depression

It’s My Birthday and I Wish I Didn’t Wake Up Today

Today I was born.

Well not actually this exact day. Newborn babies don’t know language let alone know their way around a laptop keyboard. I was born [redacted] years ago and after all this time, I still cannot fathom how humans get out of bed every morning and do life. There are people on this planet that are genuinely happy. It’s disgusting.

The last time in my life that I remember being happy was in 1998 when I met Paul O’Neil and Derek Jeter before a home game at the old Yankee stadium but I was a little boy. I could’ve met the borderline homeless man who walks around dressed as Spider-Man in Times Square and I would’ve been equally as happy. I was a dumb child. I was just happy to go for a car ride back then.

Fast forward 20 years and the idea of leaving my house gives me anxiety. Why would I walk outside? That’s where all the people are. No thanks. I’m all set on that. Even the idea of getting out of bed is my equivalent of Sisyphus pushing a boulder uphill all day only for it to roll back down.

Wake up. Write. Work. Watch the New York Knicks lose. Go to bed. Repeat. I’m jealous of Sisyphus. He never had to watch Renaldo Balkman shoot 8% from the 3-point line. The NBA average is 34%. Renaldo Balkman shot 8% in the 2007-08 season. The Knicks ended the year 23-59 and head coach Isiah Thomas would be fired. Sometimes I feel like Renaldo Balkman when he catches the ball on the 3-point line. Dread.

It’s my birthday. I should be blowing out candles on a cake that I will pretend to only want one piece of when it’s initially cut only to finish the entire cake alone by sundown. I should have plans with friends. I should be answering every question asked of me after 8pm with the response ‘turn down for what?’.

Instead, I’m PISSED that I woke up today.

I [lowers sunglasses] have depression. I spend every day hoping a plane engine falls out of the clouds and lands on my head like in Donnie Darko. Avengers: Infinity War was an amazing movie but then Thanos snapped his fingers to erase half of the galaxy’s population and here I still am. The fuck?

I go days without looking in the mirror because worst case scenario: I’m still me. Best case scenario: I have no reflection but honestly, being a vampire means eternal life on Earth so a lifetime of being miserable seems a bit, much.

If you ever see me out in the wild and I’m not crying, please know that it’s taking all of my power not to. Either that or I got all of my tears out in the shower-cry that morning. Some people leave the house in the morning with that ‘anything can happen’ mentality while I believe that same thing except I know that ‘anything’ means ‘all of the worst things ever’.

Every puddle I step in is a little deeper than they appeared on the surface so my socks are soaked but of course, there are holes in my socks so my feet are soggy and I should’ve stayed laying in bed Googling my name. Who am I to believe that today is the day I could defeat my arch nemesis: the puddle?

I wish I was the dumb naive kid who wanted to be an astronaut when he grew up even though 18 astronauts in American history have straight up EXPLODED attempting to leave the Earth’s atmosphere and unless your name is Neil Armstrong, no one gives a shit about your cute little vacation on the moon. Name all the people who have been in space. Exactly. Things would’ve been easier for me if I was dumb.

I would kill to be killed via rocket explosion.

Depression is a bitch.

I reckon some of this is on me. As I write this, the sun is shining. Blue skies. Perfect weather to be outdoors and active and instead I’m sitting on my gross ass futon with the curtains closed and my phone on Do Not Disturb as I watch The Royal Tenenbaums for the 7,404th time pretending like the stale chips I’m crushing into my mustache are a meal.

I should probably go outside and interact with people.

They say you are responsible for your own happiness. That’s a bit of a problem for me. I wouldn’t describe myself as the most ‘responsible’ human ever. I once lost $350 on a random Toronto Blue Jays/Texas Rangers spring training game. I bet the under. The game turned into a fucking home run derby. I’m still sick about it.

I probably drink too much, probably, definitely.

That doesn’t seem like the solution to depression, from what I’ve been told while throwing up the next morning but here I am knowing that the second I hit publish on this article, I’m going to leave my house with a 13% phone battery to go get drunk alone.

I’m probably a bad person.

I mean, I try to be a good guy which is usually a clear sign that I’m a bad guy. Good people just are good people. They don’t have to convince themselves of that fact. Being good is like being pregnant. You either definitely are or you are definitely not. Or you lose $350 and pretend like none of it ever happened1.

But again, I try to be good.

For example, when I first start talking and developing feelings for a girl, instead of committing to her and cheating on her like a monster, I’ll hook up with other people BEFORE I commit which I recognize is an awful way to treat someone you care about but it’s still my attempt at being ‘good’.

Okay wait yea, I’m a bad guy.

If I am responsible for my own happiness then I suppose that means I’m responsible for my own unhappiness? Is that how that works? Sounds like the proper arithmetic. I should exercise or do yoga or whatever. Maybe I’ll buy a succulent. Would that make me feel better? A succulent?

So what do I do with all this information?

Why did I write this? Should I be seeking help for my depression or should I check out these succulent seeds in my Amazon cart? Both?? Neither???? Maybe stop drinking? These NFL preseason games are calling my name. I can’t NOT bet my entire paycheck on a game between 3rd string quarterbacks. But if I win, succulents on me. Everyone gets a suc.

 

 

All I know is….

 

 

…IT’S MY MOTHERFUCKING BIRTHDAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYY LETS GOOOOOOOOO GUCCI GANG GUCCI GANG GUCCI GANG GUCCI GANG GUCCI GANG GUCCI GANG GUCCI i’m incredibly sad GANG GUCCI GANG GUCCI GANG GUCCI GANG GUCCI GANG GUCCI GANG GUCCI GANG GUCCI GANG GUCCI GANG GUCCI GANG.

 

 

(I wish I didn’t wake up today)

 

 

 

 

 

Thanks for reading.

  1. Did you see what I did there with the callback to the bet from earlier and turning it into an abortion joke? Shout out to me getting these jokes off before Brett Kavanaugh turns the world into The Handmaid’s Tale.
TheLesterLee

Written by TheLesterLee

Creator and King of Deadseriousness. Writer of all things pop culture. Jerk.

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