Greetings from Kicesie (Kimberly)

One YouTuber who I recently found was kicesie. Okay, for the guys (and ~Deb), you will like her videos because (1) she is hot, and (2) she talks a lot about sex. But we are not talking about personal sex stuff. For personal sex stuff, you need to read my blog. But she loves giving sex advice. And we are not talking about "off the cuff" stuff, but real clinical sex stuff. She is a college student, and as I recall, her area of study is psychology.

Okay, for some of us, we will sort of hate her – a tiny bit. She is the girl in school that says, "Oh, I can't keep any weight on! I drink milkshakes and don't gain an ounce." I have had girlfriends who bemoan this. Not 30-something women ever, but when I was in college, some women did say this. And there friends, even good ones, were thinking, "bitch." Not personally, but because they themselves were dealing with the freshman five.



Kimberly is sweet, and I love listening to her voice. When I watch YouTube videos, I normally don't watch the video – I normally just listen. You can say I am an aural¹ gal.

Anyway, from the video I have embedded, she was having a bad time a few days ago. That's sort of what I wanted to talk about today. Depression.

I am not sure people who have not been depressed (and I am talking about clinical depression) can really understand. I have heard others, even recently, say that all you have to do is look at the positives. Well, when someone is depressed, it seems like nothing matters. In Kimberly's video, she mentioned a feeling really down, and she does not really know why. To feel alone, like one does not matter. And you know, I have felt what she is feeling.

It is as if you have lost control of your emotions, of the situation, of life. We want to be in control of everything, and you know, sometimes we just are not in control. For some who lean towards the spiritual, one may want to put one's faith in God. But to tell someone that when they are hurting, well, it really does not help. Sometimes that is not the compassionate thing to do.

For those who have not been depressed, I don't think I can explain depression. I have thought about it, and the words escape me right now. It is worse than writing a poor blog entry (and trust me, I know about poor blogging). It is worse than buttering that last piece of bread in the house and have it fall, butter-side down on the linoleum floor. It is worse than having to choose between Bush and Kerry in a voting booth. And it is worse than watching Entertainment Tonight.

When I think of depression and who can explain it, my thoughts drift to Emily Dickenson. She wrote some very beautiful, very mournful poetry, and she had a lot going on between her ears. Some might say that whatever doesn't kill you, gives you more material as a depressive poet. I don't know if acute nephritis is caused by being so depressed. Probably not. Oh well, I will leave you with one of my favorite Dickinson poems.

HOPE is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I ’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

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¹Not to get aural mixed up with oral. I like oral too, but I wanted to play on the phonic similarity between the two words.