It comes around…and around

It was the second day at Disney World when I realized it.  Hailey was laughing her seven-year-old ass off as Victor spun us on the tea cups until we finally cried whiplash.  The weather was gloomy and occasionally hurricaney (that’s a word.  Stop judging me) but we were at Disney World and so everything was magical.  Except in my head.  I enjoyed myself and I’m so glad we did it, but the second day I realized that my peripheral vision was fading and that’s always a sign that a bout of depression is looming down toward me.

I was fine the first day.  I was tired the next.  The third day I wanted nothing other than to stay in bed, but instead I faked it.  I still enjoyed seeing Hailey so happy.  I still appreciated being able to spend real time with my family.  I still functioned.  I’m still functioning.

Maybe this time I’ll be able to fool myself into staving off a severe bout.  Maybe it was just a fluke and it will all pass quickly.  Maybe I just postponed the inevitable depression that will hit me any moment.  I don’t really know.

But what I do know is that I’m going to be okay.  I know that depression lies.  I know that I’ll be in this black hole again and again in my life.  I also know I’ll see daylight soon.  The spinning continues…in both good ways and bad.

I realize how incongruous that picture is in a post about depression but it’s also pretty incongruous that some of the funniest people I know suffer from mental illness so all bets are off.

But there was one thing I wanted to share.  At one point the ride we’d been waiting on was closed because a terrible rainstorm broke out so we ran for cover and hid under the monorail for some shelter.  It was fairly miserable and all I could think about it how I wanted to be dry and in bed and how I felt bad for Hailey that she was stuck in a closed park with no access to rides and that’s when I noticed that she was having the most fun she’d had all day just jumping in the enormous puddles and catching rain in her mouth.  Rain that had dripped off the monorail and probably gave her cholera, but still…she was so damn furiously happy.  She took what came at her and made it into joy.

This isn’t a post about forcing yourself to just smile and “be happy” because anyone with true depression knows this isn’t an option.  Instead, it’s about the good things that can come out of the bad.  In the past 5 years I’ve received 20 emails that I keep in a very special folder.  They are all from people who were looking suicide right in the face.  They are all from people who are still here now.  Mothers and fathers and daughters and sons who are still alive because of this blog.  And not because of my posts.  They’re alive because they saw the incredibly response to my posts.  They saw thousands of other people saying “Me too.”  “I thought it was just me.”  “I thought I was alone.  But I’m not.”  And that – that sense of community – convinced them what their mind could not…that depression lies.  That you can find help.  That therapy and medication and support can change lives.  And I want to thank you for that.  I want to thank you from the family and friends of 20 people whose lives you saved.

And I want to thank you for reminding me every day that depression does lie.  I want to thank you for telling me that it’s okay when I have a week when I simply can’t be funny.  But mostly I want to thank you because there are 20 people out there today who wouldn’t be in this world if it weren’t for you.  There are 20 more of us.  And that’s a good thing.  So maybe there’s a reason why I have depression.  And maybe it’s to help someone else.  And maybe there’s a reason you do too.  And maybe you saved a life without even knowing it.  Thank you.

This post isn’t about depression.

It’s about laughing in spite of the rain.

It’s about laughing because of the rain.

861 thoughts on “It comes around…and around

Read comments below or add one.

  1. First off: your daughter is BEAUTIFUL!
    Second: thank you for being such a wonderful writer. You make my day.

  2. I really admire your bravery. (Not only for being so open about your depression, but for riding those nauseating tea cups!) My husband suffers from severe depression and reading your blog has helped me understand what he’s going through just a little bit more. It’s made me a better wife.

    Twenty lives is huge. What we can accomplish when we stop worrying about what everyone else thinks and just decide to be open and honest never ceases to amaze me. Bravo.

  3. Depression does always lie. And you survive and I survive and so many others survive. We do more than that. We kick ass as much as we can when we can and bring each other along for the ride.

  4. You are so strong. It makes me sad how many people aren’t willing to see that it gets better. I’ve lost two friends to their own hand, and I’ve seen the devastation that follows. With a beautiful daughter like yours, there’s always a light to look forward to.

  5. I almost always leave your blog with tears in my eyes, mostly from laughing. Today it’s from crying, but a good cry.

  6. Just what I needed to read, as I feel myself spiraling down. I’m trying to enjoy or appreciate one or two little things every day, but I just keep getting that awful “What’s the POINT???!!” feeling. I need to remember that depression lies, and that it will pass. Thanks for reminding me.

    And you’re a brave soul to even take on Disney World. It’s my idea of one of the circles of hell. The things we do for our kids, huh?

  7. That is powerful! I love being a part of this community.
    I am crying as I read this because my Mom suffers from life long depression and I relate to you both; though I’ve managed some pretty fierce depression coping skills growing up in that environment.
    Power to you ALL!

  8. You are so awesome, as always. I can’t wait until I can actually see you in person – can I touch your hem?? 😉 (8 days and counting!)

  9. Your posts like this just make my heart feel like it’s going to explode. Both because of the people who have been helped and because you have such wonderful clarity about how impossible depression can be…but that it doesn’t have to be. Thank you.

  10. I love dancing in the rain.

    my brain lies, I know it lies, I’d like it not to but it enjoys it. we are never alone.

  11. Wowza. I just got chills. I am a “me too” – Thanks for making me feel not alone.

  12. I’ve said it before and I’ve said it again, you’re my hero. I love this crazy little community and I can’t thank you enough for bringing it together.

  13. Stunningly written… your daughter is your doppleganger… okay I know not by definition… but my god…. and thanks for giving voice beyond depression

  14. Rollercoasters are scary things but if you just get on and strap in, you’ll have the ride of your life. *

    We love you for your ups and downs. Thank you for sharing everything that you do.

    Excellent pictures of Hailey in the Teacups!

    *(If you swap a couple of the above prepositions and verbs around, you may also have the ride of your life…)

  15. Cholera? Clearly your brain is lying to you pretty badly, everybody knows that Disney monorail runoff gives you dysentery. Didn’t you read your “Oregon Trail’s Guide to the Magic Kingdom” pamphlet?

  16. Every time depression stomps my ass into the ground, I remember that you and this ungodly ridiculous community of people are all here, and all supportive, and all about giving depression a wedgie.

    I love you all, in that peculiar, broken way that we have.

  17. Simply beautiful. And thank you for the reminder…it pays to get furiously happy, and not the other way around.
    I also want to remind YOU…those 20 are just the ones who said something. There may be, and likely are, many more that haven’t said something.
    You, and then by extension the rest of us, change the goddamn world.

  18. My friend Yaya and I call it “the well”
    peering in over the edge, looking up from deep in it. The Well.
    Much love to you.

  19. I’m so glad you and your daughter have each other. You seem to be so hopeful in spite of what you have (and because of what you have). I love reading your blog and value your honesty as much as your humor. Thanks for sharing.

  20. The next time I see a puddle I’m gonna stomp it extra hard, just for you.

  21. “whoever said sunshine is pure happiness, has never danced in the rain” Seems fitting!! Thank you for another wonderful post!!

  22. My husband has cyclical depression and anxiety that flares up regularly.

    Through the years, I’ve gotten better at being supportive in a way that actually helps but I have to say, your posts have given me more tools. Even though it seems blindingly obvious that the voices of depression and anxiety lie, I never thought to *say* that to him… and now I do. And he’s started repeating it to himself when in the throes of a panic.

    So thank you for that. And for being so freaking hilarious in general.

  23. Thank you.

    I’m currently supporting someone as they go through a bout of depression. It’s so hard to understand – this helps me “get” a little bit how helpless he might be feeling.

    It breaks my heart that I can’t use some Disney magic to fix it…

  24. Depression lies, love endures. Bless you for the reminder and for fighting.

  25. Jenny, you are such a strong person and your daughter is the beautiful, wonderful, carefree girl she is all because of you.

  26. I love the four pictures of Hailey on the teacups. Thank you for being brave. Depression does lie and I hope if this is the beginning of another dark hole you end up in china very quickly. (I think this comment makes sense.)

  27. I’m crying now. Just *this post* at *this moment* for me. Because I’ve been staving off depression too. Because I write a humor blog, and yet sometimes pulling out the funny is the hardest thing. Because sometimes I fake it for my family. Because sometimes the only thing I can do is tell my husband I need to take another shower just to escape the anxiety. Thank you. Thanks for red dresses and silver ribbons and for building community among all of us who say, “me too.”

  28. I think some of the most fun I’ve ever had has been dancing in the rain or making a ridiculous prat of myself for the simple pleasure of it. Those furiously happy moments are what I hold onto whenever things lie me low (even when there’s ample external cause). Because of you (and all your fantabulous followers), I think “Depression, you lying bastard,” and continue on the struggle.

    So I’ll second those thank.

    PS. And those teacups are a blast, aren’t they? My best Disney memories involve Dad spinning us in those.

  29. Oh Jenny, you sweet thing. Depression does lie.

    Love you,

  30. dammit….now I’ve got something in my eye…*sniff*….

  31. Beautifully written and so very true. I have lost two friends to the lies depression tells, and I am completely determined to never lose another. Thank you all for that.

  32. Today is a hard day, a hard, hard, hard day. And this, right here, helped. Helped bring the tears I’m holding back to be strong, helped to remind me that sometimes the rain needs to be celebrated.

    Thank you.

  33. Whatever it is we all write about, I think the “Me Too” letters, comments, emails are what remind us it’s all worth it. And to have twenty of those? That’s the pinnacle right there.

    Thanks for the reminder that we can often see in our kids where *we* still have to grow.

  34. The depression I face has never been severe, but I understand the darkness all too well. My work also gives me the opportunity to walk with people in the darkness. Your humor and your honesty are refreshing and healing. Thanks for being there, in the rain as well as the sunshine.

  35. Ugh,wtf just happened. I am trying to recommend Post Secret as the sale of these books have gone to funding a national suicide hotline in the memory of a woman who killed herself after her baby died. This site is therapeutic,funny,sad,ugly,beautiful and maddening, And it shows that we are all connected-we all have secrets and joy and pain that burdens us. It is WONDERFUL,and a lot of school’s have adopted a project very similiar. When you deel the holw coming on,go to this site,the post secret fb /community pages and the beautiful youtube videoas people have been nspired to make. You may not feel better,but I PROMISE you won’t feel so alone…

  36. The Internet and the communities here was one of several things that saved my life when I fell down the rabbit hole some years back, and it meant so much to me that at first I wanted to create a community here as well, one that reaches out to others and says you’re not alone, but I quickly came to realize that there are days, sometimes on end, that I can’t bear to respond to blog posts, comments, messages, and that while a community may eventually become self-sustaining, it has to be nourished to be built in the first place. Also I apparently don’t know how to use periods. Anyway, I want to say thanks for being one of us crazies sane enough to make a place where we can pull together and pull ourselves up and lift each other up sometimes. I’m so glad to be able to contribute a little bit here and on Twitter, thanks for making a place for us to do that. And I really hope whatever tunnel you pass into next, whenever that may be, is a short one that doesn’t smell too dank.

  37. I love seeing pure joy on someone’s face. And, though I rarely comment, I do love the community on here – so supportive. I love just reading through the comments.

  38. Thanks for posting this. I’d love to say something pithy or profound but I think you’ve covered it all very nicely. Sometimes life is hard and it’s dark and you don’t want to get out of bed. BUT there are moments of such happiness that remind you that life isn’t ALWAYS like that. Stay strong. 🙂

  39. The fact that you save ONE person is huge. That one person can save one more person, and so on, and so on, and so on… I’m not trying to sound like that creepy shampoo commercial from the 70’s at all here. You do good things here, Jen. Seriously. You make us laugh, you make us cry, you make us laugh until we cry. But we hear you and we love reading you every single day. I may not speak for everyone (though I’m sure my family swears that I try to every time I open my mouth), but I’ll be happy to say THANK YOU for making MY life better.

  40. Thank you — thank you for your honesty, and for providing a space and forum that made it possible for 20 people (that you know of, and probably more) to find the community and support they needed at their most difficult times.

    Btw, cholera from the monorail rain sounds like a crappy souvenir.

  41. I love you.
    Like, a lot.
    And every time I get scared because I need to be open about my mental illness and I don’t want people to think that I’ m “crazy”, I remember how much relief I’ve gotten from reading your blog and knowing that I’m not alone.

  42. I suffer anxiety, and luckily not depression. But my parents made me feel guilty for not getting over it. I couldn’t drive, I would become terrified in large crowds, I would panic in traffic jams. I saw the toll it was taking on my husband, trying to help me and do all the driving. One day, I had had enough. Went to the doc, told him I couldn’t function anymore and told him no xanax. I have four kids and needed to be able to function. He put me on Lexapro. Three weeks in, the change was astounding. I could do things with no fear! I could drive, I could handle a shopping mall or an outdoor event. I will never be ashamed to take medication that I so obviously need. No matter how bad my parents try to make me feel. Thank you for shedding a light on the darkness that mental illness can be! Love you!

  43. I deal with depression as well. With help from medication I can make it through the day. When my meds ran out I spent most days in tears. I am lucky enough that mine is not severe enough to contimplate suicide, but it still hard to handle some days. It helps when you have a wonderful support system.

  44. I don’t know if I’ve written a response to your depression posts; I suspect not, but I have gotten to the point where I am comfortable talking about damn near anything with damn near everyone, so it’s not the big deal it once would have been. But in case I didn’t before, for all 20 of those email senders and anyone who hasn’t but maybe needs to:
    I suffer from depression. I have for most of my adult life. I tried to kill myself when I was 18. I am now 31. I am still here, and though I sometimes feel like I shouldn’t be, that I and the world would both be better off if I wasn’t, I know better. Depression lies to me with my own voice, but I know when it’s me talking and when it isn’t, and you can learn to tell the difference too. You can learn to survive yourself. <3

  45. Thanks, I really needed to hear this. I’m going to fight against the lie that’s whispering in my ear today; turn my focus outside of myself and see that things are okay out there.

  46. The black holes. Over time and through experience I’m learning to create a “bunker” to huddle in during those periods. It consists watching a lot of TCM and napping, and sometimes sobbing into an old monogrammed hankie of my Dad’s. Re-reading all of Nancy Drew. Ice cream.

    For years I’ve wondered – if there is extra-strength Excedrin for really bad headaches, why not extra-strength Prozac for really bad days?

  47. Keep going, kiddo. Good for you for learning to recognize the lies and wait for them to pass. Your daughter is probably having WAY more fun at DisneyWorld because the rain is keeping the crowds down! Yes, it’s a theme park, but it’s a really clean, really well-run theme park, and to a child it is MAGICAL! Enjoy her enjoying it, and when the depression passes, you will have so much fun looking at the pictures and going over the memories!

    P.S. — I’ve always loved the teacups! Her pictures sum it up: Pure joy!

  48. After a horrible day yesterday where I just wanted to drink until I didn’t think about anything but the bottom of the glass (I didn’t) , and today where it seems like no one understands (they do), this post made me cry again, but in a good way. Depression does lie. People do understand. We are not alone. Thank you for posting this. It’s hot here and I wish it would rain so I could go out in it, and dance, and smile, and drink the rain from the gutter which would probably give me gutter-herpes. I love you Jenny-from-the-Blog, and thank you for posting things that make sense to us, and that make sense to no one else.

  49. Big Sniffs here! My BFF suffers and I have had small bouts myself. Sometimes it takes just one good thing to help you put your situation in perspective. So sorry you go through this and so many others have to. Its a wonderful thing to have people know that they can get help and see others who are in the same situation. You have been that for people and you have to be proud of that!

  50. You are awesome and you are like Mother Teresa only much Much MUCH BETTER! Thank you.

  51. THANK YOU!! For everything. Your writing. Your silver ribbons. Your red dresses. Your honesty. The fact that you make me feel so not alone. THANK YOU!

