BLT's & Depression

I'm not much for cooking. My ADD brain tends to read recipes like this; "1 cup sugar, 1 cup flour, where did I put my car keys, 1 tablespoon vanilla, God the elevator today was playing Vanilla Ice all day today. Um? What? Why is the oven on?".

One thing I can do is fry bacon. (Which incidentally served me quite well till I was 29 and my new husband kept asking me what I was making for dinner.) So I was quite stoked to find this Rachel Ray recipe for BLT Stuffed Tomatoes. Do I like tomatoes? No. But it looks good so I'm pretty sure it will pass at the family holiday party tonight.

And speaking of family members, Dooce's husband wrote a great post about living with someone that has depression. I especially like his last paragraph. Lately I've been a little taken aback at the lack of empathy I hear towards people with depression. "I don't understand why they just don't.....". Makes my nostrils flare up a bit when I hear stuff like that. Flare!

9 comments:

so tired said...

"I don't understand why they just don't....."


Sort of like.......

I just don't understand why anyone would choose to be gay.....

Or I just don't understand why she doesn't lose some weight.....

Or why don't you just quit smoking.....

Or just stop drinking......

Oh life must be so nice and easy for all those people with strong discipline. ;)

Katrina said...

Yeah! Flare!!!!! AND it gets my panties all in a twist like you wouldn't believe!

I hate when people say that! Add "oh you can just adopt" to the list...like it's so EASY!

Grrrrrr...

Oh, The Joys said...

I wish we could hang out for a little bacon cooking and nostril flaring!

Jennifer said...

Flare, indeed!

I make Fidel fry the bacon, I don't want that hot grease spotting my lady hands.

Tilly said...

After having Mini Mint 2.5 years ago, and nearly losing him, I ended up crazy as anything - was diagnosed with Post Partum Depression and Post Traumatic Shock. For a while I was on a crazy amount of drugs, especially after having a psychotic episode where Carmel from the Sopranos started talking to me through the TV, telling me to kill 'im indoors (my god THOSE were fun times).

My MIL is aware of all this, is aware of the fact that I was nearly hospitalised, and still, last night over dinner bitched about all the women who 'claim' to have PPD. How they should pull their socks up and get over it. Of couse, she didn't mean ME, oh no, deary me, just - you know - the others.

Stupid effing bing.

Lotta said...

All- Flare

OTJ - Me too.

Tilly - Ooh that makes me mad! I hate that kind of passive insult. Ooh I'm boiling for you!

Angelina said...

I read that post that Jon Armstrong wrote and it was great.

I get all boiled over the same thing. This is why we have to keep talking about mental illness and our personal experiences with it-as many of us who have it and feel strong enough to bring it into the light need to keep at it. It helps others understand.

I love you for how open you are about your own experiences with mental illness. In a totally non-lesbian way. (In case you were worried.)

Though there are always those twits out there who will continue to say insensitive and ignorant things.

Zanne said...

I'm telling you I took a trip to Depression-Hell and back. It was a harrowing journey but the most crazy-making part of the whole thing was when people would tell me to pull myself up by my bootstraps!!! Actually it was a good therapeutic exercise because it got the ire-level up to volcanic. Once I turned to the person and said, "Look - I don't have bootstraps. Most days I don't have BOOTS and some days I don't even have FEET!!!"

lildb said...

*runs to bathroom to blow out forgotten candle from, like, three hours ago*