yet it is. Because without you, the world as I, and they, and we know it, would cease to exist. You’re that powerful. You may not know it yet.

I’ll bet you’ve spent a good chunk of time wallowing. I can appreciate that. Perhaps staring off into the far nether-reaches of the corner of your wall, motionless, wordless, aimless. Perhaps you’re so paralyzed by rumination and ruination that it takes you 15 minutes to decide if you’re going to take your shoes off and forego a run to the grocery store tonight. And then another 45 minutes of staring and contemplating, and suddenly it’s too late to cook a sensible supper, and that choice has been made for you. Lord knows, I have been exactly there, too.

I’ll bet you’ve got mail piling up inside your mailbox because it seems too daunting to confront the outside world right now. That mailbox: just a container of expectations placed upon you by others, expectations you just can’t be bothered with living up to right now. You’re tired. You’re not right. You’re not feeling it today. I feel that. I feel you.

Maybe you’ve been letting yourself go. Bit-by-bit, piece-by-piece, pound-by-pound. Another Xanax at the end of a long day, washed down by a six-pack to lull you to sleep. Another full bag of tortilla chips, dipped into a delicious queso dip. A yawn and a twist to the other side of the couch as a 30-for-30 or SVU marathon drones on in the background. I know.

Possibly, you’re losing hope at work. You’re getting older and wondering if you’ve plateaued professionally. You were just passed over for that promotion in favor of that dude who shows up 20 minutes late every day, who spends his entire afternoons reading Buzzfeed and watching Fortnight tutorials from lunch until 5. Maybe you just lost your job. Maybe there isn’t enough Jameson and ice cream in the world that will dull that pain. I understand.

And what if you’re lonely? All your friends moving on with their newfound loves, all their brides and grooms and babies and playdates and kids and graduations and and you just watch the highlights from your perch in front of a 17″ laptop screen or your smartphone, tuned in to every one of their happy life-affirming status updates expressing “gratitude” and “mindfulness” and hashtag-blessed and living-my-best-life. Maybe you silently seethe with a tiny bit of envy, which later gives way to sadness. “What I wouldn’t give to live in South Beach,” you think to yourself. “It’s cold here. It’s really cold right now.” Let me warm you.

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