  52. somedays i get tired of pretending – of wearing that happy face mask so other people are more comfortable to be around me. you are my go-to blog. when i need to touch base with someone else who get’s me even though we have never met. being able to laugh out loud at some of your posts are just a bonus.

  53. I just want to point out the beautiful gift of joy that you gave your daughter. She’s obviously having so much fun! Keep going! You can do it! Because you’ve got a precious little girl who is having so much fun and that’s a helluva reason to power through if you can.

  54. I’ve never suffered with clinical depression, but my ex-husband did, and I learned a lot about it. I love this. I teared up. Thank you for opening up and sharing yourself.

  55. I don’t come here simply because you are funny (that’s a very welcome extra) – I come here because you are a fascinating and entertaining person, a person who isn’t simply here for the fame or the recognition. You are here because you are HONEST, you aren’t afraid for people to know you aren’t perfect (because none of us are!)

    The fact that your site shows the world it is fine to have issues, is a great gift to those lucky enough to find it, because the world is a terrifying place for the most simple and insignificant reasons. I look at things and where before I’d think to myself “I really cannot do this” – I now think “at least I don’t have my hand in a cow’s vagina!”

    Thank you, and thank you to everyone who has helped anyone with doubts about life

  56. You are beautiful. Inside and out (though, obviously, inside matters more). Thank you for this lovely post, which I am sure will help reach out to make others feel better yet again. xoxoxo to you for your awesomeness.

  57. While I love all of your posts and the funny pee-in-your-pants one are totally awesome, posts like today really do me so much good. I can get so bogged down in stuff that pulls at you and seems to chew chunks out of your soul, it’s easy to forget that I need to find a puddle to jump in during a rainstorm. Thanks for the reminder. Sending you warm thoughts that “this too shall pass” quickly.

  58. I needed this so desperately today as I sit trying to be ‘on’ at work, in an actual office, far from home and bed and comforting surroundings. I am where everyone thinks that everything here, that everything, is… right and inside I feel so wrong and so alone and so…singular, in a sea of faces and interactions. Thank you Jenny. Thank you Jenny lovers. Thank you.

  59. I’m sitting here crying because I’m staring one of the happiest moments in my life right in the face and all I want to do is get in bed and pull the blankets over my head. I hate anxiety, I hate depression, I hate having to feel like I have to fake it all the time. It’s getting bad enough that it’s causing physical issues, which is doubly scary for someone who worries uncontrollably. Thanks for letting me know I’m not alone. I needed that today.

  60. Normally your posts make me laugh until I cry. Today this one made me cry.
    Thank you for reminding me on a day I needed it that “depression lies”
    “This post isn’t about depression.
    It’s about laughing in spite of the rain.
    It’s about laughing because of the rain.”

    Now I’m smiling.

  61. I needed to read this 8 weeks ago… but now, at least I can use it for the future… thank you

  62. I just found you today when I did a “Most Awesome Blogs of 2012” search, and you are now on my list of “Sites that feed by blog addiction.” Ironically, the day I wrote the post below, I found your site not knowing anything about it … and then I read the post you wrote today and … well, I don’t believe in coincidences. Thank for the honesty.

  63. I’m going to bet it’s a lot more than 20. Some of us aren’t courageous enough to admit that we stare suicide in the face almost every day. I’ve never been able to say out loud that maybe prescribing me a bottle of ambien might just be the worst idea ever. Or that just maybe if I go off my diabetes meds and eat all the candy in the house that I won’t have to get up tomorrow, or ever again. You’ve taught me not to give in to lying voices that are almost constantly screaming in my head. This community of misfits has shown me that even though I feel alone, worthless and overwhelmingly sad that I have a tribe out there. I wish it would rain here just so I could go dance in it.

  64. This is beautiful.

    I’m so thankful that your loved ones are there, waiting for those blurred edges of the peripheral vision to become clear again.

  65. Your words are so helpful. I always find myself thinking the same thing of “me too.” Your daughter is gorgeous!

  66. This shit is hard. It always will be, I’m sure. But knowing that depression lies, and being able to tell it to shut its lying whore mouth are two vastly different things. I wish I could always see the light in everything like children, like Hailey even with a potential bout of the runs, seem to be able to. When do we lose that, that ability to just be happy with what IS? I value you, Jenny: your truth, your rawness, your honesty, your weirdness, your boobs…wait

  67. I used to think that people suffering from depression were possibly exaggerating. Then I went on Percoset for a ruptured disc and cut back on the dosage too fast (I went from 10 pills a day to 2)

    Holy fucking shit. By the end of the day I was having serious thoughts about downing the entire bottle of pills. I told my wife. We compromised and I took one pill to see if that would help – and the black cloud evaporated in about 10 minutes.

    I was able to take a pill and feel almost instantly better. I can’t imagine having to deal with this on any kind of regular basis. The reason I told my wife how I was feeling is because I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it if I woke up the next day feeling the same way.

  68. I’ve always said that the funniest bitches I know are the one’s who have been through Hell and came out the other side. Blogging got me through depression, struggles with alcohol and disordered eating, and a hideously ugly “Lifetime Movie of the Week” divorce. We are all out there. We all have our shit. We are never alone.

  69. It does lie. I was just thinking that how great it is you have that filter that allows you to glimpse the crazy wild abandon happiness around you and know that you will come around to it again. In a way, your blog is handing that filter out to anyone who needs it. Pretty fucking cool.

  70. Your daughter resembles you so much. She has your expression and holds herself the way you do. She is beautiful like you. She just sparkles, truly.

    I hope it passes quickly.

    You are pretty amazing but I must admit the thing I am in awe of right now is that you came up with a tagline for depression! When I’m depressed it’s more like ‘gurgle’ or ‘don’t talk to me’ or ‘I hate myself.’ Not some life saving motto. So that’s just incredible. A life-saving anti-depression tagline. Words fail me.

  71. Fuck you, rain! DisneyWorld is no fun when shit is closed, except when you’re in the hotel bar and don’t know what time it is and can’t remember your own name.

    And triple fuck you, depression!

    And kids… well, they’re pretty great and magical.

  72. I sooooooooo love your courage, your heart and your spirit!!! <3 <3 <3!!!!!

  73. I love this post, because Hailey is SO HAPPY in all those pictures. She won’t let rain or weather ruin her trip. 🙂
    90% of the time when I’m not down, I like to laugh at myself. when things go wrong I try to find the funny in it.
    Last week I set the stove on fire. It was a huge surprise! Butter had fallen below the coil and then while I was BOILING WATER, the stove caught fire.
    But guess what? I overfilled the pot, and the flames caused it to boil violently, thus boiling over and putting out the fire! See?? It was like I PLANNED to put out the fire with Pasta water!
    My Husband was less amused by the fire… Possibly because I was laughing my ass off.
    I said if he wants to avoid it happening again he’ll get me a new stove. HE says he REFUSES to get me a knew stove, or I won’t LEARN anything. Bah.

  74. Gracious, you make me cry happy tears! Thank you for the joy 🙂

  75. I posted a link to a blog, Jenny and readers. A friend of mine is documenting people who have survived suicide, and she is doing it to remove the stigma that some with depression and suicide. The portraits are simple, as are the words, but the point is that everyone on that list is still here because of someone or something. It’s a beautiful and powerful story. I encourage you to check it out – because my husband also appears. He also suffers from depression and if he had followed through with his attempt, I would not be married to the most wonderful, supportive, kind, funny man that I am today. I would never have known him and my life would be distinctly different. Please, check out and see that there is a community out there.

  76. Just have to say that I not only adore Jenny & Hailey & all that, but also the others who post here. It’s such an uplifting thing to read and I admire all of you <3

  77. Two things: One, the thing about the peripheral vision being a warning sign is a total “OMG I though I was the only one” revelation and two, I’m driving 14 hours Friday to see my family and taking you on audiobook with me.

  78. Because of you and all of the lovely people in your tribe, I’ve been able to show my sometimes frustrated and bewildered husband that what I go through is shared by SO many others. This is one of those periods when I’m isolating myself and sleeping far too much and not concentrating enough on work (and I’m our only source of income right now) and all I want to do is sit around and watch stupid shows on TV like “Hoarders” because it reminds me how blessed I am to be merely anxious and depressed. But I refuse to let the lying SOB win. Because I know that even if I fall into the rabbit hole, I’ll climb back out again. Courage and peace to you, my friend. Take a week, or two, or three without any pressure from us…because we love you, and we understand.

  79. I don’t have depression… but I am in kind of a “down” place right now, and those smiling photos of your daughter and your description of her joy are a much-needed dose of UP for me. Thank you.

  80. You are such an inspiration. Thank you so much. I think any of us who suffer from depression know EXACTLY what you’re talking about. I’ve been writing for the past month about mine and I have gotten SO many private messages from friends and family who say they are going through the exact same struggle, people who I thought had it all together, who I envied because their lives were normal. Now I realize they are just like me. Crazy in the best possible way. Thank you for writing inspite of the rain… or because of it. Just put your cape on 😉

  81. Beautiful. Thanks so much for this. I am sharing it with everyone I know.

    Hold your head up and keep moving on.

  82. Just when I needed it most…thank you so much. You are so amazing. You have inspired me, and you have given me the courage to ask for help. I still have my days when I’m staring into those pits, and there are days when I’m in them. But, now the pits aren’t so deep…it isn’t as hard to climb out. Thank you for being you.

  83. I am certain that YOU have saved more lives than you know. You certainly changed mine. This blog, your incredible sense of life, changed my life. It saved me during a very dark time. Thankfully, I haven’t hit that scary bottom of depression where I wanted to end my life but I have been so lost in the dark that all I could feel was the sensation of drowning in life. When I found your blog I was most certainly in a dark place. Then I met Beyonce and I think that was the first time i had laughed, really laughed so hard that tears streamed down my face, in a very long time. Every week you make me smile at the very least. Even during those times when you “simply can’t be funny” your bravery and courage to share those painful moments gives me strength. YOU ARE AMAZING! <3 and hugs

  84. Depression lies. And one of the lies it tells me most often is that because I’m broken, I could only ever have a broken, screwed-up child, so I should never try. Seeing your daughter’s beautiful, happy face helps me remember that I can be broken without breaking other things and other people. Reading your words helps me remember that even if I have a broken child, she can be loved and supported and happy and there are people out there who will take care of her on the days that I can’t. Thank you.

  85. Thank you. For being open and honest and sincere and wonderful. My 13 yr old daughter has severe depression and battles the suicidal thoughts and lies. Each time it surfaces I pray for it to hit me and not her. And then realize that I can’t take it away, but I can be there to support her whatever way she needs my support. And then when it passes, my funny, beautiful, smart little girl is still there enjoying every minute of life that she can – because she can. I am more and more thankful every day that the world is starting to accept and understand mental illness. Hopefully the road for her will not be too hard, and the people that she meets in life will be strong and supportive. No matter what, she’ll have me – I won’t always be able to help or do the right things, but I will try and try and try.

  86. Dear Jenny, There are loads of ‘funny’ people on the web or where ever, but what sticks me to you is that you are also deep and authentic and intimate. Some of this is probably a result of your disease. I am so sorry you have this, and I wish somehow one day you will stumble on some way to keep it at bay, but it does also have a positive side. It seems you have used this suffering as a tool to grow your humanity. You have saved 20 people from death, but thousands (millions?) more for just feeling alone or like freaks. Lots of love! Niki

  87. You’re so right. Depression is a malfunction of the brain, not of the personality, and you and I and so many others are better than it.

    Also, this makes me think of when I was 3 or 4 and my dad realized, while I was on the teacups, that I had chicken pox. I probably infected every kid at the park.

  88. Stay strong! Sometimes you can fight it off, and sometimes you can’t, but either way you’ll make it through!

    I know that summer, a recent hectic schedule, and what I would assume is some (at least) stress from the new book can throw things off kilter. Yet, you describing the peripheral vision thing… that gave me goosebumps! I have that. And the light looks different– muted. And my nerves feel electric, and I don’t want to be touched. I never figured anyone else experienced anything like this!

  89. I came here expecting to read a post that would make me laugh. Instead I read one that was both tear jearking and heart warming.

    Thank you.

  90. The mere thought of riding the teacups makes me feel like yarfing all over my desk, but the look of sheer joy on Hailey’s face is absolutely beautiful.

    I hope this is a short foray into the darkness. <3

  91. These words are not enough, but they are all I have: thank you.

  92. I just love, love, love you. Thank you so much for making me smile even when I’m sure you don’t mean to…I mean, you don’t even know me. Thank you for calling depression to the carpet and telling that whore bitch liar what was it. Thank you for sharing yourself and your experiences with me day in and day out. I hope to have a strawberry hill wine slushie or 10 with you sometime. It’s on my bucket list. Oh, and your daughter is so cute it’s awesomesauce.

  93. Your courage in sharing your stories has helped me in getting on medication and not just bulling through my own issues. You have touched many, many lives, with humor as well as help. Thank you!

  94. Love the pics of your daughter.
    Another “me too” here. Depression lies AND it makes me think I’m the center of my world. Which can be a good thing, but Depression means it in the not-good way. Despite what Depression says, my misery is NOT all about me. Everything that feels so bad about me is only a fraction of my place in my whole world. You know how I know? Because the sun keeps rising. Because my dog keeps wanting me to knuckle-rub around his ears. Because my daughter and her daughter still love me. Because my other daughter, Alice, still likes to sit with me to look at old pictures of her. Including the ones of her in THE DISNEY ALICE DRESS A LA HAILEY!!!!
    See what I did there? Came full circle back to Disney. Because that is the true center of the world.

  95. I needed to hear this today.

    Today is a bad day, but I hope that tomorrow is better.

    Thank you Bloggess, for being a voice and being so fucking funny.

  96. 2zen2– Congratulations on both choosing to stay with us and for being brave enough to admit it here! I am so happy you made the decision to stay!

  97. Depression Lies. My new go-to phrase when the beast starts to creep back into my head. Thank you.

  98. I am bipolar. I rarely said it until I found your blog. I thought the world would hate me for it. So many people thought I was just an introvert because I didn’t go out places and I didn’t talk to new people often. I always thought my depression was the truth and my mania was the lie. Then one day I was searching taxidermy and BAM there you were in all your glory. I went back to your very first post and bookmarked it. Everytime I feel sad I hide in my closet and read your blog. I watched your youtube videos, I bought your book, this community of misfits became my people. I have left only one other comment on your blog and a few days ago I emailed you about the Miami naked zombie and I freaked out when you emailed me back. Only 2 words but you emailed me. Then I read this and realize how hard those 2 words must have been to get out. You can make that 21 people because finally I can say you helped me realize it is ok to be me. I am Amber, I am 30, and I am bipolar.

  99. I’m okay right now, but it doesn’t always last. Arms around all of you who are struggling right now. Depression lies. You matter. You all matter.

  100. Depression lies. The only truth is this: you are not alone. Someone, somewhere, knows you. They know the crazy depths we plunge to. They know the giddy highs. They know that there is no middle ground. They know that we long for and fear the middle ground simultaneously. And they love us anyway, or maybe even because of this. MISFITS FOR LIFE.

  101. A Post Secret video. Post Secret is a blog and the proceeds of the books made from these anonymous postcaeds have gone on to Fund a National Suicide Hotline. This is my favorite,and worth a watch to laugh an cry and realize we are all alone,together….

  102. Yeah, so I really wanted to kill myself recently. It’s such a razor’s edge. You’re spot on, and it DOES feel strange to keep going, especially to keep smiling, over and over again when the day is dark. I am consistently shocked and delighted-and glad I’m not dead- when the fog lifts and I come back to the world.

  103. I miss the days when splashing in puddles was as much fun as catching rain in your mouth. Thank you for sharing with all of us. Depression does lie – there is joy in a rainy day.

