When I get depressed, I tend to close myself off from the world. Hideaway in some corner of the house, avoid anything that might bring me joy, and live on a diet of Poptarts and vodka. I did this when my wife passed away, and have been trying to do this now that my mother is gone. Except that this time I am fighting against that urge.
I don’t want to become that person again. I literally just managed to start picking my life up, and my mom would be so hurt and disappointed in me if I let myself fall down that dank whole again. So, I try with all my might not to let myself become “That Person” again.
One thing I do to prevent myself from going to that dark place again is to force myself into social situations. When I am in that crevasse of depression I trend to cut myself of from people. So, putting myself in a place where I am forced to interact with people keeps me from avoiding humanity.
One thing I did was force myself to go to a mexican restaraunt. Normally I love Mexican food. It’s cheesy, spicy, it’s just all around great. You really can’t go wrong with Mexican food. You can however go wrong with a Mexican food establisment.
This place I went to, seemed like a nice place. A little dark, but that could have been because I had been used to the brightness of the mid-day sun. It had an overall nice atmosphere, Complete with a mariachi band singing happy birthday to a 9 year old kid, who should totally have been in school.
The key word to that last paragraph is the word “seemed”, because while it certainly looked nice, it had a darker, seedier underside! I had ordered a platter of Nachos, because I am a sucker for tortilla chips and cheese! Who isn’t? I must say that it looked and tasted nice. I liked the tortilla chips being died the color of the Mexican flag! Nice touch! Just hope nobody starts dying apple pies red, white and blue.
Anyway, it looked good and tasted good. The fork they brought me was bent, almost like Uri Geller went to town on it, but it wasn’t a big deal because this is Nachos! It’s not like I was eating enchiladas! You don’t need a fork for Nachos! So, I started steam shoveling those babies down my gullet like a hungry hungry hippo, when to my surprise a little cockroach comes scurrying out from under my plate! I squashed it, and turned it into bug paste, but that did manage to kill the enjoyment factor.
Before anyone asks, no! I did not go up and complain about my unexpected lunch guest, because how do you word that? Plus, it’s a bit out of their control I guess isn’t it? I mean, it’s not like the walls were crawling with them, and customers were being carried down to the roach queen in their hive located in the basement. Still! Cockroach! Under my plate!
To top it off, it was a tiny baby one! Which means there’s probablly a whole family of them there somewhere, and a mother cockroach standing out on a Toilet rim shouting “Henry! Come home Henry! Dinner time!”, only it won’t come home will it? Cause I turned it into Roach pudding!
Don’t get me wrong, I still kept eating the nachos! It’s not like the little critter climbed up on the mountain of cheese and guacamole that was my dinner, and start doing some dirty dancing moves. If it didn’t touch my grub, it’s still edible!