From the Lighter Side of Depression

It happened again, but it has been happening for a long, long time. The first time it happened, I am guessing I was four or five years old? It goes so far back in the mists of time that I can’t really see me, just what was happening. Aye, it’s been 50 years. Give me a break.

My parents thoughts I was going crazy. There was something WRONG.

I don’t remember the details, but I do remember that I tried explaining that there was nothing wrong. I was fine.

For no apparent reason that they could see, I would burst out laughing. I’d be playing, or sitting on the sofa, and I would just burst into laughter.

There was something WRONG.

No. There wasn’t.

I’m guessing I did not have the words yet to explain. I may even have been younger than four. Or maybe my stutter was so bad at that age, I could not make them comprehend that I was fine. Everything was A-Okay. Perfectly fine.

But then they took me to the doctors. I was fine! I imagine this led to another type of doctor, the other kind, for kids who laugh for no apparent reason. That kind of doctor.

I don’t remember much, but I remember that I was angry. I was fine! I could also be a brat. So, in the lead up to the visit to see the OTHER doctor, I started laughing out loud more. On purpose. Especially when my dad was in the room.

You want to make something out of nothing? Okay, I can play.

So, we get to the OTHER doctor, the one that does not have a stethoscope, just a white jacket. I don’t remember it. Male or female, I don’t recall. Nothing. But I do remember explaining and them understanding the explanation.

It just happened. It’s been happening all my life. I’m 54, deep into my meditation, and I burst out laughing.

I’m fine. There is nothing wrong. I’m not going crazy. I just have a very good imagination and very good sense of humor. When you put those two together, funny things happen in my mind and I laugh about it.

Today, Kenny the Koala is stalking my meditation. He is pissed off that I brought him to Philly so he’s shivering on the William Penn statue, flipping me the bird.

50 years ago? Who knows? After living with a toddler, I know there is an unending source of things that are hilarious. Things come together in my mind and I laugh. Leave me alone. I’m fine. I’m enjoying myself. That burst of laughter is good for the soul.

I do kind of remember being honest with the doctor about everything. The doctor explained that doing it on purpose was wrong and I should stop that. So, I did.

If my dad happens to read this, and wants the copays back: no. It’s your fault for not listening.