Pile Misery Upon Misery
A few weeks ago, I was hanging out with a guy who is, in every sense of the word, the biggest jerk ever. He tells me hewas going to call his cousin that evening. Being polite, I ask how that cousin(another guy I know) is doing. Said jerk shakes his head, scowls and says, “Not so good…he’s really depressed.”
I found this shocking(not) since said oriinal jerk is also that depressive, woe is me sort. Now, not clincially depressed, just constantly feeling sorry for himself and pulling a BMW session every time you’re near him.
So, why would one depressed jerk spend time talking to another depressed person? Because misery loves company. Frankly, I try to be as supportive as I can to people who have problems, but when I’m depressed, the LAST person I want to talk to is someone who is also depressed. Just makes sense, right?
Well, yes and no. Often, the person in the dumps feels better by pulling others down to his/her level. I don’t get that enjoyment and, really, I don’t necessarily get off on being in a bad mood. But, there I go making sense again.
My opinion(okay, okay, call it advice, if you must) is to stay away from depressed people….especially if you’re prone to depression yourself. If you don’t, guess what? You’ll end up sucking the bottom of humanity right along with them.