I have been binge reading all of your blogs these last few days. I have never felt so normal. It turns out that all the things that make me crazy, make tons of other people crazy too! I have found people who understand every single one of my disorders. And not just the big ones! I have even found others who share the same weird “quirks” that I have:
– People who are scared to order pizza over the phone. (Yep!)
– People who have anxiety attacks if they watch America’s Funniest Home Videos, Wipeout, or Jackass. (Found ‘em!)
– People who can’t watch the news without getting utterly depressed. (Tons!)
– People who freak out if a person randomly starts singing. (I’m not alone!)
– People who turn into idiots when ordering at a drive-thru. (You Betcha!)
So, thank you.
Now I want to introduce you to my big three, Depression, ADHD, and Anxiety. They often come in a threesome, but not the fun kind. I like to imagine them as three girls who are out to dinner and are sitting at a restaurant booth. In my head, the restaurant is an Applebee’s. They aren’t very classy gals. Depression and ADHD sit next to each other, and Anxiety sits on her own on the opposite side.
ADHD has a cute little outfit on and tons of accessories. Her earrings dangle to her shoulders, she has at least 10 bangles on each wrist, she is wearing a ring on every finger, and if you took a peek under the booth, you would notice that she is one of the six people left in the world who still wears an anklet. She clanks, jingles, and tingles every time she moves, and she moves a lot. The noise is bugging the hell out of Anxiety.
Next to ADHD, Depression is reading the menu. She has a pretty face, but she is looking a little rough. Her sweatpants have a mustard stain. The drawstring on them broke a couple of years ago, so she has to hold them up when she walks. Her shirt says, “If you’re happy and you know it, go to hell.” She is about 4 days past the point of when she really should have had a shower. She is rocking a greasy ponytail and leaning her head against the restaurant wall contemplating the social ramifications of never shaving her legs again. ADHD wished she would reply to anything she says, but she never does. That doesn’t stop ADHD from her endless supply of banter.
Anxiety is sitting by herself and covering her face with her menu. She is a slight little thing. She is wearing black skinny jeans, black t-shirt, and black ballet flats. Depression is staring at Anxiety’s hidden face and silently hating how thin she looks. Anxiety is paralyzed by the small print at the bottom of the first page that states, “ *Consuming raw or undercooked meats, poultry, seafood, shellfish, or eggs may increase your risk of food-borne illness, especially if you have a medical condition.”
The three of them put their menus down and look at each other. Depression looks tired, ADHD looks bored, and Anxiety looks panicked. Without a word, they stand up and exit the restaurant.
Anxiety says, “We got pretty far this time! We almost ordered!”
ADHD says, “Same time tomorrow?”
Depression says, “Meh.”
This is my posse. Sometimes I hang out with just one, and sometimes all three will wanna party. They are total junkies. If I give them the right pills, they don’t make a scene. And I sure as hell stay away from Applebee’s.