Dear Boogie - Volume 4
Dear Boogie,
Just wanted to drop a line after reading your treatise on depression. Bravo on your resilience, truly. As an aspiring expert in the field of caring but not-caring, I'm itching to know: what's your secret formula for maintaining the energy to muster up a "meh" in the face of the despair of it all? Because you seem like you’re doing stuff. And I’m not really doing stuff. I’d like to do stuff, but kind of don’t want to do stuff. Know what I’m saying?
Sincerely,
Bored of Mental Health
Dear Bored,
I do know what you’re saying, my barely-functional friend. Trying. It’s the worst, isn’t it? And yet, it’s the only path forward for any sort of change in quality of life. It’s a bummer that we (I’m assuming you and I are of the same ilk, Bored) don’t have any of the sort of built-in motivational devices that our fellow humans seem to use to push forward like “If I live a good life, I’ll get into heaven!” or “Everything happens for a reason!” or “Santa is watching!” I envy people who believe this claptrap. Do you have any idea how much happier I’d be if I still believed that Santa was watching?
No, Bored - we are the cursed skeptics and depressiacs who must find our own reasons to try. It is a long and complicated process to find your own reason for putting in effort, but here is a trick that has worked for me:
Why try? Because it’s funny.
I have a friend (who shall remain nameless) in her forties who used to spend a lot of time being unhappy that she hadn’t found “the one.” In her younger years, she had visions of marriage and kids and for reasons completely beyond her control, it just never worked out for her. As a result, her dating life was filled with disappointment and misery. Every first date was saddled with the stakes of “Will this guy finally be the one?” Understandably, most early romantic embers were handily crushed under the massive weight of expectations.
Fed up, she made a switch. Instead of pursuing stable ‘husband material’ guys who would end up breaking her heart, she started dating with one question in mind: “Will this make a funny story?” As a result, she opened herself up to the weirdos. Bipolar graffiti artists with three whole months of sobriety. Conspiracy theorists with a personality disorder and a membership to the Magic Castle. Professional baseball players. Since then, she has been having a blast. Her dating life has been a thrill ride of hilarity, wackiness, and frequent sex with crazy people (which - in case you weren’t aware - is the best kind of sex). She enjoys her social time in a way she never did before. And sure - she’ll probably end up being the subject of a true crime documentary some day, but hey - a small price to pay for some truly hilarious stories, right?
“But Brendan,” you may be yelling at your screen as you get that Harry Potter-themed Nazi tattoo covered, “What she really wants is a husband and family! Are you suggesting we give up on our dreams?” That’s exactly what I’m suggesting, my former white supremacist Gryffindor pal. Your ‘dreams’ were likely the uninformed fantasies of a teenager. Letting go of them is one of the most liberating things you can do. Instead of living in an adolescent dream world, my friend came to the incredibly liberating conclusion of “Meh. Who cares? Let me have fun with this thing.” (“This thing” being her vagina.) And I for one find it inspiring.
Because true happiness is laughing at everything. Even the heavy stuff that’s supposed to “matter.” In the end, it doesn’t. Misery is taking life seriously at all. It’s all just fodder for a story. Make yours a page-turner.
Boogie Writes is a completely independent endeavor by one hard-working funnyman trying to make his way in the world today (which takes everything you’ve got.) If you like what you read, please subscribe, support, and tell a friend! Also - do you need advice? Of course you do! Send your queries to brendan@brendanboogie.com with “Dear Boogie” in the subject and get some solid or at least passable advice!