Jolly Bloomin' Christmas

A Daily Lie; A Sad Post.

One of the hardest things about being depressed for me is having to interact with people.

Happy people are undoubtedly the most difficult to encounter.

When I had depression (and I could actually manage to get the courage to go outside and socialise,) I remember coming across some really, genuinely cheerful people. When I went home, I would cry and cry and cry because it was just so easy for them, they weren't even trying to be happy. 

Everyday when I went out I put on my normal person mask (click for relevant blog post).

You've probably figured this out, I was a big time drama student. Everyone in my class thought I would go on to be an AC-TOR (read that word dramatically, like Ahck *pause*Tore)

My point is I was pretty good at faking happy, even though it took a lot of my energy.

I remember one day I went out to Woolworths and I was having a particularly low day. I did not feel like being pretend happy. I felt like feeling what I felt like. You heard me...

When I got to the checkout (before those AMAZING self serve checkouts came along, I love those things. No human interaction? I'll take 20)

Anyway I was probably buying noodles and biscuits or hotdogs, considering that was my diet back then. Anyway, I got to the check out & this happened: 

Pleasant Checkout Lady: Hi how are you today?

Me: I am...I'm bad.

Still being pleasant lady:...oh! Why's that?

Me: I don't really know.

Pleasant Lady: Well, it's the weekend tomorrow so surely that'll cheer you up!

Me: Maybe.

I got my bags and walked away.
She asked the next customer how they were today. The next customer was good, thanks.

I went home and I cried. Because I knew the weekend would not cheer me up.

Something Different

This is an old drawing I scanned in & digitally traced.
Tracing with a wacom is hard.

I'm not even going to explain this one to you.

The Bunny Story.

Once upon a time, I was feeling sick. I feel sick a lot because I have anxiety & it twists up my stomach. I ensconced myself in a blanket & smashed the couch. Yes, I said ensconced.

All of a sudden, there was a movement out the window.

I got up to check what it was. I peered out of the curtains, and what I saw made my heart burst through my ribcage & I squealed.

 I squealed & I squealed to Nick (housemate) what I saw. I told him what was outside. He thought I was hallucinating. Because earlier in the story I was sick, remember?

      

Naturally, I RAN OUTSIDE. 

I RAN OUTSIDE AND I CHASED THAT BUNNY.

I CHASED THAT BUNNY FOR HOURS.

I CHASED THAT BUNNY INTO THE SUNSET.

I did not catch it.

The next day, guess what I did?

I CHASED THE BUNNY!! 

At one point my screamy neighbour tried to help, she was on her son's scooter. Her name is Sarah. She's always screaming at her boyfriend & storming out of her house. Anyway at this point in time she wasn't screaming. She was helping me catch the bunny. Unfortunately, her sons then came out & they are insane. They scared the bunny under a car & it wouldn't come out. I was this close [ <--> ] that close to getting it gently, in a towel. Because it was winter and bunnies should not be outside in the cold. Two hours later, I went back outside. The kids were still waiting underneath the car for the bunny to come out. I decided to try again tomorrow.

I decided to try a new strategy.

It did not take long for my housemates to figure out why there were a billion carrots scattered about our front yard.

When I got home from work, I was ready. I never fully considered what I would do if I actually caught the bunny, but we would definitely hang out and watch Law & Order together. I was going to catch the bunny. we were going to be best friends.

My housemates had also made an attempt at catching the bunny during the day while I was out.

They told me this when I got home, as I was getting ready to go out & catch the bunny.

Then they told me.

Nothing could prepare me for this.

APPARENTLY the bunny (MY bunny) SUPPOSEDLY belongs to our weird, party crashing, bubble-blowing, sliding-notes-under-our-door-kind-of-weird neighbour.

SPECKLES?????

SPECKLES?????

That is BULLSHIT.

His name was BARRY.

Barry The Abandoned and Jumpy.

And I loved him.


The End.

In loving memory of Barry; wherever he may be (next door).

Slack.

Coming soon: An emotional story about a bunny.

Until then, this picture of a wolf will have to do:

Also I got interviewed for Erin's art blog which is really very good:

Erin Michelle Art - Interview with Bekky