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Friday, February 28, 2014

How I Deal With Depression

Someone hurt me today.  I never saw it coming.  I offered my help to a friend over a possible obstacle that they might need to surmount, and I was shot down.  Crash. Boom.

Confused, upset, a bit bloody from the fray, I did what I do when things like this happen.  Rather than crawling into a metaphorical hole and “licking my wounds,” I went on the web, typed in the url which tonight will be my salvation, and go to YouTube.

Weird, huh?  Not really.  I always start out with a heavy dose of Adam Lambert: I click through all of his appearances on Idol and then switch on to The Ten Commandments. I always start with Is Anybody Listening? I can’t breathe when Adam Lambert sings.  I find myself holding my breath.  Never have I heard a voice like this, and for a little while, I’m more concerned for Adam than myself:  Will he begin to branch out?  Will he become the icon I know he can be you know, the kind who crosses every genre in music?  I listen, I savor, and congratulate myself on finding this on YouTubeThe Ten Commandments. That’s a good one because Val Kilmer is in it too, so I get a double dose of anti-depression.  I then move on to Britain’s Got Talent and once again revel in the triumph of Susan Boyle, Paul Potts and listen to the magic of  Jonathan and Charlotte, relishing, savoring Jonathan’s triumph over prejudice as his amazing voice soars through the speakers of my computer.  I like it when the odd one out wins.  I like it very much. Next, Clay Aiken.  I love the way he sings Solitaire, and so I slip into a calmer state and on to my next “fix.”

Calmed a bit now, I move on to the funny pet videos and fall in love with one animal after another.  Sweet, little Denver, the guilty dog, so torn up because he was a bad boy.  I want to pet him and say, “It’s all right, Love.  We all mess up from time to time.”

It makes me feel better, but it doesn’t take away the hurt.  It makes it possible for me to sleep.  Instead of rude words and hurtful sentences, I can think about the kitten who wants to snuggle with the baby.  Denver, sweet boy, and how I know his owner (in my world we are known as slaves) who apparently loves Denver unconditionally, will put down the camera and comfort his friend.  Or I can think of Susan Boyle and the look on everyone’s face after just a few notes emit from her golden throat.  Overweight, dowdy, absolutely no one’s idea of a star, she loosens her soul and sings, seemingly effortlessly, shocking everyone…except herself.

Jonathan and his friend Charlotte, who has helped him on this voyage:  overweight, shy Jonathan, beaten down by society because he doesn’t “fit” its idea of who is acceptable, opens his mouth and pure magic peals forth; Charlotte, a beautiful, young woman, looking at her friend, nodding, encouraging, helping him to triumph.

Paul Potts, with the face of a little boy so eager to please and not sure that he will, bringing the audience to their feet.  With his triumph I feel renewed hope in mankind.

I sit and watch over and over.  Distracted, calmed perhaps now I can sleep.

©2014 Debra Shiveley Welch

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