Author: Sarah

What it feels like to be so depressed you stop enjoying ice cream

Sarah 4 Comments

Depression traps me in a cage of thought.

What it feels like to be so depressed you stop enjoying ice cream

Thoughts about bad choices in my life; thoughts about my dead sister; thoughts about giant squid.

The worst things imaginable.

What it feels like to be so depressed you stop enjoying ice cream

The cage hates activities and gives me an excuse to avoid doing anything I don’t want to.

What it feels like to be so depressed you stop enjoying ice cream

Rational me cannot be heard—the cage doesn’t care how I smell.

What it feels like to be so depressed you stop enjoying ice cream

I destroy everything in my path, a phenomenon I call “Sarah wuz here”.

What it feels like to be so depressed you stop enjoying ice cream

The cage makes me look like a real dick.

What it feels like to be so depressed you stop enjoying ice cream

With the cage on, lying is fine.

What it feels like to be so depressed you stop enjoying ice cream

Lie expertly disguised.

What it feels like to be so depressed you stop enjoying ice cream

Honesty in the final hour. No one is mad.

Wearing the cage and making plans is a big problem. On Valentine’s Day, I was supposed to go out with my husband.

It was meant to be a date at a new cafe with the love of my life—ice cream.

What it feels like to be so depressed you stop enjoying ice cream

I hated ice cream.

What it feels like to be so depressed you stop enjoying ice cream

We embarked on a romantic walk. 

What it feels like to be so depressed you stop enjoying ice cream

I would like this date to be over.

What it feels like to be so depressed you stop enjoying ice cream

Not even my love (still ice cream) could cheer me up. Unlike my melting ice cream, the cage kept me frozen in place.

As we sat in the cafe, the sun began to set over the city. I sat up, and a ray of light hit me in the face.

What it feels like to be so depressed you stop enjoying ice cream

I immediately noticed its beauty.

Then something strange happened—I started melting.

What it feels like to be so depressed you stop enjoying ice cream

The ray of light appeared to trigger some reaction, causing my thoughts to melt out of my head and through the bars of the cage.

It was super weird.

What it feels like to be so depressed you stop enjoying ice cream

The shock of freedom caused the cage to begin coming apart.

Awareness of my surroundings set in.

What it feels like to be so depressed you stop enjoying ice cream

It was horrifying.

Finally seeing beyond myself, drastic action was needed.

I began by visiting an old friend.

What it feels like to be so depressed you stop enjoying ice cream

I threw myself at the mercy of the shower.

What it feels like to be so depressed you stop enjoying ice cream

Washing away the shame and guilt of depression is uncomfortable.

I continued cleaning “Sarah wuz here” damage.

What it feels like to be so depressed you stop enjoying ice cream

It’s important to give yourself some credit.

I painstakingly put the pieces of my life back together.

What it feels like to be so depressed you stop enjoying ice cream

I made a solemn vow.

What it feels like to be so depressed you stop enjoying ice cream

With the cage removed, I conquered depression forever.

ONE WEEK LATER

What it feels like to be so depressed you stop enjoying ice cream

Motherfucker took my ice cream, too.

What it feels like to be so depressed you stop enjoying ice cream

I called my dead sister’s phone to hear her voicemail. Jeff answered.

Sarah 12 Comments

I got the idea to call my dead sister’s cell phone from the movie P.S. I Love you, a story about a young woman whose husband suddenly dies.

Following the funeral, the wife lies in bed calling his cell phone over and over.

I called my dead sister’s phone to hear her voicemail. Jeff answered.

It was the saddest thing I’d ever seen.

When my sister Melissa died, I called her constantly.

I called my dead sister’s phone to hear her voicemail. Jeff answered.

I sobbed when she didn’t answer.

I called my dead sister’s phone to hear her voicemail. Jeff answered.

I sobbed listening to her voicemail and I obsessed.

I pulled my family into it.

I called my dead sister’s phone to hear her voicemail. Jeff answered.