  104. Thank you for writing this. Thank you for sharing with everyone that depression lies. And that you can’t just snap out of it, not even in the Happiest Place on Earth. For those of us who have, and continue to battle with depression, it’s nice knowing that there are others out there. That we’re not alone. And that we’re not crazy for not being able to go get ice cream and watch a funny movie and get over it.

    I am proud of you for going out there and spending the day with your daughter even though it’s not what depression wanted you to do. I know how hard that is, and I know you don’t know me, but I am still so very proud.

  105. I recently had a HORRIBLE panic attack, one that washed over me like a tsunami wave and dragged me under. It threatened to take me out to sea. But I picked up your book, wrapped myself up in a blanket, and cried as I read.

    I’m crying as I write this. Your words and story kept me from going under. THANK YOU, for me and my family.

  106. This post brought tears to my eyes. You are a beautiful soul, and I can’t imagine what this world would be like without you in it. Victor and Hailey (who is adorable!) are very lucky people. Although I don’t know what it is to suffer from depression, I’ve had issues with other things, and it always helps to talk about it, and to find out that you aren’t alone. It’s inspiring that you are so open to talk about your difficulties and to share them with people so they know that they aren’t the only ones struggling to make it to the next day. You and your readers have blessed the lives of so many, and I hope everyone continues to remind themselves that no matter how bad it may seem, there are always people out there who wouldn’t know what to do without them in thier lives and will do what it takes to get them through their rough patches until they can enjoy the sun again.

  107. There’s great power to the knowledge that “It’s Not Just Me”… Knowing that you are not alone in situations where you feel like you’re the only person who has ever been in that situation is absolutely life-changing.

    There is no doubt in my mind that you and this community have saved more than 20 people… as someone else said, there are 20 that wrote and told you. There are 20(0?00?) more who decided to live but couldn’t tell ANYONE that they had even made that decision. Carry on, good Lady! The Tribe of Intellectual Misfits has got your back!

  108. Sweet Hailey! And way to go, mom! It’s pretty awesome you were able to push it aside so Hailry could still have the best time!

  109. I heart you, Jenny.

    Someone should ground Depression. Like, put it in the corner, take away its phone privileges and nintendo time until it changes its ways. I’m growing tired of its shit, and all the lying.

  110. And THIS is why I read your blog. You get me. You help me. I wish you were my next door neighbor.

  111. I just love all of you people.

    Depression lies. It always lies. And it’s sneaky, and sometimes manages to get other people (who don’t understand depression) to tell you the same lies. Gives it some veracity. They’re still goddamn lies.

  112. You truly are an inspiration to me. I have suffered from depression for most of my adult life. I have been alone for most of it. I’m a 33 year old single woman with no children. I work two jobs, own my home and car. I live in rural MN with no hope of ever finding someone to share my life with… So I work all the time because besides that, and reading your blog it’s about the only thing that keeps me from ending this endless cycle i am stuck in. Day after day, the same thing, work one job, then the second, then read, then sleep, then it starts all over again…. i’m weak, I have my down days, and I still think about just disappearing most of the time. No one would notice if I was gone… except maybe my employer….after all who would cover his ass while he’s gone?

  113. Depression does lie. God knows how wonderful it was to read that phrase here, for me, awhile back.

    You do help people – not just in providing a space on the web where others can go to get confirmation that they aren’t alone in what they are going thru, which is so great, but also because you make people laugh. I can depend upon you to make me laugh, and geez sometimes that’s unbelievably important.

    And yes, it is too so important. For everyone, not just those fighting what Churchill called the black dog.

    Which I hate, by the way, since I have two wonderful black dogs. Why he didn’t use black weasels or black moles or black slimy eels I don’t know. Black slimy eel, now THAT I identify with. Okay, I digress.

    It is amazing to me that your blog has saved 20 people. I’m honored to even read this blog, be able to write a comment. My mind boggles, my eyes tear up … I’ll think more on this later.

    What I’m doing here, now, is trying to send you waves of encouragement. Give back a bit in some teensy way.

    You’re not alone. Everything is going to be alright. Tomorrow is another day. They still make chocolate. Taco Cabana is not that far and they have a 24 hour drive thru.

    Vote for fluke.

    I remember after two weeks of horrific stress my now ex-husband planned this big trip to Napa Valley within 72 hours of my last law school final exam – no thought about where I wanted to go, or when would be a good time for me – and I went. Went without comment. Exhausted on the way, practically comatose and incoherent on the way back. The plane ride to and from San Antonio to San Francisco almost had me calling the men with white coats from those little handsets in the seats.

    I learned piles from that. Pile of events or stress or whatever. I avoid piles now. Reading this post, DisneyWorld is wonderful after all the book touring, tho I bet I had lots more wine in Napa Valley but a pile is a pile and geez. Hon, you need a nap.

    Cheese too would be good. Hey, what happened to that cheesecake eggroll? (Why aren’t you selling those babies on the site? You could be on QVC.)

    Enough. I’m rambling and I’m going to read this mess and decide whether or not to send it. If you get this, I will have overcome potential embarrassment and well, … fear (I’m writing OneofMyFavoriteAuthors here) … to try and throw in my own little attempt at making you feel better. To help you fight the Black Slimy Eel.

    Depression lies and it just flat out sucks, too. Fluke! Fluke is good.

    God bless you, Bloggess.

    PS Your child is beautiful.

  114. You are an amazing, wonderful woman and mother! And I love those pictures of Hailey. You just cannot look at them and not smile!

  115. Depression is an every day battle for me but knowing I’m not alone makes it bearable. Thank you for your honesty and for this great blog that makes me laugh and for bringing us all together.

  116. I’ve never commented before but I wanted to say thank you…reading your posts reminds me constantly that depression does lie and that there are so many others out there. Your red dress campaign was/is utterly brilliant and I love it.

    (I also love puddle jumping and love seeing how happy my son is to play in puddles too!)

  117. This post hit me right when I needed it. Thank you for showing me I’m not alone either.

  118. Each time you post a new blog I try into an excited school girl and can’t wait to read it. I just finished your book and I can’t remember the last time (if ever) I laughed and cried so hard over and over because of a book. The best part of it all? It isn’t how funny and witty you are (even though you are damn funny and witty.) It is because you are REAL! Your honesty in your writing does far more than entertain people, you inspire people. I have fought with depression most of my adult life, out of the blue my mother tried to commit suicide a year and half ago (thank God she is still here and getting the help she needs), now I am struggling with infertility issues. YOU and your writing have helped me face these issues head on. (I am sure many friends would look at me strange if they heard me say this. I hear it now “The big metal chicken lady helped you with depression? Are you using drugs and not the legal kind?”) But it is true. I just hope some day I can be brave enough to be as honest with the tough stuff on my blog so that by chance I too can help pay it forward in my own quirky way!

  119. As always, your honesty and and straight-forward views (without peripheral vision, apparently!) are always refreshing. It’s so important for everyone to understand that sometimes it’s ok to not be ok, and it you aren’t ok for too long, there are options. I think one of my biggest defenses is to always remember that things are temporary. It doesn’t solve the problem, but it makes it a little more manageable.

  120. I loved seeing the pictures on Twitter of Hailey! She looks so damn happy.

    Depression lies. If you need to lay in bed, then I say lay in bed. I don’t know what that deep, dark place is like but I am willing to sit with you while you’re there with a case (machine? bottles? cans? clap your hands?) of wine slushies.

  121. Next time I have a panic attack, I am going to go outside, set the hose so I can pretend it’s raining, and jump in the puddles and catch water in my mouth. I bet it works better than Xanax which turns me into a raving bitch for three days after I take it. Thanks for the great idea Hailey!

    And Jenny – thanks for the beautiful post. And to the 20 – so glad you are still with us. My college roommate is not and I miss her every day. To everyone suffering – even if you think no one would notice – someone would. Jenny would. I would. The rest of us would. We want you here. That’s true. Depression is lying, but we’re not.

  122. Your blog (and now your book) are my own little rain puddles and cholera-infested rain drops of happiness. So thank you.

  123. Just found my way out of one of what we call my “bad patches”. I’ve suffered from depression and anxiety for pretty much my entire life; the meds help immensely but every now and then they’re just not enough. Thank god my husband and two beautiful daughters are understanding and are always there when I come out the other side. Jenny, you’re a beautiful person and you’ve helped me understand just how not-alone I am :). Oh, and by the way, I’m a riot…

  124. i guess i’m one of the lucky ones — lucky ’cause depression doesn’t visit me or plague me like it does so many others. in point of fact, i refer to myself as High Priestess of Happy, Church of Yay, actually, which probably annoys the shit out of some people, but it’s true: i can’t help my Pollyanna Disorder, it’s just part of me. So it does me so much good to read you, to be reminded of how hard and dark and bleak things can be — to consider what is for me such a different way of being. Mostly I wish I could magically transport you to my house, to sit outside in the garden with me and eat cookies and drink tea with lots of sugar in it and just bliss out on how gorgeous things can be, on the outside of what’s going on inside our funny little minds. Big love to you for your courage and for always, always keeping it real. XO

  125. *sigh* I look at her and I remember what it was like being at DW when I was 6 and I want that back again. I don’t think I was quite as furiously happy as Hailey there; I don’t know that I really ever was. Not fully. Maybe. Shit, who knows. I’m 35. That was nearly 30 years ago. I can’t remember last month.

    Keep plugging, Jenny. We love you. You love us. It’s a big damn Barney festival of love.

  126. First, sorry about Beryl…we Floridians are used to that nonsense, but as Texans, you had to be gazing around glassy-eyed occasionally going “WTF’s all this wet stuff?!” Second, whose bright idea was it to plan a significant family vacation right after you gallavanted all over a small chunk of the US, spreading your life force? Someone who knows you should have stepped back and said, “wow, yea, nice idea, but you need to spend a week in bed first…and endure wine slushies on command.”

    We love you, Jenny! So many of us have been where you are and know that when all you can do is function, it is OK because eventually you will be able to do more than that…Sending virtual hugs from another silver ribboned sister!

  127. There isn’t a day where I don’t want to give you a probably inappropriate and lingering hug. Xo for fighting the fight and knowing you will dance in the rain again.

  128. You made me tear up. My husband suffers from depression. And you should know that reading your blog often helps him out of it, opens him up to the light again. So thank you.

    We had our honeymoon in Disneyworld. It’s an over priced but still very magical experience everyone should have…

  129. Oh my dear, that bitch depression lies and lies and lies – you are loved, and you are not alone. J x

  130. Amen…Once I finally accepted that no mother should be this exhausted all of the time, and that no one should want to hide at the end of the day in her bed, hoping for absolutely no interaction from anyone for at least 10 hours, I was able to accept the fact that I might need a little help. With the help of some meds and plenty of talking, I am a much better mother and wife. Not to mention, just feeling a ton better. Depression is a real illness that strikes without much warning. I have fought it on and off throughout my adult life, and I have to admit, it was one of your posts that actually helped me ask for help again. I am feeling happy and balanced these days. I know all too well that it will strike again, but I am ready to recognize it for what it is, and I have a wonderful, supportive husband and family. Hope you are feeling better soon, and thanks for all you do to make people more aware.

  131. Your daughter is totally awesome! Trust a kid to have fun when you think they possibly cant! As a person suffering from mild depression, and having a really hard time of it, I find it hard to imagine it being worse than what I have. It is pretty inspirational to hear you go through these bouts, and come out fighting. I love reading your blog. It makes me laugh, and it makes me cry. If you sink into it, and puch your way out, come see us! We will be waiting for you!

  132. Such a touching post, those of us suffering from depression know exactly how you feel. Luckily I was put on anti-depressants years ago and they work fairly well for me. I tell my docs they will wean me off them when they pull them from my cold, dead fingers. That is the difference they make in my life. It isn’t all sunshine and butterflies but it sure keeps the darkness at bay. Hang in there.

  133. First, I’d like to apologize on behalf of Florida for the hurricane-y weather. I cancelled my cable last year so this is my first hurricane season w/o the Weather Channel telling me what’s up, so let me just say, I was as shocked as you were to find my Monday full of random rainstorms.

    Second, you are amazing. I probably should have said this one first. I’m glad you find reasons to laugh in spite of and because of the rain, and I’m glad you’re able to remember that depression lies. And if you’ve got 20 e-mails you’ve saved showing that 20 lives have been saved because of your blog, I’d have to say that you’re probably number 21. You found a way to be yourself and to spread love and support to people who need it. I feel like your blog saved you just as much it it’s saved others, and that’s pretty spectacular. 🙂

  134. Jenny, you’re raising an amazing girl. You both are amazing. So glad you are who you are and that you do what you do.

  135. im glad you took the time to write even if you wernt quite feeling it. depression and anxiety is a tough thing and the higher stress your job/blog/just being your amazing self becomes the more it wants to rear its ugly little head.. but no matter what bring you down, you are a go getter and you have accomplished a great deal. just make sure as you are planning your next venture/signing/book you take time for yourself becasue sometimes a moment to breath and scream at the world is what it takes to keep us afloat.

  136. I know you won’t believe it when it’s said, but everyone is here because of you. It’s not just severe problems who you help, it’s the every day person too. Thank you, for being you.

  137. I love rain, but sometimes I have to remind myself that I love it. Kind of the same way that I have to remind myself that things will be okay and I’ll be happy again.

  138. Your openness and sharing about depression and other forms of mental illness and ripping the shame and isolation off them is so important. (And I just finished your audio book and I am seriously sad that it is over. It helped me laugh at life — and taxidermy — and has been my favorite part of my days recently.)

  139. Is it okay that I tell you that I fucking love you? Even though you don’t know who I am at all?

    We had a Disneyland day full of rain. Was one of our best damn days the entire trip. Sometime the gloom allows the awesome to shine through.

  140. I am simply humbled by your courage, your honesty and your words.

    Also, I will probably be pulled over soon for cackling like a hyena alone in my car listening to “Let’s Pretend This Never Happened”

    Thank you for all of it!

  141. I have never had depression and I’m hoping I will never have. I am basically a happy person and realize that although I read you I will never really understand fully or relate exactly to what you say. But what I do understand are the huge efforts you make, the struggle and the fighting. And the courage. And for that I praise you, I stand up before you all suffering and send you all my love, my strength, my support and above all, my admiration

  142. This post is 5 kinds of awesome, Jenny. Thank you so much for being a depression spokesperson for us.

    When my depression hits, I remind myself that the things depression says are not only lies, but they aren’t even really about me – they are really just a symptom of a disease that I experience from time to time. At least, I try to remember that. When my stomach is sick, it throws up it’s contents (not my fault). When my brain is sick, it throws out it’s yucky stuff, too (also not my fault).


  143. I read this blog post today, and then I read it out loud for my wife & daughter. There were a few moments when I had to stop and collect myself, a fact which both touched and amused my daughter simultaneously. None of us suffer from depression, but your posts have given me an insight that more people should have. You and your blog commenters aren’t just helping those who suffer from depression. You’re helping the rest of us be better, more understanding people.

  144. I love, love, love the series of picts with Hailey spinning. Really cool. 🙂

    And thank you for writing a blog that makes us laugh in the face of our own depression. That folder right there is one reason this type of community is so very important to so many of us. And “depression lies” is one of the simplest, most accurate descriptions of what it’s like to live with it. “Don’t leave” is also very simple and yet incredibly powerful.

    Yay for splashing in puddles at Disney World! That’s awesome.

  145. Depression totally lies. Hailey is full of win. And I am just imagining all the bugs that must be swallowed every year by kids on Disney’s cups…

  146. You rock. You make me laugh. All. The. Time. Because of you metal chickens hold a special place in my heart. Be down if you need to be, just bounce right back up, because you make a big difference for all of us.

