It's the little things...

Every time I get in a depression, it becomes a quest to find that one thing that will pull me out. About six years ago, when I had "the big one" (as I like to call it), I learned the hard way what not to do when you're seriously depressed. Things like read Bonfire of the Vanities, or listen to NPR for more than two hours out of the day, or eat nothing but Wheat Chex for every meal. However, what pulled me out of that one was listening to Dave Matthews Band's album Crash over and over again, particularly the song #41. "I will go in this way/And find my own way out/I wont tell you to stay/But I'm coming to much more."

The I've had two serious funks since then. For the first, it was a saturday afternoon driving around, taking turns at random, ending up somewhere in southern Missouri before turning around. Perhaps it was the feeling of being physically lost and finding my way back that snapped me out of it.

The last one came about from a break-up a couple years ago. I was falling hard for this one girl, and it fizzled really quick. What really got me down was the energy I wasted on someone who was completely incapable of loving anyone or anything in this world. What snapped me out of it was a surprising new relationship with a woman I had been great friends with for a couple years. I was leaving her house, I hugged her goodbye and my hand lingered on the small of her back for too long. In a flash, we were making out on her front porch, then went inside to go just a bit further. She and I dated hot and heavy for a couple months before it all ended rather abruptly.

Which lead to one of the biggest mysteries about my depression. What works one time never works a second time. And if the cure runs out or I just stop taking it, I don't just fall back into my funk. I stopped listening to that Dave Matthews album, I can't just go on another road trip because of gas prices, and I'm not about to go looking up my last ex-girlfriend because-as I found out too late-she's crazier than a shithouse rat.

It's different every time. And my newest little adventure into the rabbit hole has sent me on this search yet again. I may have found it. Today, I was reminded that almost every situation can be hilarious if you look at it a certain way. For instance, this picture was taken at a road house bar in Skiatook. It's an album cover nailed to the wall in the men's room. I don't know if this was intentional or not, but the album is positioned so Linda Ronstadt's eye line is directed right at your crotch when you're standing there taking a leak. It also helps that she's smiling so big. It's a nice little pick-me-up. "Hey, like what you're seeing there, Linda?"

I'm just trying to remind me of those little things, like seeing a guys with obnoxious neon lights under his car hit a bump and watch them break. Or having some guy yell at you to watch where you're going only to, moments later, watch them walk right into a plate-glass window thinking it's an open door. Or noticing that the "Up with Trees" signs all over town are made of wood.

Or as I experienced today, having my boss chew my ass out over something, leave, than come back five minutes later to say, "Oh, it turns out you were right!"

I'll be trying to keep my eyes open from now on for moments like this. Perhaps irony will pull me out this time.