You know all those sappy, disgustingly inspiring articles or blog posts that get passed around the internet like <insert dumb and slightly disgusting simile here>? That shit is nauseating, and it makes us insignificant bloggers that simply post pointless vulgarity extremely jealous. Which also makes me nauseous. Although I do have IBS and an anxiety disorder; pretty much everything makes me kind of sick. Except Pizza Rolls. Those fuckers are delicious.
I can’t understand why this phenomenon of all slightly encouraging bullshit instantly going viral hasn’t hit Turd Mountain yet. Even my heartfelt (and oddly well received) cheap shot at veganism didn’t get nearly the number of views that some patronizing filth about building a perfect marriage did. And don’t even get me started on the rebuttal to a response to a tweet about an open letter to Miley Cyrus. But, I digress.
In an attempt to join the trend of telling everyone everything they’re doing all wrong, I’ve decided to write a helpful guide to surviving depression. You’re welcome.
Remember that annoying “Chicken Soup for the_______ Soul” trend? Well, consider this post a Laxative for the Bound-Up Brain. Maybe Words of Hope for the Hopelessly Depressed. Or, something to skim through to kill three minutes that won’t make you need to punch a fucking unicorn in its stupidly cheerful face.
So without further ado-doo, here are a few tips to lift you from dejected and miserable to a comfortable state of so-so:
-Find something positive in every situation. Start small! “Hey, right now I don’t want to kill myself” tends to remind us of all the reasons we really do want to, and all of our congratulatory self-talk goes down the shitter. Find a way to celebrate what you’re already achieving. “Hey, if I didn’t have crippling social anxiety and could actually join a yoga class, I bet my instructor would be super impressed with my ability to hold the fetal position for three days on end!” Now that is optimism you can’t argue with yourself about! Unless you said it all snotty-like. Then you kind of have it coming.
|I am so in tune with my body right now.|
-Hoard animals. Chances are you’ll be too busy cleaning up piss and puke to dwell on your misery. Plus you’ll never have to wonder if anyone gives two shits, because chances are you’ll find at least that many in your shoes.
-Drink vodka. Forget that whole “alcohol is a depressant” thing. More vodka is consumed in Eastern Europe and Russia than anywhere else in the world, and honestly, when you think of the happiest places on Earth doesn’t Yakustk immediately come to mind?
|Eat your heart out, Disney World.|
-Keep your therapy appointments. Spending an hour a week having a stranger uncomfortably stare at you while you try to choose the right lies to keep your ass out of the loony bin again will make you realize things could always be worse. You could have to do that shit twice a week.
-Start a blog centered around dick and fart jokes, thereby luring strangers into reading the pathetic details of your personal life. This will give you an inflated sense of self-worth, that will only come crashing down when you realize the only beings that can stomach you at your worst are your cats, and that’s just because they’re giant whores that will gladly dole out a snuggle or two in exchange for a full food dish and a clean box to poop in. (See “animal hoarding”.) But until then, you matter!
-Invest all your money in pajamas. It’s impossible to hate the world when you’re wearing fleece Hello Kitty jammies. And if you get ambitious and decide to clean yourself, what better than another pair of supercute cozies to change into? It’s like a slumber party all for you! Don’t be embarrassed; nobody’s coming to visit. Not now, not ever.
-Take pills. Lots and lots of pills. But get them from your doctor. They have the good shit. Sometimes the side effects even include "delusions of grandeur" and wouldn't that be a nice change of pace?
So, that’s it. Just follow these easy steps and you’ll be almost functional in no time! I’d give you examples of all the great things I’ve accomplished lately, but my lawyer has strictly advised against posting anything about my personal life until a few things are, um, settled. But I assure you, I’ve never been happier. You can trust me. Hey... if I’m lyin’, I’m dyin’.
|Please kill me.|
A bonus tip for my fellow weak writers out there-- End with a quote from somebody far more articulate than you could ever dream to be. For example, I can think of no public figure so inspiring to wrap up this piece of worthless drivel than the great prophet Mike Tyson: "I'm on the Zoloft to keep me from killing y'all."
|If only we could all be so well adjusted.|
**Legal Disclaimer: Kimmy is not a mental health professional, she’s just a professional at needing mental help. Do not actually follow any of her advice. Ever. Please drink responsibly. Any accounts or descriptions of this blog without the express written consent of the National Football League are prohibited. And always stop, drop, and roll. Dicks.