  147. This post threw me…the whole time I’m reading it expecting the F word or a joke. I got none of that, and yet I walk away from reading it feeling thankful that it is out there. I don’t have depression, have never contemplated suicide, and I have no children. But I thank you for writing about this and sharing because…well if I ever did, I would know I wasn’t alone.

  148. Today was a crying day for me. One of those days where it seems the entire world is on my shoulders and I would be crushed under the pressure. I cried, I stressed, I worried, I wanted to scream, to punish myself for being weak, or stupid or simply just not good enough to resolve all of my issues. After all of this, I gave in and fell to my knees and asked God to help me, so I didn’t have to do it alone….and here you ALL are. We are not alone in this. Thank you for giving us a voice. God bless.

  149. I don’t have depression and I don’t know much about it (though I can certainly share long stories with you about clinical anxiety) so I don’t really understand when it’s ok to be funny and make jokes and where it becomes counterproductive. What I have to say isn’t a joke anyway, it’s actually a very serious matter and, frankly, time critical. I wanted to point out to you that as you may be approaching a serious bout of depression we may or may not be at the beginning of the zombie apocalypse. See any recent headlines on MSNBC, CNN, etc. about the incident in Florida. I know it’s an issue near and dear to your heart. I just wanted to say that if you do find yourself in the holds of a crippling bout of depression, we’ll try to hold down the fort while you’re down but we’re going to need you if indeed the apocalypse is upon us.

  150. Thank you for speaking so frankly about depression. Too many people don’t understand that it’s so much more than just being “unhappy.” I am fortunate enough not to have depression myself, but I’ve seen what it can and has done to my best friend, and it can be terrifying. Just remember, Disney is a magical place – it even makes the rain seem like a plaything! The fact that you were still able to appreciate your daughter’s joy tells me that you’ll be ok.

    PS – I see Hailey is a pin collector! I have a rather large and embarrassing collection myself. I’d love to send her one (or five…)

  151. Thanks again love. It is like you write what is going on inside my head! And you are so right…community helps!

  152. Goodness your peripheral vision issues make me wonder if there are migraine-related issues to all of this. I know about wanting to stay in bed and wanting just as fiercely to get up and run around with my children. These days the latter win out and that makes me happy–but it wasn’t always that way–and it takes continuous work and faith to keep trying. Thanks for flying the flag my friend. Sometimes it’s not the most beautiful one, but it’s damn colorful.

  153. I’ve been a reader of your blog since I stumbled upon your Beyonce post and caused a scene in my office cube-land from laughing louder than the white noise they pipe in. I started following your blog because you make me laugh. I keep reading your blog because you are able to put words to what I feel way too often. I also suffer from depression and have toyed with suicide too many times (starting way back in elementary school I’m sorry to say). Thank you for showing that fun, awesome, normal people have this debilitating, hard-to-explain THING. This heaviness that causes every muscle to ache and my brain to become coated in storm clouds. But, I’m thankful to say, no matter how unbearable the weight is, the sun is ALWAYS lurking, waiting to come out! Beams of sunlight will soon tickle their way through the clouds to shine the truth that this bout of depression, like the last one and like the next one, will have an end. And when it ends, your blog is here to say “I’m struggling too” while also providing a source of hilarity for the sun beams to stream from. Thank you

  154. Sometimes the depression make the laughing better. Some of my best,most out of control moments of laughter have happened in midst of a bout of depression. I think that the “I don’t care” chemical releases the control that doesn’t let us fully laugh. We usually laugh politely and within socially acceptable norms. But sometimes we just let go and all the emotion is out in the laughter. And its good. Its exhausting, but its good.
    Its also rare. Because its hard to find the path to the laughter when you are caught in the abyss of depression.

  155. I love that you can shed light on depression to help get rid of the stigma. I know it makes me feel closer to others who suffer as I do. It helps us all.

  156. thanks for sharing such an meaningful post. My husband has also battled bouts of severe depression over the last 11 years, and it really does help knowing that others share the battle, and that we can all get through it. Hope that this isn’t a big bout for you, but just a little glitch **hugs**

  157. Your posts make me laugh so hard I cry. Then I share them with other people at work, who sit at their desks and laugh and cry. You are quite simply good karma rippling through the world. Thanks for being you and bringing hope to others by sharing your laughter and your hardship. You’re unique, but not alone.

  158. Hailey is absolutely beautiful. Her smile lit me up and that is JUST what I needed today.
    Thank you for being there for all of us. Depression does lie and you have reminded me that “every little things gonna be allll-right.

  159. I love this post and I love you. I’m praying this will pass quickly for you, and that you will trust what you know and hear and have learned from others and not what your mind and depression tells you. She is indeed beautiful, just like you.

  160. I’ve never felt like I belong anywhere more than I feel like I belong here. Thanks to you and to all the commenter mice and even to all the lurkers for that sweet feeling.

  161. I know that this blog is one of the only things that helped me earlier this year when I was going through my small mental breakdown. I kept reading your blog and all the comments and thinking that if all these people can go through this kind of crap and still get up and make lives for themselves and their families, so can I. Your blog kept me holding on and kept me fighting for myself when doctors tried to say that I was imagining it or that I was just crazy. I knew that something was wrong and fought to get the help that I needed. I’m much better now, I have bad days, everyone does. But on my bad days I read this blog and the heartfelt posts about your struggle and comments from others are like a digital hug to keep going. And the funny ones are a reminder that I have to keep laughing. Laugh or cry, right? Love you and everyone else on here. {DIGITAL HUG}

  162. This right here? Is why I admire you. Yes, you’re funny. But you’re also human and you share that. You let us in to the shadows behind the smile. And you do it to help and to heal. That’s the best part of your work…your desire to help others learn to stomp in the puddles and remember the sun will come back out some day! Thank you for that, Lady!

  163. Godspeed Jenny. And I mean that from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for all that you’ve done.

  164. Thank you for being so honest about your depression. As someone who’s battled PPD as well anxiety, I’m always grateful when I see other kick ass women (yes, I said “other” because I am rather kick ass myself – thanks for noticing) coming out of the mental illness closet and leaving the doors wide open so that everyone can see that hey, it looks a lot like my closet except maybe there are more black clothes – and is that an emo wig? Providing a platform for people to say “me too” is essential. Everyone’s voice then adds strength to the choir. And before long, we’re fucking superheroes because we’re saving lives. 20 lives! And probably many more who didn’t email you because they were busy making soup or something (which is something alive people do, so that’s a good sign.)

    You don’t have to be funny all the time. Just be you. Be authentic, because authentic you is pretty great.

    PS: Your daughter is beautiful 🙂

  165. Your daughter is one gorgeous and furiously happy girl. And she is blessed to have you for a Mom.

    You gave me the courage to openly talk about my depression on my itty bitty blog. You have no idea that you did, but you did. So, thanks. And depression is a lying, hateful bastard. You have literally millions of people who love you and whose lives you’ve affected in a completely positive way. Remember that when it gets dark, because it’s true.

  166. You are amazing. You have made me laugh. You can make me cry. I cry because I’ve been there, because I know, because I’m terrified it’ll happen again. Depression does lie. Thank you for posting this!

  167. I can’t express how much I needed to hear that today. I’ve been having a rough week, month really. Thank you for always being so open and honest.

  168. Thank you!! I have mental illness and am facing a battle for my teen son’s health. He has a condition that will require brain surgery, but until then he suffers chronic pain. I was wallowing in a little freak out self pity party, and I still am, but I’m picturing you in the corner with me, giggling a little over guac and chips. Thanks again – couldn’t have come at a better time this week.

  169. That was the most eloquently put depression description I’ve ever heard. And so perfectly summed up. Thanks for the reminder.
    Depression, anxiety, combo-packs and hybrids of the two devils have been a part of my life for over ten years. I’m (slowly) learning to come to terms and trying not to let the tail wag the dog.
    Thanks, Jenny

  170. I am glad you have a Hailey in your life.

    I still haven’t been able to fully embrace the notion that depression lies, but I am too tired to argue against it. All I know is I hear those words on a loop in my head. “Don’t Leave” and it’s working. Good things have been happening lately. I am just waiting for the inside of my brain to catch up so I can enjoy them.

    I love the pictures of your daughter’s smile on her face. I can close my eyes and hear her laughing. It reminds me of those happier times and it comforts just enough to get through, so thanks for sharing.

  171. My peripheral vision fades when I’m anxious. Is it bad I’m happy we have this in common…?

  172. Thank you for your bravery in posting this. Having that courage to be candid and real is what helps so many others know they are not alone — and ultimately saves some of them. Thank you for that. I know how hard it is when people think you are so funny when you are just feeling in a dark place and very unfunny. It tires me to my bones during some of those times to try and fake it and slap a smile on my face and be the person that everyone expects me to be when nothing inside of me feels connected to that person.

  173. I have been there. I hate that I just think I’ve finally gotten to be “normal” and then another bout of depression creeps in, its insidiousness making it almost invisible until I just start to feel a twinge of something wrong. I just am more cranky, more tired, more stressed, I wake up early early with my mind racing the minute I am conscious. I hate it. But you are so right, there is help and it DOES get better. When it gets better, I appreciate it SO much, my life. And we just keep riding the ride.

  174. Aww she’s so cute and I’m glad that she was able to see beauty in the rain! I adore this blog post 🙂

  175. My words will be buried in the piles and piles of them left here for you, but sometimes saying it is the point. Your words and your courage inspire me in ways I’d forgotten, and for that I thank YOU. Giving a voice to Depression (how does it still have a stigma attached?!) is hard and beautiful and you make me want to add words to this battle so many of us share. Thank you for sharing the sides of yourself that linger along the darker edges…it’s recognizing that that gives people hope that they are just that…edges, and not the whole shebang.

    Thanks, Jenny. You kick ridiculous ass.
    All the best.

  176. Your daughter smiles with all her teeth, not just a peep of tooth. Wide, open lips for laughter to vault from, running loose. You’ve done well with her.

    And, you’ve done well with yourself. Depression is like that lousy, lying, money-borrowing ex-boyfriend that shows up every now and then, still wanting to punish you for walking away from him. Keep walking away, Bloggess. Crawl if you must, but keep moving away.

    Remember, you are admired.

  177. YAAAYYY!!! Glorious post. I am counting the days until you get better (this post was still funny, btw), and I am counting the days until your daughter makes a full recovery from her bout with Cholera.
    godspeed, antidepressants and anti-cholera meds.

  178. Were you just there this past weekend? So was I! If you were in the Magic Kingdom on Saturday or Animal Kingdom on Sunday, let me know.

  179. Tears. Of joy, of understanding, of sorrow but not of shame. Thank you for always sharing the deep, dark stuff too. And then lining it with silver and reminding us that we can all help one another and, often, we don’t even know that just being who we are- flaws exposed for all to see- is sometimes the best way to be a superhero.

  180. This brought tears to my eyes…. in a good way :). I love you and your blog and this community.

    Also, Hailey has such a gorgeous smile!!! I love how genuinely happy she is in these photos. 😀

  181. Depression Lies, I have to remember that!! Thanks for the giggles, there are days that they help people, (me), get by! Your daighter is lovely!!

    Is it OK if I get a discount by ordering your book for my Kindle??

  182. I always read your posts out loud, and so often I do with a giant lump in my throat- like today.
    You always say the exact truth. Thank you.
    And fuck that lying depression. It’s not going to beat you or me.

  183. I am on the ledge. Figuratively, for the moment. I fear literally soon, but I have the bracelet & I wear it to try to remember what I sometimes know to be true—depression lies.

  184. Oh, I meant to say that I work there seasonally (like this past weekend), and if you took pictures with any characters on those days, to let me know.

  185. I took my three children to Disney at Christmas. Call it temporary insanity. I am a Type A+++++++ person, which means I wasn’t going to be happy unless my children RODE ALL THE RIDES, damnit. That was impossible, of course. On the second day, I realized my children were having fun just BEING at Disney, seeing the parades, seeing the characters and that the rides JUST DIDN’T MATTER to them. I stopped stressing and enjoyed our time, standing in lines waiting for the characters, watching the parades for the hundredth time and just enjoyed the time with the children, while we had it……

  186. Thank you for talking so openly about your struggles with depression. I lost my cousin to suicide several years ago, and I wish I could have found a way to tell him that depression was being a fucking liar and that he was loved and good and like a big brother to me. But he kept his head down and didn’t let my entire side of the family know he was struggling because he was ashamed. Depression is nothing to be ashamed of, and you talking about it will help others–like those 20 emailers–to remember that depression fucking lies.

    Thank you.

  187. I’m totally going to misquote this: “Depression isn’t a sign of weakness, it’s a sign we’ve tried to be strong on our own for too long.”

    This quote I know I got right: “We are not alone.” – X-Files

    : ( :

  188. You are amazing!! When I grow up I wanna be just like you! No, seriously…nevermind that I’m older than you…that has nothing to do with it! =

    Thank you…for your blog, your book, your frank open-ness…for being you!!

  189. This is quite timely. I just went to my Dr. today so I can finally get some medical help with my very draining depression. My kids would like me to be HERE with them, not laying in bed, or hiding online. I want to be present, so..wish me luck.

  190. Thank you for you and this post and this blog. I’m headed down into that dark hole again right now after being out for only a short while. The medication makes the times out longer but I still go back time and again. It’s scary. It’s unfair to my family and friends. My husband is scared of what goes on in my brain because he got a hold of my journal once by accident. My son doesn’t understand why Momma doesn’t want to or can’t play. one friend doesn’t understand that I can’t just think awesome thoughts. She doesn’t understand why I can’t think of my own self worth or see how I’m awesome because all I see is my mental disorders standing between me and other people. Other people don’t get me because of depression, anxiety, and bi polar disorder. But… I’ll help anyone at all. E-mail me:

  191. First off I have to say you have a beautiful daughter and I am glad she was able to enjoy the rain! Secondly, I have to say how much you move me with your honest posts. I do not have depression but I know people who do. I know the pain they deal with regularly and to see someone come out of the darkness that is cast over this and shed some light on the topic is truly wonderful.

    Thank you for being wonderful and for giving us tears, whether because you are moving us with your words or making us cry from laughter it’s all amazing.

  192. We are rebuilding each other through this blog. I have had anxiety and eating disorders strip me of ten years of my life. After two years of treatment I finally feel like I am coming up for air. I love this community that Jenny has nurtured and love that so many people are able to drop their feelings of shame and secrecy through this blog. The most amazing thing to me is that at our weakest moments we find reserves of strength that we didn’t know we had to help one another. We are strong in each other. We are far from alone.

  193. I really needed this post today. I did everything in my power to force myself to come into work today, but Depression is still hanging on tight and I feel completely empty. I want nothing more than to return to my bed and cry myself to sleep.

    I won’t. I’ll keep telling myself that Depression is whispering lies.


  194. Beautifully put. You don’t give yourself enough credit for all the laughter you bring and the joy you help us find in the everyday. Thank YOU.

  195. Depression does lie, but it is not always so easy to realize that depression is talking as it just sits in the back of your head and whispers lie after lie to you and it is hard to hear, so you focus a little on it to hear what the whispers are, then a little more and more, listening less to the real world and more to the whispers that are starting to make more sense the more you can hear them, then suddenly you’ve leaned too far to listen in even better and fall over into the black hole that is depression.

    It is better when you can ignore the whispers and listen to loved ones, but not always possible. For those times that you are in your dark hole, just remember you are your own light and can see the handholds to climb out. Or get yourself some more friends to put the light back in your smile – saw this and thought of you: She also has a Zombie Pinup page – Good stuff. Made me smile. Hope it does for you as well.

  196. I read your blog almost religiously but I never left a reply before because I have no experience with depression whatsoever, and thank the gods about that! But today I am really moved with what you wrote. Thanks to you I can maybe have a bit of an idea of what this is, and thanks to you maybe some day I can help someone by saying something you taught me, so thank you!