It was a little funny.

During one of my routine calls to Melissa, something weird happened.

I called my dead sister’s phone to hear her voicemail. Jeff answered.

Something that barged in on my pity party.

I called my dead sister’s phone to hear her voicemail. Jeff answered.

Something that introduced me to Jeff.

I called my dead sister’s phone to hear her voicemail. Jeff answered.

I hung up on Jeff.

I called my dead sister’s phone to hear her voicemail. Jeff answered.

Melissa’s cell phone account had only been closed a few months. My beloved calling routine had been taken from me by Jeff, aided by the dicks over at Verizon.

As pack leader, it was my job to ensure that my younger brother and sister knew how to react.

I called my dead sister’s phone to hear her voicemail. Jeff answered.

Fueled by “coping-with-depression-via-alcohol,” I made a call.

I called my dead sister’s phone to hear her voicemail. Jeff answered.

I gauged his reaction to a drunk dial.

I called my dead sister’s phone to hear her voicemail. Jeff answered.

He seemed game.

I called my dead sister’s phone to hear her voicemail. Jeff answered.

Jeff and I connected immediately.

I called my dead sister’s phone to hear her voicemail. Jeff answered.

But I had the right number. And it was Jeff’s.

Jeff and I had an amazing summer together.

I called my dead sister’s phone to hear her voicemail. Jeff answered.

I couldn’t wait to get him on the line for a rip-roaring chat.

Classic Jeff.

I called my dead sister’s phone to hear her voicemail. Jeff answered.

I don’t remember much of our conversations.

I called my dead sister’s phone to hear her voicemail. Jeff answered.

What I do remember is the excitement shared when Jeff and I connected on the line.

If my life was a movie, Jeff getting Melissa’s phone number would have been one of those silver-lining things you hear about when people die. Like Jeff and I were supposed to meet. And Melissa dying was the only way that could happen.

A few months into my new routine with Jeff, I got a text from an unknown number.

I called my dead sister’s phone to hear her voicemail. Jeff answered.

My life isn’t exactly like a sad movie.

Author’s Note:

I discuss the 3 D’s and Jeff on the podcast Everyone Dies, a nonprofit exploring life-limiting illness, dying, and death. To jump to the interview, begin listening at 30:39 minutes in. In the first half of the podcast, nurse practitioner Marianne Matzo and co-host Charlie Navarrette discuss the role of depression, cognitive tests, and brain imaging used to diagnose dementia or other possible causes. You can find the podcast on Spotify, Apple, or wherever you get your Podcasts. Just search Everyone Dies (Every1Dies‪). Or listen here!

The Naked Barbie Incident

Sarah 4 Comments

Growing up, there were two types of dolls—American Girls and Barbies.

The American Girls resembled real girls. They looked my age and had accessories, like eyeglasses and four-poster beds.

The Naked Barbie Incident

They were boring.

This is where Barbie came in.

With Barbie’s heaving breasts, high heels, and made-up face, she was DTF. 

Barbie changed the way I played with dolls. I could switch from tea with the American Girls to a Barbie and Ken bang session—all in one afternoon.

Discretion was key.

The Naked Barbie Incident

I could have played Barbies in private to avoid the charade, but I preferred to play in the living room. In our family of six, the living room had all the action. I wasn’t about to miss out for the sake of decorum.

Plus “boundaries” aren’t really my thing.

The Naked Barbie Incident

The coast was NOT clear.

My siblings, who are normal, sometimes opted to play alone in their rooms.

The Naked Barbie Incident

I didn’t understand it.

Melissa was especially good at locking out family—me in particular.

The Naked Barbie Incident

I hated being left out and desperately wanted to know what Melissa was doing in there.

One day, I hatched a brilliant plan.

The Naked Barbie Incident

I artfully dramatized my departure.

The Naked Barbie Incident

My mother took forever to get the hint.

The Naked Barbie Incident

Despite my mother’s meddling, the plan remained on track.

The Naked Barbie Incident

I began to sprint.

