Go to hell, Charlotte!

I just thought of something. We all know the story. Depression and its buddies are caused by….actually, I dunno.Google doesn’t know either and there are no answers to be found anywhere on the Internet.

Here is some of the information that is readily available Online:
Russia has a larger surface area than Pluto.
France was still executing people by guillotine when Star Wars: A New Hope hit theaters.
For every human on Earth there are 1.6 million ants.
Shakespeare made up the name “Jessica” for his play Merchant of Venice.
Scotland’s national animal is the unicorn.

Here is how depression is treated with medication: “Antidepressants primarily work on brain chemicals called neurotransmitters, especially serotonin and norepinephrine. Other antidepressants work on the neurotransmitter dopamine. Scientists have found that these particular chemicals are involved in regulating mood, but they are unsure of the exact ways that they work,” according to Dr. Doctor.

That’s cool. I don’t need to know exactly how it works. I’ve got too much or too little serotonin, norepinephrine, and/or dopamine. The antidepressants help me keep these things or gets rid of them. With all that being said, there must be people out there with the opposite issue, right? There are tall people and there are short people. There are green eyed people and blue eyed people. There are hairy people and bald people. So logic says that if I have severe/major depression, someone out there must has severe/major under-depression. I’m not talking about those happy folks. The opposite of depressed is not happy.

I’ve wondered what my under-depressed me would be like. I’ll named her Charlotte. I bet her house is clean. I bet Charlotte is the type of person who hangs flags on her front porch that match the seasons. I bet she remembers to get her oil changed and rotate her tires. I bet that bitch’s bra and panties match every day and not just on “special occasions.” I bet her dog didn’t eat her only pair of black flats three weeks ago and she still hasn’t bought a new pair and is almost out of brown outfits. Charlotte is in the PTA and knows the names of all her children’s teacher AND hand makes teacher gifts from Pinterest. Hell, Pinterest calls her when they need gardening advice.

You know what? I hate Charlotte. You know what else? I’m way more fun.

4 thoughts on “Go to hell, Charlotte!

  1. I stopped wondering what my wife would be like if she wasn’t bi-polar, suffers from depression, is a recovering alcoholic and did not have an eating disorder. You know why? Because I choose to accept and love her exactly the way she is.

    You need to do the same to yourself. There is no such thing as a “perfect” human, we are all flawed.

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