  197. Your daughter is so damn adorable, which I’ve said like 50 million times before but it never stops being true. And you are adorable, too, even when you don’t feel like it. I’m so happy I found your blog, so happy you are here writing it, whether you feel like it or not. I failed at blogging because when depression hit me, I clammed up. I admire the strength and the courage it takes to talk when you don’t feel like it. You’ve affected so many lives, made so many people happy, and the world is a better place because you’re in it. <3

  198. First off, you have raised that girl to be wildly confident and beautifully happy! Second your blog has brought so many happy moments into my life. It has provoked so many thoughts and helped me understand my own mother and what she has pushed through to raise my self and my two fantastic little brothers. And it has inspired me to really work on my writing. I take so much inspiration from the writers I love and you’re one of them, right next to C.S. Lewis and Neil Gaiman. Thank you!

  199. This is so very true. You’ll never know the impact you have on someone with a seemingly meaningless touch, word, or in this case, comment. Both good and bad. Keep doing what you do, girl.

  200. I love those pictures of Hailey, she’s having such a good time!
    Thank you very much for being so honest about your depression. I think it’s important that we all talk to each other, inspire each other, remind each other that we’re not alone, that we’re not the only ones suffering… and that we can look depression in the face and come out the other side. Thank you for all you do and all that you are xx

  201. I needed this today. My 13 yr old daughter has started to self harm/mutilate and on Monday required a police escort to the hospital for evaluation. I am scared shitless not only becuase of her but because I am dealing with my own dark episode. Both of these things separately are scary, together they are daunting and has made me doubt whether or not I can get to through to the other side. I needed this today. I needed this today. I needed this today…..I am printing it out and will carry it with me so I can convince myself that we will both be ok because today, I just don’t know.

  202. I’m so tired of the pills and people who treat me like I’m going to fall apart at any moment. Worse – the people who look at me like I’m some sort of repulsive freak because of my depression and mania. They all love me when I’m funny and manic and falling of the cliff. Some love me even more when I hit rock bottom because it gives them something to fix. I saw how manic depression effected my Dad and how he never told anyone he was manic because of the shame. People thought he was a character with a lot of hobbies. He wasn’t. Those were the manic episodes when he couldn’t control himself and his mania manifested into thousands of dollars spent on new “hobbies”. Now I worry about my kids. Which will be doomed to carry this awful illness. I already see the signs in my eldest. The medicines are a love hate relationship. They keep me going and help the darkness recede but I am forever tethered to those little pills. I am no more in control of my life on them than off of them. But I’d rather live this way than not at all. But I can relate. Sometimes – when I’m at the top of my game is when the damned disease hits me the hardest. And then I feel worse because I worry that I’m ruining the moment for everyone else. What’s it like to be on the other side? To be someone whose body & mind don’t betray them? To not have this constant see-saw. I wonder if it is peaceful and sunny. I would envy that.

  203. You are blessed with many gifts Jenny, not the least of which is the knowledge that you’ve saved the lives of those 20 people. And we are blessed that you share that knowledge, furthering the spread of goodwill, kinship, and love. Many of us will never know the impact we have had on others in our lives; how every small choice may change our course – or someone else’s – forever. What a gift to know that because of your honesty, bravery, and eloquence those 20 (and likely countless others) have chosen hope.

  204. I’m so glad that your little girl was able to have so much fun despite there being no so great weather. I’ve been thinking about you guys and how you were doing! I know that you’ll be okay because you know that you’ll be okay. You’re an amazingly strong woman that I look up to more than you know. I hope to see more pictures soon and Jenny, always remember that life’s not about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain. I think Hailey’s got it down. I just love you and your family. Keep staying strong, girl. Much love and happy thoughts your way. *HUGS*

  205. Amazing writing; even more amazing insight. Thank you for sharing so much of yourself. I’ve struggled with depression for 20 years or so, and still can’t admit it’s a mental illness. It’s just depression, so what? You have helped me so much to learn to look at my difficulties in a different way. Thank you for that. And thank you for this post. As others have said, there are probably many more than the 20 people who wrote to you who were saved by your blog.

  206. I have been feeling a spiral myself lately, trying to fight it. I should be out tonight with friends for a special night, I just could not rally. I didn’t even really want to try. So I will jump in bed early and hope it is better tomorrow. Thank you for being you, for helping us all know we are not alone.

  207. ROCK ON! (Hey, I’m a classic rock DJ, itsa what I do!) And you, my darhlink, rock! Now, go eat some Pizza.

  208. I have bipolar disorder and my husband has chronic depression. We don’t talk about it to anyone else, because they would think differently of us. It would hurt our business and personal relationships.

    When people hear that someone famous and creative has a mental illness, they think it’s okay, and “normal” for a celebrity. When they hear that a non-celebrity has a mental illness, they think they’re crazy, unreliable, and should be locked up. Thanks for being one of the people who is working to rid us all of that stigma.

  209. You made me cry. Thank you.

    I’m almost through your book right now and loving it. Sure, its making me laugh, but I also appreciate knowing that I’m not the only one that struggles with relating to people. It feels good to know.

  210. Thank you for writing about depression for those of us who do not have it. Until reading your descriptions about what it feels like I have to say that I had NO idea what it must be like. For those who are continually sunny, it’s good to know how the other half feels.

    Also this explains why my blog is not funny and just barely interesting at all!!

  211. Much, much love. To you, to me, and to everyone else who needs it.

  212. Me too.
    I never thought there were people out there like me but now I know there are so many. I choose to live without meds because I hated the way they made me feel so I just hope the bad days outnumber the good. I am learning when the depression kicks in and trying to combat it but it never really works so I sleep till it vanishes. It never really vanishes though. It’s like herpes. You can’t always see it but it’s waiting to come back.

  213. I wish I could give you a big hug and make things better but I know from personal experience that it doesn’t work that way. You are an inspiration to me and make me feel like I can be proud of just being who I am…weirdness, sadness, illness and all.

    Thank you

  214. I was one step away from a highway and massive, fast 18 one would notice another big bug smudge on a truck, no one would care…but who would care for my animals if I did take that step? So I turned around and walked back down the driveway…and the warmth of my cats and called the VA for help.
    It is a daily fight, and your book has helped a great deal…it makes me laugh!!!
    PTSD sucks, as does depression and anger over MST ( military sexual tauma).
    I keep going because I will not give up to the Beast…I will fight every day, because life is about learning to dance in the rain!!
    Thanks for your post today and all the wonderfully understanding replies..It IS nice to know I am not the only one!
    Take care!

  215. Depression does lie. It’s like anti-rose colored glasses. I’ve learned to really appreciate the little things all the time, but even more so when I’m dealing with a bout depression. The little things that make me smile even the smallest smiles, because it’s still something to push back against the gloom. I search out pretty things & funny things, listen to happy or silly music (old Saturday morning cartoon theme songs are amazing for this), and I try to act goofy, even if I’m all by myself or hanging out with the cat (how she puts up with her weird mother, I’ll never know). Part of how I dress myself has a lot to do with my depression, because I will totally wear a silly tee or green eye shadow, because it makes me feel happier and I am a firm believer that wearing nail polish in whatever shade you want is a form of color therapy that you can take with you anywhere you go.

    So keep doing what you’re doing, because you’ve got the right of it. I always say that I may not good at getting myself better faster, but at least I can let other know that they are not alone and tell them what I know in hopes that it will help them as much, or even more so, as it helps me. It’s a little something that I can do that makes me feel better.

    PS: Next time it rains here, I think I will run outside to jump in puddles & catch raindrops on my tongue. I haven’t done that in a long time, though I did run through sprinklers often when walking how from late night grocery shopping & I do like walking in the rain.

  216. It’s very natural to have a really low low after such an incredible high like your book being published and being on the NY Times Bestseller list. I was wondering when that might hit you.

    Like you said, depression lies. It’s amazing how many people have come out on your blog and said yes, me too, keep going, you can do it. And your video log helped me so much. I cried when you said you wanted me around (yes, I took that personally!)

    Hailey looks incredibly furiously happy and for that, you can bask in the glow of knowing you are getting motherhood right.

    Sorry about the hurricane. It really sucks when you plan a vacation and it gets rained and hurricaned out.

    Keep on taking that next breath. It will get better again.

  217. thank you. all i can say is thank you and me too. i too can be funny and crazy and silly- that is my natural and healthy personality. however, sometimes i’m just hiding, surviving, drifting. very few see my pain. thank you for making me feel like i am in good company.

  218. Recognition. That’s what I (and so many others) have when we read this. I’ve been following this crazy tour you’re on and thinking, she’s got to be f-ing exhausted. At the end of every semester (grad school, PhD, teaching, single Mom, mid-law suit with douchy ex, blah, blah, bs) I collapse and get depressed — in spite of the great meds that work well the rest of the time. Crawl through because I know that I’ll eventually be fine again.

    I’m also reading your book right now for comic relief and inspiration. You keep thanking “us” for it … but I’m thanking you for IT! I haven’t read anything non-academic in over a year now and this has been a giggling breath of (snorting) wheezing air 🙂

    See you on the other side of the black hole. Solidarity, sistah!

  219. No one can be funny ALL the time, and, honestly, that would probably just piss us off anyway. People are entertained by funny. People CONNECT with real. Thank you for being real and open and vulnerable with us. Thank you for helping people see they aren’t alone. I hope you have more magic than darkness in the coming days.

  220. “If we’re ever going to see the rainbow, we’ve got to stand a little rain” Yes I stole that line from a song, don’t bother suing me I don’t have anything

    I just want to again, say thank you Jenny and friends all. Thank you for saying ‘me too’ and showing each and every one of those people that this is a problem that effects people everywhere, and it lies to all of us who had it move in with us. At least, as bad as it can be, we aren’t alone.

  221. I have been to Disney World 3 times in September and once some time in the summer. I have NEVER been to MGM Studios without having to buy a Mickey Poncho. I love those damn yellow ponchos.

    PS a rainy day is the perfect day to go to a water park. Virtually no lines and more water. word.

  222. I adore your daughter. She’s this adorable person because her adorable parents teach her how to be adorable. She is strong. Like her mom. Like her dad. You all are.

  223. That is beautiful. I don’t have you audience but I am trying to do the same thing on my blog (well besides get the word out about my children’s stories. I have a section dedicated to my depression and anxiety issues that I have only recently begun to tackle. I’m better than I was, but not were I was a month ago, and have felt a little slip over the last 24 hours. I just haven’t found the right combo of meds yet. Its a frustrating game. But I blog openly for that reason I want to help people and I know I already have. I also want to destigimatize this. Depression lies, anxiety lies even more,a nd my fake it till you make it smile is just a big lie itself.

  224. I’ve adored you from afar for ages (not like, in a stalker way, in like a normal blog-following way, lol), and I preordered your book because you’ve made me laugh to the point of spitting out liquids at my computer on multiple occasions. I came to your blog when I saw someone post on Facebook your article about Beyonce. And, I kept reading because a) i thought you were hilarious, b) I love your consistent use of curse words, and c) reading how you and Victor interact made me think to myself “I hope that one day I have a marriage like that. One where one day starts with an argument over towels and ends with one of us buying a giant metal chicken because…that is funny…that is a life worth living.” I had no idea at that time that you struggled with depression. Since then, I’ve been amazed countless times, not as I expected, at your humor. But, I’ve been amazed at the good you’ve done for others from this platform. I’ve been amazed at your bravery for sharing something so deep. I’ve been amazed at the red dress project and the silver ribbon to make others feel good about themselves. And, most importantly, I’ve been amazed at the education I’ve received from you about depression and its effect on others. My father committed suicide when I was 17, and I’ve often wondered what he thought, how he felt. I wish that he could have read your blog. Thank you so much for your post today. It moved me to tears and compelled me to comment for the first time. I feel like I’m getting some insight into something I thought was lost forever. You are wonderful.

  225. I’m so glad I found you and your Blog. You’ve helped me see that I’m not alone and that other people think/feel like me. I love that you’re so open about yourself and your depression. I’m open about mine in a passive/aggresive way. I constantly “joke” about my “shiny object syndrome(SOS), or all the “voices” in my head etc in the hopes that someone will come to me for help. I climb on the soapbox once in awhile too so I can help others. I’ve been sharing your page to try to help educate others, people who don’t understand and people who are in our same situation alike. Thank you for being YOU and keep up the great work!

  226. You’re so honest, and you bare your soul and let others know they are not alone. You’re truly an amazing and inspiring person. I’m crying happy tears knowing I’m not alone.

  227. Shit…I have so much to say but I’ll just leave you with this…thank you so much. I am so glad you understand how much your words and this community do 🙂

  228. I’m fighting it off today with all my might. Thank you, Jenny, for your reminder that depression lies. My tears right now aren’t such a bad thing.

  229. My daughter helps me through my depression. Sitting on the bathroom floor, tears streaming down my face, thoughts of nothing but ending the pain and pills and razors…. it’s overwhelming. Then I remember her face. Her hugs, her words of love. She’s my rock. She’s my strength. She’s my reason to get up every day, whether depression has pulled me down or not. I might go back to bed after she’s off to school, but without her, I would stay in that bed. Without her, I may have put those pills and razor to use by now.
    Sometimes it seems I’m faking it for her sake. And I probably am, but I think that’s what is supposed to happen. Sometimes faking it means making it. My daughter’s joy is my cure.
    Thank you my beautiful Girl. You make the sun shine.
    And to you, Dear Ms. Bloggess – you will be ok. You ARE ok. And that’s enough. x

  230. Thank you Jenny. You are such a source of light, even for those of us who aren’t trapped in the darkness. My spouse just recently admitted that as a teen, suicide was a very real possibility. When the darkness came back last year he tried meds, but the real change didn’t happen until he was able to discover the cause (gender identity disorder). Thank you for shining a light into the darkness for those of us who are searching for those lost in it.
    My Defining Moments post is about how my husband’s transition to female and how she found a way out of her darkness.
    Again, thank you. You remind me to be furiously happy too.

  231. I finished reading your post and hid in the bathroom to cry. I’m another of those “me too”, depressed, anxious and terribly shy. When I started reading you, I was well past my suicidal phase, but you’ve helped me in other ways…
    I’ve always been afraid of being a mother. How could I take care of another human being when I can barely get my arse out of bed? Will I be a horrible mother? Will my children hate me? Seeing the smile on your child’s face gives me a hint of hope. If you have overcome your mental illness to raise such a beautiful, healthy, brilliant and happy child, there’s a chance I can do it too.
    Depression is a liar. I can be a good mother.
    Thank you, Jenny. <3

  232. While I only just started reading your blog recently, I am so moved by what you have to say – from the funny to the serious. Thank you for being brave enough to put yourself out there, you are saving lives because the things you talk about truly resonate with people.

  233. I have anxiety but I wouldn’t call it depression, although it makes me depressed. To have written a sentence like that I guess I have to have SOMETHING wrong with me.

    You are a fairy with a magic wand and you can change yourself because you changed me. Thanks for being there.

  234. You should know that your blogging inspired me to publicly blog about my depression and it has made a tremendous difference in my life. And I second the notion that some of the funniest (and smartest) people I have ever known suffered from depression. I think it is due to a couple of things…first, madness often accompanies genius. It’s as if there is some Icarus rule that keeps mankind from being too smart so that they are often “gifted” with some form of mental challenge. The second thing is that the depressed, IMHO, are brutally honest with themselves, never cutting themselves any slack. While that makes it harder to break free from those horrible downward spirals, it also allow us to access those pithy, hysterical nuggets of wisdom that can only be found in deep introspection. How’s that for looking at the glass as half-full? It will only last about, oh, another five minutes, but I will take what little, periodic optimism I can scrounge up. Thanks again for inspiring me and making me laugh–that last is worth more than gold to me.