The Naked Barbie Incident

At top speed, I launched my 60-pound self against the door.

The Naked Barbie Incident

Shoulder bruised, but high on adrenaline, I scanned my surroundings.

My eyes locked with Melissa’s, a look of horror etched on her face.

The Naked Barbie Incident

In front of her was Ken, lying naked on top of Barbie in the four-poster bed. An American Girl doll lay by the wayside.

As quickly as I arrived, Melissa threw me out, slamming the door behind me.

We spent the reminder of our childhood pretending The Incident never happened.

The Naked Barbie Incident

I never looked at that boring four-poster bed the same.

The Poop Name Game

Sarah 4 Comments

Every object has two names. A regular name and a Poop Name.

Benefits of this game:

  1. You don’t need cards.
  2. You can play by yourself or with friends.
  3. It’s easy.
  4. Infinite poopabilities.

How to play:

  1. Pick an object.
  2. Insert “poop” into the object’s name.
  3. Laugh.

The Poop Name Game

The Poop Name Game

The Poop Name Game

The Poop Name Game

 

The Poop Name Game

OR

The Poop Name Game

The Poop Name Game

The Poop Name Game

 

family pooptrait

 

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

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family pooptrait - Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

I had a family of six until Melissa kicked the can.

My sister Melissa was short like my mom, blonde like my dad and when she was younger, she liked to make naked Barbies have sex.

My siblings and I were never given the option to dislike one another, which prompted us to grow close. Before Melissa died, our roles in the family were clearly defined by birth order.

pack leader - Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

middle children - Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

the baby - Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

Joe still needs his diaper changed.

It took me years of relentless teasing to break my brother. Joe and I played fun games together, like me teasing him and him asking me to stop.

“Cut it out!” he would scream.

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

Joe would finally walk away.

big teddy - Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

Once his back turned, I dropped his possessions.

My fingers moved in rapid scissor motion. Cutting it out, I murmured: “cut, cut, cut…”

cut it out - Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

He would shout:

scissors - Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

But I was always doing the scissors.

cut it out - Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

As a middle child, my role included skirting my responsibilities.

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

Despite my mother’s best efforts, I was usually acquitted.

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

My younger sister Emily bought us lunch.

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

Melissa was the hardest sibling to torment because she was a step ahead of me. Eighteen months is a significant age difference when you’re a kid.

She knew I was a greedy little girl who loved money, so she glued a quarter to the kitchen floor.

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

In high school, I wore cool t-shirts.

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

At the same time that I was wearing these shirts, I was desperately trying to hide my issues with Irritable Bowel Syndrome (constant diarrhea).

If I had lived during caveman times, I would have been naturally selected out.

natural selection - Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

Diarrhea is an embarrassing problem.

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

And the all-girl mob always follows.

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

I would have to hold in diarrhea while peeing. Tortuously unsatisfying.

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

I would do anything to keep it from people.

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

“Let it go….Let it go…”

Daily diarrhea before 9:00 am is one of my superpowers. When I went off to college, I continued to master the art of hiding my diarrhea problems. The professor of an 8:00 am art class had a strict attendance policy: be late more than twice, and get docked a letter grade.

I spoke with my art professor, hoping to garner sympathy for my case.

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

Naturally, she was cool about it.

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

Nearing the end of college, I figured I should attempt adult things. So I got a summer internship.

It was the most courageous thing I had ever done.

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

While I was abroad, I got a Facebook message about Melissa from someone I didn’t know.

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

I was confused by the cryptic message.

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

I questioned the cryptic message.

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

The Facebook stranger was the first to break the news to me.

I doubt the person had any idea how terrible it felt to receive earth-shattering news from a stranger via social media.

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

A lot of things happened quickly.

Head first, I was cast from my coveted position as middle child.

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

A new sign formed above my head.

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

I was given a new hat.

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role

With Melissa gone, my time as pack leader had begun.

Oldest sister found dead; real tragedy occurs when middle sister assumes leadership role