So, this post is about me, a little, and also, just a tiny bit, serious. Don't worry, I won't bore you and I'm not here to whine. I've been feeling depressed and disconnected for a month or so, and now that I'm finally working on fixing myself, I'd like to share a little bit of what it's like. First, for those of you who don't get this, feeling depressed isn't being sad all the time. It's not being upset all the time. It's not even experiencing a negative emotion all the time. Simply put, being depressed is not giving one single flying fuck about what's going on in your life. Not one. It's as if someone found the connector switch marked "Emotions" and unplugged that bad boy.

I'd like to make this abundantly clear at this point- I don't need help. I have a girlfriend and a family and friends that apparently give multiple damns about me. Not sure why... But it's either that, or they all know I'm going to win the lottery at some point.

Now, I never hit the full on version of depression, where you contemplate suicide as the only way to feel a single thing. I'm not unstable enough to get that far, and, even though I realize it's unlikely, if someone reading this DOES get that far, do yourself a favor. Step away from the computer. Go outside. Lie in the sun for a minutes or two. Call a doctor, because nothing is worth a human life. If you think no one cares about you, well, I at least thought you were worth a paragraph.

Returning to the depression I do understand, when you do feel like I do, there are a few things you can do. (This is the humor part. You may now laugh at me). First, turn off the damn computer. Okay, now turn it back on so you can finish reading this. I need page views.

Seriously, though, turn the damn thing off. Go the fuck outside. Right now. I don't care what you have to do. Get outside. Now...here's the tricky part. It's called "walking." For the purposes of this post, I'm assuming you oozed towards the door or something. Anyway, you are now outside. To the north...wait. You are now outside. Walk, in direct sunlight, to the nearest grocery store. Buy yourself an apple, or a bagel, or some yogurt. Something both healthy and tasty. Now, we have another tricky part coming up. I need you to go to a park.

Healthy food of choice in hand, you will now apply buttocks to a bench. To relax further, you may close your eyes. This may seem counter intuitive, but bear with me. Now, I want you to eat the food you bought. That's right. Eat it. Chew slowly. Enjoy the taste of something healthy. At this point, you can open your eyes again. Finish the food you bought, sigh slowly, and walk around the park. At this point, you may feel better. You may even convince yourself that I am a genius and have cured you. Don't fall for it. This is a trap, set by your brain, for your brain. Your brain hates itself. It is at this point, when you are feeling at least a little more human, that I wish for you to call a relative, or a close friend, or your significant other.

When they answer the phone, ask for a few minutes of their time. Then, proceed to drop a load of bricks on them by stating that a) you're depressed, and b) you need help. No, don't worry. I'm not leading you into a trap. Contrary to all expectations, these people do care about you. They might even agree to help. If they do, they will give you a ton of advice that you already knew, but were to scared to convince yourself to do. They will then convince you by badgering you until you do follow through. I promise these people care.

If they do NOT offer their help, cut them out of your mental contacts list and repeat this step. They don't deserve you.

Anyway, you may or may not end up at some sort of therapist. These are people who have managed to stay functional despite making a living by listening to other people's problems. This is an impressive feat, and not to be taken likely. For proof, see when I was talking about me. You wanted to hit me, didn't you? Yeah, I don't blame you. Anyway, if you end up at a therapist, don't be afraid to tell them anything. They've heard worse, by far, and honestly, you're probably pretty standard issue.

So, to reiterate-
I'm a little broken.
If you're really broken, call a goddamn doctor.
Depression =/= sadness.
If you ARE depressed, get help.
If you get help, don't lie.
And, most importantly- your brain hates you. Don't listen to it.