  235. It’s just that sometimes that guy is a really good liar. May your depression be short in duration and low in intensity. xo

  236. Those of us who don’t have depression will never know how you get the strength to have depression instead of letting it have you, but we are eternally grateful that you are stronger than the hand life dealt you.

  237. Thank you so much for posting this. You honestly and frankness about it all makes it so much easier to talk about. i don’t talk about it much, I just act like the stupid cliche clown so that no-body asks if I’m ok. So Thank you for being so awesome.

  238. The thing is, there are more than 20. Twenty happened to write you…there’s no telling how many didn’t.

    {{much love & puddly hugs}}

  239. Posts like this are pure art. Jenny, you are the muse and oracle that so many of us thought we would never find. Thanks for verbalizing the wonky emotion factories that go on in so many of our heads. Please continue to be a pure and honest medium.

  240. I’m so glad you openly blog about your struggles. They have made me feel like I’m not alone on more than one occasion. You actually inspired me somewhat to blog openly about my struggles with depression, OCD, PTSD, and anxiety. You’ve made me realize that I should not be ashamed of my mental illness. It’s not something that defines me. Yes, it’s something I will struggle with every effing day for the rest of my life, but I’m so much more than my mental illness. “Depression lies” is 100% true of depression, but so hard to remember when you are living it. Thank you for reminding me of it. I’m going to write that on a note card and put it on my fridge.

  241. Joy is so tenuous. So is life. Sometimes it’s all you can do to cling to one. One day (or hour… or minute… or agonizing second) at a time.

  242. We love you for being you. With all the travel, book signings, meetings and now this fun trip, you can only be “up” for so long. We will travel this journey with you and hopefully you’ll know we’re here. may that knowledge help the depression lose some of its power, so that it doesn’t last as long or take you as far down. In the meantime, we’re here. Funny or not.

  243. Very sneaky of you to post your own childhood photos and label them your daughter just so we would all get on here and tell you how adorable she (you) is (are). Seriously, those eyes, those cheekbones, that smile, the tilt of the head? ‘Fess up.

    Oh, and, it was confronting that fact that death would mean never seeing my wife again that kept me off the edge long enough to get help. I hope being with your beautiful daughter and long-suffering 😉 husband will help you as well.

  244. Thank you so much for your posts. I have not personally been struck by depression, but my dad, my uncle, my cousin, my brother have. You are helping those who suffer from it know they are not alone, and those who don’t to help understand those who do. I’m going out to get your book tomorrow (I have no chance of getting it at my library – there are something like 40 people on the wait list for it now). 🙂

  245. Don’t you hate it when you see the depression coming? Ack! Sometimes it’s almost worse. Way to push through and be there for your daughter and husband. Sometimes that’s the hardest part. I’m bummed you aren’t coming near my city b/c I would love to meet you and your awesomeness!

  246. Here’s the thing. Depression can decide to drop in at the most inconvenient times. You acknowledge it, knowing it won’t leave until it’s good and ready, but the thing that is so freaking fantastic is that you can also see the exquisite joy on your daughter’s face, and you will make sure that joy is what rises to the top.

  247. You move me to tears with your honesty. You are such a strong, positive voice for people challenged with depression. So glad you can find fun in the rain.

  248. I have only recently discovered your blog but I have read your book. I’ve been tempted to comment but this post has pushed me over. 🙂 Struggling with depression and social anxieties is horrible to live with. It is a struggle but I move forward for my kids too and some days that is the only reason. I’m glad there is someone out there that understands and love this blog for this reason. If you can do it, I can do it . Oh, and I grew up with JRA on top of all this too. Arthritis is horrible at any age.

  249. Yeah, depression-lately feeling low energy, shame filled, not wanting to do anything, and basically dark. Staying up till the wee hours and sleeping the day away. Out of control of my life. I know I can get out of it, but it’s hard sometimes. If I get a chai latte that helps elevate my mood. Or take my neighbors dog for a walk is great. I don’t feel like doing much of anything, and all of the things I’m suppose to do stare me back in the face. I haven’t gone grocery shopping in like 6 mos., too overwhelming for it’s Costco, Trader Joes, and Target I have to go to. I’m suppose to get a new phone but I don’t want to do all the research it takes to get one. Oh, well, this state of mind will pass-I am in counseling personally, about to do couples counseling, and do family conseling, for my boyfriend’s 14 year old attempted suicide a month ago. And he seems always so happy go lucky. Take care y’all!

  250. I have so much admiration for you for not allowing depression to steal your joy as a mother.

  251. Thank you sweet lady. How wonderful it would be if you could spin in a teacup until you couldn’t stand,then stagger out and just puke the poison right out of you. Look down on it and say “Take That depression, and hey, when did I have corn?”

  252. I’m crying… because my brain has been playing tricks on my for weeks. little things that 3 weeks ago were easy are a giant chore for me right now. There have even been a couple of times that I got int he car to go somewhere and by the time I was at the end of my street, I couldn’t remember where I was going. I’ve been hiding it… because I MUST have some kind of horrible, never-before-heard of brain tumor and I’m going to die.

    But really, these are my signs. And you just threw another out there…. a big flashing neon one that just says “LIES”

    I’m going to try to keep THAT sign in my sights until I see the other side.

  253. I love that your daughter is wearing an Alice costume. All little girls should want to be Alice. She was curious and had an adventure.

  254. 1. You are amazing and wonderful.
    2. I’ve learned I can’t even read the comments before i comment. I get too distracted. You have amazing and wonderful commentors.
    3. Hailey is adorbs! i love other people’s kids…. cause they’re cute and funny and I don’t have to pay for college.

  255. I am so appreciative of you. Instead of crawling inside the black hole, you share your troubles with us. It really is amazing to see how many people relate and feel the exact same way all the time. But in today’s society, the judging and comparing make it difficult to express our true emotions. Thank you Jenny.

  256. I think you’re amazing!!! You are one of my idols. And you’re pretty. And it WILL get better.

  257. Your child has the most beautiful smile in the world. I mean it’s like a freaking SUPERPOWER!
    Still fighting the black cloud. Every awful I think…will this be the weekend when I give in? Then I wake up Monday morning and try for another week. One day at a time I guess.

  258. That gave me chills. I agree, you’ve built an amazing community here. Yours is one of the few blogs I take the time to scroll through comments. They’re always so meaningful. Kudos to you, Jenny.

  259. This month, I witnessed a stranger’s suicide attempt, got dumped, had to move, was late to work twice, and was in a car accident. That covers the first week–I won’t bore you with the details of the rest of the month, but suffice it to say my life has been like some horrible farce for the last several weeks. As someone who has been in that dark pit for a while, let me tell you–your blog is one of the beacons out of it.

    Thank you.

  260. thanks for the post. i wish it didn’t feel like it won’t end. perspective is good.

  261. Never ever underestimate the power of your words and the belief that you are who you are for a reason. I’m sure you’ve saved many more lives than you’ll ever realize. Keep being the joy that you are, just as you are!

  262. I love your post. I am a longtime reader, but a once in a blue moon commentor. I struggle myself with depression, and it is so hard to explain to friends and family, why I can be absolutely fine some days, but others I physically cannot make myself do anything.

    Your post brought tears to my eyes, because I feel like that so many days. I will push through it because I love my kids more than anything in the world, so I push it deep down inside of me and ignore it as best as I can, because of them. You are inspirational Jenny. You really are.

  263. Love your blog…hang in there…and ….do you know Heather Armstrong…you should meet…but of your are hysterical in the face of …everything!

  264. Thank you for writing this post, Jenny. I’ve been struggling a lot with my own mental illnesses lately and I re-read your depression lies post(s) when I’m feeling like this to try and get through it.

  265. Interesting, this is the first time I’ve ever read anything by you. A friend told me about the website last night and sent me the link. I’ve since been reading all through it, but the humor is, I think, that much funnier knowing that you are a real person with real issues. I can’t wait to read the book!

  266. 1) Amazing pics of your daughter! She radiates joy!
    2) If you haven’t read the blog ‘Diary of a Mad Woman’ (not mine, I’m not self-promoting right now) then you SHOULD! She’s brilliant and she writes about the aftermath for her and her children after they found her husband had committed suicide. A terrible story but she also is someone who will save lives.
    3) Sending prayers and warm wishes that you can quickly return to your usual wise-ass self who we all adore.

  267. My son makes me feel the same way, he is wonderful about reminding me how to be in the moment and find joy in everything.
    On another note, I love your serious, not funny posts too 🙂 You inspire all of us!

  268. I am feeling very teary and I’m usually like that after reading your posts because I was laughing so hard. You are such a beacon of light and so much of that is because you know the darkness. I think you are extraordinary and your daughter is so very lucky to have you for her mother.

  269. Thank YOU, once again…and I highly recommend a large, colorful beyonce tattoo on your calf–it’s seriously hard not to at least giggle when you look at it, no matter how crappy everything else seems (and yes, I have a large, colorful beyonce tattoo on my calf–because hey, it’s gonna be SOOOO much funnier when I’m 80 and it’s all wrinkley…)

    and BTW, it doesn’t wash off in the rain…enjoy the vaca 🙂

  270. This is why I love this blog, the raw honesty. Thank you Jenny <3

  271. Thank you, Jenny. I’ve been having a really bad anxiety morning (you know, the ones where you can feel something bad on the horizon or you’re anxious and nervous and you have no idea why?) and feeling stuck in my head and alone.

    This post reminded me that I’m not alone. That there are people here, in our little internet community, that can honestly say “I know exactly what you mean. THAT FEELING SUCKS”. That helps, more then I can say.

    And the beautiful smile on Hailey’s face helps too.

  272. The friend of a friend took her own life yesterday. My friend is so angry at her friend for not being able to talk to someone, and for leaving her two daughters without a mother. Because of your blog, I can understand how dark one can feel and the feeling that there must be something better somewhere else. Hopefully my friend will get over her anger because we never know the turmoil in someone’s head.

  273. I am sitting here crying right now because while I do visit your blog for some comic relief, this is the message I needed today as I am slipping closer to the edge of my own black hole. I have everything to be happy for, to live for, but we know the darkness doesn’t differentiate. I needed to be reminded that Depressions LIES today. Thank You… be well.

  274. Thank YOU for being here and joining us together! While I do not suffer from depression, I suffer from anxiety. I know what it is like to have a panic attack where you feel that you will die at any moment, where you have an out-of-body experience watching yourself crumble into a sobbing-screaming pile of a human and not being able to do anything about it. Mental illness is a bitch but people like you and this community makes the going better. Thank you and you keep on fighting!

  275. Today, my therapist taught me a tactic. When my thoughts are spinning and I’m spiraling down, pretend a Stop sign flies up at my face. I’m to take a deep breath, then name off 10 things I’m grateful for. If I can’t do it, I pretend that I live in Haiti or some other less fortunate place. I can at least be thankful for clean water and showers. It’s easy to sink into the pit. Your honesty helps us all fight it who need to fight it.

  276. I cried reading this post. I honestly, literally cried. You are beautiful.

  277. And this is why I was so sad to find out that when you will be in Chicago…you will indeed by so close, yet so far away. I was one of the few lucky enough to get tickets to the Lit Fest event…only to find out I can’t go due to family obligations. There were even evil little thoughts of: Well it is a shower for me…They can’t really start without me – can they? I can go, be a total fan girl, then go on to the family gathering and then go home and curl into a ball for the next week. Instead I am going to give the gift that keeps on giving – no, not the clap, I am paying forward my tickets to the ladies who introduced me to your blog. I have been a mental health crusader for 15 years now. I still have some very dark days. With those years of not giving in have come wisdom- yes this is a soul sucking moment, dear Lord do I feel alone, but if I can get out the other side: someone can benefit from this.
    You help me do that. I love wearing my Depression Lies T: I get a few weird looks, but I get even more high fives, and enough “where’d you get that?” to warrant me wanting a business card template. I’d say we are all part of the League of Injustice…once an official cape pattern is chosen we can star being caped crusaders…Though you already got a cape from a fan. hmm. I’m not sure of my chances of being the random recipient of a cape. Perhaps that may be another evolution of the Red Dress Project. I can see it now…a rag tag mess of folks, in their cape-y glory, spreading the word: Mental Illness is nothing to be ashamed of. Rather than coming out of closets…well for me it’d be getting out of bed. Perhaps they should be capes made out of old quilts. I digress. I watched my mom, my grandmother, a few aunts, my father, countless friends all try to cope in silence. I have been diagnosed since 1985 with depression. I was 10. I have walked through metaphorical fire for more than 25 years. You were the first person that I was introduced to that was as open about their struggles as I try to be about mine. I applaud you. I applaud your fans, without whom I’d be in the dark. I wish I could high five you in Chicago this trip, but alas it would seem I need to wait for my cape. Safe Travels & here’s hoping you like Chicago.

  278. Thank you for sharing. As someone who also suffers from depression, it helps to read other’s frank but positive accounts of coping with it. I think the more we talk about it, the less the stigma will persist.

  279. Jenny, you don’t have to be funny all the time because when you are funny I wet my pants and I don’t think my furniture can take much more of that. Just before I read your blog I realized that I had taken a personal day from work today because I needed the time alone. I needed the time alone so get centered and turn off the cacophony in my head; or at least turn down the volume. You see, in my head there are thoughts that say I am fat, ugly, old, stupid, worthless. I know better. I have a good life full of people who love me dearly, respect me, even admire me. Depression lies. It lies lahk a dawg as we say in the South. But depression also never quite shuts up, does it?

    BTW-your daughter is so beautiful, and her joy is wonderful. I know you know that, but I wanted to say it anyway.

    Hug yourself. Hug others. Keep spreading the word about lies, and keep saving people.

  280. I’ve never posted on your blog before, but I read this one every time there is a new post. I wanted to share that I was depressed and suicidal on many occasions when I was younger. Even had myself committed once for a 72 hour hold to try to hang in there until the worst had passed. Years later, I was doing better and working graveyard shift in an ER. A woman was brought in and was crying so hard that they had to put her in a wheelchair to get her into the ER. No big stressor, just profoundly depressed. My job was to get her name, address, insurance info, etc before she went back to be evaluated. After I had gotten everything I told her the doctors would be out to take her back shortly. Her adult daughter had wandered off to make a phone call (no reception in our waiting room). She had calmed a bit, and when I looked at her, I saw myself at my worst all over again. Making the phone call to stay alive for just a few more days. She looked so lost and lonely. I told her, “I know exactly how you feel.” She looked skeptical. I said, “I don’t know the particulars, but there comes a point when it doesn’t matter what it was that set it off. The bottom of a hole is the bottom of a hole…. doesn’t matter how you got there.” She looked a little hopeful. She asked, “How did you get out?” I said, “Hell, I don’t know! Time. Patience. Talking, thinking, anti-depressants. Changing my mind about myself. Limiting my stress. Love. Who knows?” I took her hand across the counter and I said, “You just have to wait it out. It doesn’t stay the same forever. I promise you that.” She broke down again and tears were streaming down her face. I said, “I swear to God, if you wait it out it will get better. I did. But if I had ended it all then, things never would have had the chance to change. I’m thankful I hung on. You will be, too.” She squeezed my hand so tight. The charge nurse came out to get her. I never found out what happened to her because we can’t access patient records once they go to Psych. I hope that she hung in there. I hope that we all do.

  281. I have a mild episodes infrequently but insomnia is ever-present. Some nights ago I felt myself sinking and your phrase “depression lies” popped into my head. By repeating that, I was able to battle through the “sadness” (ha) and felt like I could fly the next morning. With just that one little phrase, you have armed me for the fight!

  282. It’s women like you that give us all something to believe in you know…and to have hope. Thank you for your bravery in this post!

