Emerging from my cocoon like some sort of warped moth…

Offline for several hours, I panic and fear all my friends will think I’m

dead. Finally, I am connected. I have 24 new messages in my inbox. All of

them are spam. Way to stroke the old ego, eh? Strange to think that even

just a year or two ago I was completely out of touch with everyone and

didn’t care. I had my family and other than that, my friends were books

and indie movies and Elvis Costello CDs. Going to the farmers market and

buying fresh tomatoes qualified as an “event.” Window shopping at the mall

was a major outing. A box of donuts on a Sunday morning heralded a

celebration. I was sooo fucking boring. Not that there’s anything wrong

with that. There are plenty of good things to be said about “voluntary

simplicity” and I love my family to pieces. But I was not happy.

Smart,creative people with moderate depressive tendencies are not well

advised to hole up and forsake the outside universe. I forgot I could be

worthwhile at all. I hadn’t written anything in years and I was supposedly

such a great writer (according to the people I went to high school with

anyway, some of whom didn’t even like me that much and still said it…) I

hadn’t sung anywhere but in my car in over a decade. The closest I’d come

to “going out with friends” in years had been a rather disappointing

venture to a tacky comedy club with one of my Colorado mommy friends and a

chainsmoking, cackling, retired friend of her mother. The show consisted

of a Hispanic comedian making ethnic jokes and a female comedian making

“men sure are stupid” jokes. But I digress. My point is that I’m happy to

have gotten to the point where an empty inbox is something unusual. I’m so

glad to havemy old friends back and a few new ones and the guts to give

myself a shot at being alive again on some level. I love my girls more

than anything in the world, but I can see them benefitting from a mommy

with opinions and friends and outside interests. I take them out more

often than I used to. I’m more creative with them than I used to be. I

feel so much more capable than I did not long ago at all. And so, to my

friends old and new I say a long overdue “thank you” and also I offer an

apology for the times I’ve bugged the living crap out of some of you

because I was using my newly formed and/or newly recemented friendships as

a form of social prozac. And I vow to try and network a bit more until

someday I am at the point where I actually dread looking in my inbox

because there’s too much correspondence awaiting me. Depression is

invasive and stultifying and sometimes the best way to overcome it isn’t

pills and therapy but flat out getting the hell out of the house and doing

something slightly different for a while. And I swear to you all I will

grow less annoying with time 🙂

Corbid the still slightly dull