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Saturday, January 05, 2008

No particular reason

In the movie Forrest Gump, Forrest ends up running all the way across the country. People asked him why he was doing it, and he kept telling them, "For no particular reason." And then, for no particular reason at all, he turned around and ran across the other way.

I keep thinking about that in terms of my life. I might as well just fess up right here and now and tell you all that I'm depressed. For no particular reason. Probably hormonal, given the fact that I have disgusting zits all over my body, in places no grown woman should get them, and really, in no places anyone should have to have them. But there they are. And it could be that I watched this happy/sad/happy movie that usually would be in my hate pile given that it did not end with a satisfying romantic conclusion except she did get rid of the dirt bag hubby. Oops, I just ruined the movie. Good thing I didn't tell you what it was. And it could be that I'm overwhelmed with life. The usual too much to do, no time to do it in, no confidence to back any of it up, but because it's what I do best, I'm faking it real well. And maybe it's that I came to some intense realizations about my life, and I really don't know what to do with it.

But mostly, it's for no particular reason.

Like most Americans, rather than hearing about news that matters like, oh I don't know, people still starving in Africa (old news, really, didn't they have some concert benefit or something), I've seen all the breaking news reports about a certain young pop star who is in the middle of a mental breakdown and as a result is losing custody of her kids. She's been on my prayer list for a while now. I started back when I saw how DSD's soccer team idolized her and I worried about having someone like that as a role model for the kiddos. And that was before the breakdown. Now here she is, her life falling apart and people are stampeding to try and cash in on whatever they can, whether it be photos, interviews, or the exclusive story on why she broke down.

And you know what I want to know? What does it matter? She's just a girl, who, like all of us, is trying to make her way in the world. But unlike us, she can't even use a restroom without getting mobbed for the money shot. I don't live under that kind of pressure and there's days when I'd really like to have the luxury of a breakdown. But unlike her, I have things to do like cooking, cleaning, laundry, paying bills, keeping my little terrorists from blowing up the neighborhood, and all that jazz. I know the pressure I put on myself. Fortunately, I'm blessed with a handful of people who choose to love me and believe in all of my dreams. This woman... she's got an army of people following her around, looking for her to fail. Waiting to capture it for the whole world to see. And see they will, selling record numbers of magazines, getting a record number of hits on websites, and giving a few pathetic souls the right to pat themselves on the back. There's a reason I'm not mentioning her by name.

So what's the big deal with this person? Nothing, really. She sold a few albums, made a name for herself, and for whatever reason, it makes us think we have the right to jump into her life, follow her around, and turn her into a three-ring freakshow. Bravo to us. Why do we do it? No particular reason.

Here we are, at the start of a new year, and I just have to wonder, what's it all for? Why are our lives so empty and meaningless? Why am I sitting here, completely depressed when the reality is that I have nothing to be depressed about? Why is the mental breakdown of a person so much more fascinating to us than finding real solutions to helping people in need? Why can we talk about her for hours and never talk about things that are real?

The truth is, I lied when I said there was no particular reason. There's a reason. One important reason. We're focused on everything but the important reason. We supposedly just spent a holiday celebrating that reason, but let's get real here. All most of us really spent was a little more money than what we had. We need God. I need God.


Robbie Iobst said...

Danica, I admire you writing about a topic many of us deal with including me. And you wrote about it with such honesty. I encourage you to focus on the word HOPE - it always helps me when I start feeling the vail of depression descending on my eyes. Cudos to you for not trying to mask this or fake some holier than thou perkiness when you feel like you do. Jesus cherishes you just the way you are right now!

Pammer said...

Wow. You hit the nail on the head.

Praying for you, girl.


Anonymous said...

I've struggled with this as well. Sometimes I wonder if depression is the bubonic plaque of today. After all, Satan knows how to hit where it hurts. His goal is destruction, and He doesn't care how He accomplishes it.

Danica Favorite said...

I'm glad this hit home with folks. It's definitely easier to get through these blah times with friends.