  283. When my parents took me to Disney World, we waited in line for what seemed like decades for the Dumbo ride. And then, when my turn finally came, my Dumbo wouldn’t fly. I yanked on the joystick to no avail. All the other kids’ Dumbos were soaring in the sky, and mine was barely hovering two feet above the pavement. Well, 5-year-old Me threw a tantrum so epic that it earned me another go-round in a fully functional elephant. But I could have handled it more gracefully. What I’m saying is that when my Dumbo gave me lemons, I didn’t make lemonade by contracting a disease by drinking rainwater dripping off the monorail. At a young age, Hailey’s on to something big: happiness, and probably cholera.

  284. This is one of the most touching things I’ve ever read. Thank you for writing it. And thank you for sharing those marvelous pictures! Can’t look at that face and not smile.

  285. That’s what keeps me going. Seeing the pure joy in my sons face over something so simple. Here’s to 20 more people knowing they are not alone.

  286. I have similar issues and have learned. It rained so hard at Disney that even though we had ponchos (been before) my son’s pants and mine were falling down (thank goodness for old school yellow and blue ponchos). We laughed all the way to the buses in the pouring rain! Things are NEVER perfect and that is what makes great stories. Isn’t that is what life about? Great stories that we treasure forever, albiet good or bad. Our lives are just the stories we make. I don’t always like my stories while we make them but they are always awesome after!

  287. I feel on top of my own depression. I haven’t had an episode in a couple years. Meds are finally lined up properly.
    To all of you that said, “me too” to this post—Hang in there. Sometimes, it’s one minute at a time. One day at a time is just too large a time frame.
    Jenny, you’ve had a long couple months. You’ve done so well. Thanks for being open and sharing ALL of it.

  288. Wow – I sure needed this post today. I am so…impressed that you can see the beauty and joy around you even when you’re pushing back darkness. I’m still learning how to do that. Usually, the darkness pounces on me and I suffocate, trying hard to focus on just breathing and simply can’t see anything other than darkness.

    I often wonder, is it best to try and fight it off or just to ride it out?

  289. It’s always moving to learn that your actions or your words meant something so much more than just what you thought it would mean to a person. I’m proud of you, Jenny, for posting and helping those 20 people see they’re not alone…and I’m proud of those 20 people for helping you see how much your words, your actions and your strength means to them. And to us. You keep thanking us, but, Jenny…thank you. Thank you for being so incredibly you. You mean a lot to all of us.

  290. I was having a bad week last week. I’m having a better week this week. “Depression Lies” is quite possibly the single greatest combination of words I’ve ever read on the internet, and last week would have been harder had I not ever read it.

    Your daughter is adorable and clearly wise beyond her years.

  291. Depression does lie. . . a lot. There is ALWAYS light at the end of the tunnel, even if it is very very small.

  292. This day is how you know you are winning, or at least not losing. Most people without depression don’t even notice the joy around them, or right in front of them for that matter. They gripe at the slightest downturn, like a rainstorm, too blinded by their own self imposed tunnel vision to notice the rainbows. The fact that you noticed the rainbow (Haley), through the fog of depression, tells volumes about your state of mind when down. When fighting the dark, you still look up to see the stars when most clear headed people don’t even know there are stars to see.

    Best memories are unplanned. That looks like an awesome one, in spite of that depression-fucker showing up for the party.

  293. Gosh, I just adore you & your family. I’m so glad that you’re storm has helped others see some light on the other side of their own storms, even if it’s temporary or comes in bursts. You’re amazeballs!

    Also, totally reading your books right now and highlighting! funny things! like “poop bubble,” etc. *giggle*

  294. My husband is starting to climb out of a huge pit of depression the likes of which we had not seen in a long time. We’re starting to see joy again and after the dark times he’s had, I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.

    Depression lies. That has become a mantra in our house. Your blog doesn’t just help the people who are depressed, Jenny. It helps the people who love them too.

  295. Thank you so much for this post! I’ve been fighting depression and anxiety (one begets the other, inevitably) for over half my life and see so much of myself in your words. A smart person told me “don’t believe everything you think”; a different way of saying “depression lies.” Until I REALLY believed that, I had no hope for life. With the help of great counseling and magical meds, I can most days go to bed without praying that I will never wake up again. I can keep the beast at bay and focus on the little happy miracles that life bestows. Like your blog. Like Hailey’s awesome smiles. Like your wonderful community here.

  296. U just “get it”…so very special. May the impending storm pass quickly for you , then u can splash in the puddles with Hailey!

  297. Your blog has brought me so much happiness, from Nancy, to Beyonce, from Wil Wheaton to the Christmas one of your followers gave my family something to celebrate, but the most meaningful posts are the ones that I identify with. This is one of them. It makes me not feel broken anymore, it makes me feel normal. Like a human being, vulnerable, and joyful, and loving. Thank you, for everything you’ve accidentally given me. Seriously, quit dropping knowledge bombs or I may have to start paying you.

  298. You will never know all the lives you have touched. If 20 have written you… Think of all of those who haven’t… Your blog always makes me smile (sometimes through the tears). And sharing it with a friend has helped her find her smile in the dark places.. and know too that depression is a dirty liar! Keep just being who you are… For you are truely beautiful and I believe living your purpose!

  299. Everyone wonders why I don’t mind my 1 hour – 2 hour commute. I use it to cry. It’s the only privacy I have. I don’t care that random strangers see me crying on the stalled interstate as we slowly crawl by each other in the morning. So me and the music and the tears. Yes, depression lies. Yes, there are reasons for the tears, but depression makes it so much more tragically awful and harder to deal with. Meds, tears, traffic, and knowing that I’m not the only one. So we get through each day. Finding friends and reasons for the next day even if they’re on-line. Thanks Jenny.

  300. Well. Fucking. Said.

    Also, how the hell did you take pictures spinning on the teacups?!? Just the thought makes me want to vomit.


    Stay strong… This too shall pass.



  301. Thank you again, and thank you for the posts and the courage (and the dead weasels). You are a light, even when you don’t feel it, so probably I am one when I don’t feel it, too.

  302. Jenny, Once again thank you for being so real and open and honest. You touch my heart! I don’t have depression, at least as far as I know, but I am pretty certain it gallops through my family. You are so uplifting, thank you for the reminder that there are no rainbows without the rain, thank you for being that bit of sunshine that causes the rainbow! You rock!

  303. I’ve never noticed my peripheral vision closing in. I have really good peripheral vision, so now that I know the narrowing vision could be a warning sign, I’ll have to watch for it. Thank you.

    Still here in my mid-forties despite life-long severe chronic atypical depression and some other fun axis II stuff.

    And thank you for the phrase “Depression lies.” That’s something I can hold on to, with both hands if necessary.

  304. I have never heard it said so well! Thank you for sharing your story. Your daughter is beautiful! And I love the smiley-laughy-beside herself with glee pics from the teacups!

  305. I will admit it. I believe I am in that file of yours. And as I feel a sever ass kicking coming my way, I always think of you and what you said. DEPRESSION LIES. When I feel the darkness creeping over me (as it is right now) this is a mantra I repeat to myself over and over and over.

    Depression lies, depression lies, depression lies, depression lies, depression lies, depression lies, depression lies, depression lies, depression lies, depression lies, depression lies, depression lies, depression lies, depression lies, depression lies, depression lies, depression lies, depression lies, depression lies, depression lies, depression lies, depression lies, depression lies, depression lies, depression lies.

    As a matter of fact, I believe it will be my next tattoo. To always remind me. Depression lies. I love you Jen.

  306. I was just diagnosed with PCOS, one of the symptoms of which is depression. It came at me slowly, so slowly that I didn’t realize what was happening, but then for the past several months while I was waiting on a diagnosis, I couldn’t seem to really enjoy much of anything. I’d get horribly, irrationally angry and then burst into tears for absolutely no goddamn reason. The only 2 things kept me sane: my wonderfully, impossibly patient husband and the knowledge that I’m not alone. Thank you so much for all of your posts. Now that I’m on medication to balance out my hormones, I feel like a fog’s been lifted and I can finally say THANK YOU.

  307. “She took what came at her and made it into joy.”

    That should be a shirt, or a religion, or something.

  308. The biggest lie that depression tells me lately is that if I just lay down and take a nap, I’ll feel better. I try try try to remember that it’s my actions that lead me out of depression: that I don’t feel better and start doing things; I have to do things and eventually I feel better.

  309. incredible post. you are such a gift to others. you are beautiful inside and out! and, your daughter is so precious. what an amazing gift she is, too – to you! huge smiles sent your way.

  310. I’ll speak to you as the daughter of a father who suffered severe depression the entire time I was growing up. When I was young, I remember thinking some of the things he did were odd (like staying in a dark bedroom for days at a time) and I didn’t learn the full extent of it until I was in my twenties. I’m not sure why they never told me what was going on but I’m sure they were trying to protect me.

    From what he Dad has told me, many, many years after the fact, it was a very dark place indeed. I’m sure he would have appreciated a website like yours where people are honest and open about their depression. His was a time when NO one talked about it, because if you did, it felt like admitting some sort of “weakness.” To me, sounds it like an extraordinarily lonely place to be. I can only imagine someone reading your words or comments and thinking “I can get through this.” While I know those words can’t erase the darkness, they sure can give you hope. And maybe that’s just enough light to get you through to the other side.

    Thanks for your honesty and heartfelt posts – they help me understand what it feels like to suffer from depression. While I can always have empathy, I can’t know what it truly feels like. It takes guts (and a real set) to put it out there like you do – the good and the bad, and the hilarious. So thank you.

  311. You do help people, Jenny. You use what you have to make life better for other people. Depression is not a gift. But how you use yours, that, sweet lady, is a gift.

  312. Depression always lies, but even when we know that it can still take someone else saying it to remind us that what we’re feeling/thinking isn’t true. I’m so grateful to people like you who’ll stand up and talk about what it’s like, and to the people who stand by their loved ones with mental illness to help them get through those dark episodes. Without all of you, there’d be many more of us gone.

  313. It’s a great reminder to all of us that depression is an evil motherfucker that doesn’t even care that you are at the happiest place on earth. Stay strong, momma.

  314. I’ve been in treatment for depression (and anxiety, and PTSD, and OCD, and…) for about 40 years. About 15 years ago I entered a day treatment hospital for several weeks and found a really good doc who was finally able to find the right combination of meds to keep me from sliding all the way into the black pit of despair. I still have bad days, but I no longer have non-functional days. I know that not everyone is able to achieve this, but I hope for you that you might. However, what you say is so true–depression DOES lie. And you are an incredibly inspirational women, in addition to being a great writer and funny as hell when you want to be. Stay strong.

  315. First, let me start by saying thank you Jenny for your blog, your honesty, your smiles. Your daughter is simply gorgeous as her mother.

    Secondly, I would like to reach out to Amber #128 who has bipolar, and tell her she’s not alone. I too suffer from bipolar — for 40 years. I have severe mania and depression episodes, mixed episodes, and anxiety disorder. I never wanted to admit it to anyone, not even some family members. There’s such a stigma with bipolar, because it is classified as a mental illness. I have been hospitalized for the severity and almost lost my life, and my marriage over the illness. But, I persevered when something tragic happened during vacation while out of the country, and I vowed when I returned back to the states, I would begin cognitive behavioral therapy for 1 year (no interruptions) + see my psychiatrist + take my medicine, and really just a whole host of things like exercise. I mean, *really* exercise. Eat veggies, take particular vitamins and socialize outside the home. I took up golf and joined a ladies bunco group. Forgive me for writing a short story here, but heck, I’m a writer! Yikes!!

    My energy levels soar like a neutron collider: accelerate wildly into compulsive thoughts that inspire me to step out and sign up for the National Orchid Society and the Dracula Society of Romania while the shower water is still running. Powerful manic episodes stimulate intense creativity. I’ll write on a screenplay for a few hours, a few days, and then abruptly start a children’s novel. By day’s end, I have moved to painting what could very well be described as “vomit on canvas,” or join the Naval Reserves in a grandiose unrealistic moment, and other shameful unmentionables. Chasing a wad of dog hair with the sweeper could very well be the apex of my afternoon. All the while bouncing from one thought to another like Wild E. Coyote with a flame to his butt. Sometimes mania inflates my self-esteem to a dangerously high-risk level.

    When I’m down, I refer to myself as “bottom dweller.” When I’m bottom dwelling, I hide from friends and family including my own husband. No social event is attractive enough. These total withdrawals from society can occur at any time including summer vacations and Christmas dinners. Self-doubt and agitation are the plague of bipolar.

    Unpredictable bouts of crying can hit during an Alzheimer’s commercial, or while listening to Barry Manilow’s song Mandy. Fear can settle in, and the phone goes unanswered and the house becomes a permanent refuge. It’s an effort to listen or form logical sentences. Daily routines are neglected, from eating, sleeping, or showering. The slightest whisper can ramp up into a disturbing noise that jangles nerves to the point of nausea.

    We can get through this. No one should suffer alone. Love you Jenny. Now, let’s all go to Disney World (back in Jenny’s case) and create magic!

    xoxo – Carrie aka “Wildcat’s Wife”

  316. You are so brave and have helped so many people. Hailey is so beautiful and so lucky to have you as her mom.

  317. Thank you. I struggle with depression and have for more than 20 years. My husband does to. I live in fear that my daughter (also 7) will too… I see things in her face, expression, and eyes sometimes that seems hauntingly familiar. “Depression lies” has become my mantra thanks to you. I struggle through therapy, figuring out my symptoms and early warning signs. Today was a tough day. I yelled at both my kids when I didn’t need to. But the sadness and frustration in me was just too much to bear. Tomorrow will be a better day. You being here also makes today a bit better too. Thank you.

  318. Twenty lives saved? But that’s only the start of the people you saved. That’s such a beautiful thing.
    I tend to say you have to find your happiness. It’s out there for everyone. Sometimes you need help finding it, and thats why it’s so great to have people like you in the world.

  319. Of course I had to read this on an incredibly hormonal day and tear up like a motherfucker.

    I absolutely love your outlook on life. And I love the joy on your daughter’s face in these pictures. Love all around and praying that your bout of depression goes by fast.

    Also, my cat wants a date with Ferris Mewler. She is willing to look past his lack of testicles.

  320. Women who suffer from depression also have the most awesome breasts. I know that’s true because I have a tremendous set of hooters, and so do you.

    I think the depression is the price we pay for having great racks. Imagine having those babies, AND getting to help all those people. It’s not fair to everyone else, really.

  321. Jenny, you have given me hope so many times when I had none. You always have the right words at the right time, even if that particular word happens to be ‘Douche-Canoe.’

    Thank you so much. From all of us.

  322. I’m sitting here watching my husband play with my puppy and reading your blog and realizing you are, as usual, so right. Carpe Diem, and all of that. I have depression and fibromyalgia and discovered a long time ago that if I wait until I feel good to do stuff then I would never leave my house. I love you Jenny. Thanks for being real. I read your book last week and my sixteen year old daughter is reading your book right now and loving it. Keep up the faith.

  323. This is an amazing post. Your daughter’s smile is infectious!

    Ever since I read the words “depression lies” on your blog, it’s gone into my catalog of mantras for my negative self. I think you have a powerful way of helping people, even when you aren’t at your best.

    I hope that you feel better soon.

  324. Every day is a struggle for me to get out of bed and make it through another day. Some days I lose the struggle and spend the day sleeping.
    I hate to sound like this, but people who don’t live with depression don’t get it. I have people tell me all the time “just get over it” and “think of all the good in your life”…I know I am more blessed then some. I try to look at the glass half full. But I can’t seem to ever fully do that. Good days for me are okay days for “normal” people. I don’t have GOOD days.
    Wtf is even the point of this comment. Idk other then to say thank you for bringing a smile to my face sometimes. I swear if we lived closer we could be friends. That just made me sound kind of like a creepy icky person, but for shiz, as socially retarded as I am, I still think that.
    And like my Twitter comment to you said – you are amazing for teaching your child to dance in the rain.

  325. This is just what I needed to read right now. Perfect timing. Thanks.

  326. Your phrase, “Depression lies.” has become one of my mantras to help me get through the tough times. I really appreciate your blog. Thank you.

  327. Thank you for stating so elegantly and simply what I have never been able to explain. My gratitude for your book, your humour, your humanity is endless. You have given me courage to fight back, because depression lies. I read somewhere that “the world is full of broken people”. At this moment, I don’t feel quite so guilty about being one of the broken ones. It could happen to anybody and it doesn’t have to ruin my life. For the first time in years, I feel like maybe I have a chance. THANK YOU.

  328. I’m a therapist, so I’m legally obligated to point out that therapy blah blah blah anti-depressants more blah etc etc etc. BUT. you are SO FUCKING WONDERFUL. you bring tears to my eyes. you are a role model, in your humor, and your depression, and your ability to cope with the depression, and acknowledge when you’re not able to fight it off. but mostly in your honesty. thank you for being you. and for helping so many other people, who take courage from your courage.

    also Hailey is incredibly lucky to have parents like you and Victor.

  329. I am so glad you were able to see your daughter’s joy even while in that black hole. I am glad you are alive and that you write so beautifully.
    Thank you,

  330. One of my favorite memories was made the day my Dad took me to a baseball game, and mid-game it got rained out. I sat there, surrounded by soggy peanut shells, and had the biggest grin on my face. My Dad let us stay there, in the rain, hoping the game would be able to start up again. I was a child. We have to find a way to hold onto the talent we have as kids to embrace the things that could spoil our day, week, months, and take our time back from the rain and use it to make ourselves happy. How do we lose this skill? Someone, figure that out.

  331. Bless you, darling. And thank you for sharing another part of your beautiful self. My father was horribly depressed and threatened suicide all through my childhood and up until the day he finally passed (from natural causes). I was 37. That’s a long time wondering if and when it was going to get me, too. Well, it has. I haven’t escaped its grip. For the past month I have had my own battle and the physical pain that comes with it. Just yesterday I thought to myself “if it’s going to be like this I seriously don’t want to go on.” But I’m better today. Happy even. The highs and lows don’t make any sense to me. But I have to trust all will be okay. And that I am worth it.

    Thank you for being a humorous, and most important, a bright and honest light in an often dismal world.

  332. Bravo. Well said and I am glad you shared this. You are right, you are brave and you are just perfect the way you are. Thanks for sharing the ups and the downs with whoever is lucky enough to come across your blog.
    carry on.

  333. I have no words for this post. It was powerful and meaningful and amazing. Thank you, thank you for sharing your struggles, your outlook on a gloomy day, and the insight that depression does lie. It lies continuously. But more importantly thank for sharing the amazing fact that we can help each other. That we aren’t alone. Thank you.

  334. I so needed this post today. I suffered from a severe clinical depression almost four years ago, and have battled daily anxiety since. I’ve recently found myself taking Xanax more frequently than usual (though still within my prescribed daily dose), and it wasn’t until I read this post that I realized it’s not just anxiety: I’m hitting that depression well again. I haven’t fallen over the edge, but I’m definitely looking down and noticing the darkness. I know I can pull myself out and see the sunlight (ironically, I’ve been doing this lately by planning my family’s own WDW trip, to take place 6 months from now), but this post has made me acknowledge that I am, indeed, facing depression. That alone is oddly helpful, because now I know what I’m fighting, and I know how to fight back.

    Depression again. That lying bastard.

    I’m totally going to join my kids and dance in the rain next time. I may not feel like it at that moment, but I will not let this lying McLiarson win. Thank you so much for your candor, and for helping me see what’s going on around me — and that although it is around me, it’s not ME. I will do this!! We can all do this. Thank you, thank you.

  335. I wish I was brave. But if I was, I might not be here either. I just want to thank you for your words. They are so true and so hard to remember. Depression lies, but it makes it look like you’re telling yourself the true. It’s slippery and hard to grab a hold of. But we keep surviving somehow, don’t we?

  336. I just had a record breaking low two weeks. Thank you for this article. It brought tears to my eyes. Good tears. You’re beautiful. Keep sharing. Xo

  337. Thanks for your bravery and your honesty and for making us laugh. Depression does lie and it comes up behind you and apps you on the shoulder unexpectedly and at the damnedest times. It’s nice to know we’re all in it together.

  338. It’s the daily stare down of the demons that constantly undermine self esteem, support systems and coping mechanisms. It’s knowing that others feel joy because of the rain, and constantly battling to get back to that sense of balance. And it’s simply knowing that there is one brave enough to voice the pain, and in turn open communication for the rest of us to be reminded that we are not alone. Because sometimes family is not enough, but the hug from the stranger on the corner provided enough acceptance to get us through to the next stage. Thank you for being the hug, I so desperately needed.

  339. Sometimes I’m able to laugh because of the rain. Sometimes I’m overjoyed it’s raining. But not lately. It’s too much rain.
    And, PS I live in the desert.

  340. I’d never heard that phrase “depression lies” until I read your blog. It’s so true, and a phrase I will always carry with me to show myself and others the light at the end of that black hole.

    Just finished your book, and now I’m feeling a little bummed that it’s over. I hope you are serious about there being a book 2!

  341. Hailey’s sheer joy at being there makes those pictures magical.

    I hope it lets go of you soon — you mean so much to so many of us. I want to meet you just to hug you and thank you for being there. Write funny when you can; we’ll be here no matter what.

  342. You are my hero. You make me laugh, you make me cry… I always think that if people knew half of what goes on in my head I would be locked up forever. I’m not as brave as you, I can’t share that part of myself with anyone. I just wake up each day and muddle through as best I can. I check in here often, hoping to find a little pick me up. Keep doing what you do because you are awesome.

  343. it does get better. you don’t have to keep being a patient. sometimes you have to be your own parent, the one you need (ed) to the freaked out little kid inside. sometimes you have to let yourself off your hook first so you can get the other stuff off. others can only give you tools you have to build your own ladder to climb out of your illness. you prolly don’t believe me and that is OK just keep on keeping on. it will change. really. i am there.

  344. I’ve struggled with postpartum OCD since the birth of my daughter 2 years ago. Most days I didn’t want to live. It’s a hell that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. And although it sucks that others deal with the same sort of issues, there’s comfort in knowing I’m not alone.

  345. You are amazing. I thank God for you every time I read your blog or pick up your book. Pinky-swear. Thank-you, Jenny Lawson?

  346. Love this blog and enjoyed the hell out of your book, most of the time you make me giggle. Thanks also for today’s post. HUGS!

  347. 20. Is surely just the tip of the iceberg of people still here and people comforted by the wonderful peek you give us into your mind. Love your outlook and your words.

  348. It is hard to understand when you can still feel joy and yet want to be dead. I am not actively suicidal, but at the same time I feel as if I don’t want to be here. I have moments that are joy and yet the dark can still come in. I am trying to say I understand completely.

    By the way, your daughter is beautiful.


  349. Damn…don’t I absolutely completely understand. It’s a battle I have fought for years…and it was made worse by a disabling injury 5 years ago that leaves me emotionally crippled with pain. I fight it. I force those smiles. I love my kids – my only joy. I keep fighting. I know…

  350. My Middle School best friend took her life Wednesday. She was surrounded by people who love her and need her and tried to help her. She was a dancer, and rescuer, and a giver… And Depression lied to her. She struggled with easting disorders and depression for almost 30 years. She lectured to thousands of teen girls about body image and the lies that we tell ourselves about how we’re not good enough… and although she helped thousands, she couldn’t help herself. And the world is a little less wonderful with her not here. I wish she could have found you. Maybe she’d still be here too….

  351. Amen, sister.

    Saw this online in a writers’ workshop description: “Contrary to popular belief, writing funny doesn’t mean sacrificing depth. On the contrary, for most literary writers the comic impulse is inexplicitly linked to tragedy.”

    Light and dark are always wrapped closely around each other.

    Your precious child looks like you!

  352. It might be more than 20.

    I posted a link to your “don’t go” video on my Facebook page.

    It inspired one woman that I know to finally take the step to get the help she needed – help that I wasn’t aware she needed so desperately.

    Another friend who is dealing with terrible depression and some other health issues that limit the meds she can take, and who has been inpatient hospitalized twice in the past year? She has that link programmed into her calendar so that every few weeks it reminds her to go watch it. It is helping her slowly crawl up from depths I can’t even imagine.

    So yeah, probably more than 20.

  353. It does get better.
    Beaming you good thoughts.
    Barb in Minnesota

  354. what an amazing post… and so true… sometimes it’s hard to see the light when you’re in the midst of a depression bout … and going on twitter or to blogs and seeing the others and getting the support makes all the difference in the world.

  355. I love that you wrote this. I have had bouts of depression. But my problem lies more severely in the area of anxiety, which is closely related to depression (and sometimes leads to it). I get bad anxiety and sometimes terrible panic attacks. And when that happens, I tend to spiral downward. More anxiety. More panic. More depression. And the one thing that helps is to just accept that this is part of who I am. This will pass. I will ride the storm. And It’s okay to feel this way. Fighting it can backfire. Accepting it and letting it enter can sometimes, in and of itself, keep it from entering.

  356. Jenny, you are remarkable in so many beautiful, astounding ways. And I suspect there are way more than 20 peeps around these days because of you. Cheers to that number growing by leaps and bounds. And thank you for being honest and sincere and not the least apologetic for who you are. And BTW, Hailey couldn’t have chosen a better Mom. Hang tight – we’re all spinning alongside you!!

  357. I didn’t see the take-home message as being laugh because of the rain. I saw the take-home message as being that true courage can be found in the seemingly smallest of gestures.

  358. I just want to echo that you’re not alone. I have chronic depression, and although I’m ok right now (my meds are working very well), there’s always that little “what if I can’t stave it off” floating around in the back of my mind. Depression runs in my family, so at least I have relatives–and a very understanding hubby–who get it (what depression is like). So you’re in my thoughts. And if you ever want to talk about it, I’d be happy to chat.

  359. I tried to kill myself in February. I wish I had read this post before and maybe I wouldn’t have. Great post!!!!!!

  360. Great post. Thanks so much for your honesty.

    A few months ago, you inspired me to write honestly on my own blog about my struggles with depression. And now my teeny tiny little blog is helping a couple more people realize they are not alone. And maybe some of those people will talk about their depression on their blogs now.

    It does indeed, come around and around. In a good way.

  361. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and feelings.
    I’m currently struggling with an approaching depression relapse. I can feel it creeping up, despite the meds. Every morning the bed keeps calling me back. Sometimes it wins; sometimes I do. I’m tired of the seemingly neverending cycle – counselling, medication, more counselling, more medication. It’s exhausting. Even more tiring is the act I have to put on for everyone else – the jokes, the antics, the smiles, the smartass comments. Because no one wants to be around the fat depressed woman.
    Thank you for brightening my day – I need every little ray I can get my hands on.

  362. First – She is a beauty.
    Second – She looks just like you.
    Third – Stanley the Squirrel definitely needed his own chapter and I definitely needed that laughter.

    Thank you for giving us everything.

  363. When I was young my grandma used to take all of us cousins to a theme park every year. The most memorable time was the year we went to Magic Mountain and it rained and all of the rides closed. I don’t know why I remember that one above all of the others, but we all had an amazing time and eventually it stopped and we all got to ride again.

  364. Jenny

    Bless you for being you — wonderful, amazing, courageous, laugh-out-loud-funny, uniquely special you.
    At the risk of sounding too religious — the kingdom of God is not only something in the future, some place where God, and not this world, gets the last word — it is something people are called to work to bring about in the now. Thank you for your courageous efforts to bring about God’s kingdom of love and belonging here today.

  365. Thank you so much for your honesty and for keeping it all so real. One of my friends from high school lost her father to suicide over the weekend, and it breaks my heart to feel that he believed the lie. He didn’t see how it could get better. I am so grateful that you and your readers are able to keep it real and expose the truth that depression lies. It doesn’t last forever, and there is something to stick around for. Thank you.

  366. Me too! I feel like I am always fighting with that freaking cloud hanging over or around me.

    I give you mad props for going on the tea cups! I would have been sick for days!

  367. SInce the last two trips with my family to Disney World coincided with my being physically ill (throat infection last time, ear infection before that), I know something about smiling thru things. I wasn’t going to be the one to bring the family vacation down. But on the subject of depression, this is a very real and powerful thing in my life now. I’ve finally found the strenght to get help. It was hard: the very things we need to do to fight depression are made almost impossible by depression. Right at this precise moment, I’m feeling lost. And then this tweet comes along linking to this article and it was probably the thing I most needed to hear. Thank you.

  368. Buddy…I wish that you were my mommy…except that we are (aprox) the same age and all (I envy y’all that have chillin’. Where’s my baby/kid.chillin’) Godd luck with that.



  369. Do y’know, one of my most favorite moments from the last few years came on a day when depression was lying. It was throwing just about everything it had at me.

    And then it started to rain. Not just a little bit of that misty “I’ll be a real raindrop when I grow up!” kind of rain, but RAIN, pouring down in sheets. And it hit just exactly as I got a short break at work. So I did what any responsible grown-up would do.

    I ran…RAN…out the front door of my store, out from under the awning, and threw my arms wide as I lifted my face to the torrential downpour. And in that moment, I was furiously happy. In that moment, depression COULDN’T LIE TO ME ANYMORE.

    Find some raindrops today, sweet friends, and enjoy them. 🙂

  370. great post.

    i wish your blog would’ve been around 12-13 years ago for my friend Leslie – she believed the lies.

    20 people saved is well just fucking amazing!!!!

    thank you Jenny Lawson
    thank you

  371. My husband comitted suicide a year ago. We have 3 kids, 10, 5 and 2 yrs old. I spent the first few months trying to figure out how we could all die too. It was a horrible place to be and prior to that I never understood depression because I’d never been that low. I still don’t understand it, really, because I still love life and I’m determined this won’t define us. Don’t give in to the dark cloud.

  372. You are so wonderful and I know together we are strong enough to make it through this crazy journey we call life.
    P.S. Ronald Weaseley with the wig is making me think of Harry Potter Puppet Pals and the video where Ginny cuts her hair and Harry has Ron wear a bow to practice asking Ginny out and then can’t tell them apart. Just thought that might make you sorta smile.

  373. Dang…I really needed that today. Thank you for sharing your thoughts.

  374. Beautiful. You always inspire me. And it’s true, some of the funniest and most intelligent people I know suffer from depression as well, including me. That’s not to say I am funny or intelligent. Whatever. Fuck that. I’m a hilarious genius.

  375. *nods* I am a “me too” as well. I have lived with depression for over thirty years, sometimes just to spite it. I live with an anxiety/panic disorder where my startle response to a loud noise scared the shrink doing the eval. Sometimes all you can do is look depression in the eye and flip it off. Sometimes all you can do is go take a nap. “It gets better” is the hardest thing to remember, and the most important thing to keep hold of. Thank you for reminding us, and reminding us we’re not hanging out here on this creaky limb alone. =)

  376. I love your writing and it is very brave of you to mention your depression despite your successful career. It gives others hope! Thank you

  377. Jenny, your story moved me today and the images of your daughter are truly joyful.
    Here’s to “the raindrops” and your incredible honesty straight from the heart.
    With appreciation of wonderful you Jenny!

  378. Your photos of your daughter are so beautiful and joyful. It’s a lovely counterpoint to depression.

    Lately I’ve been counting it as a victory every time I resist the urge to curl up in a ball in a corner somewhere. I feel very victorious today. Depression lies.