Looking out my Backdoor: Do you ever get down in the mouth?

Depression by any other name is no rose, let me tell you.

Steve and Theresa, my friends from my long-time home in Washington, are back in their home. We had a lovely time together; I especially treasure the stories we told, peeling back layers to reveal more of ourselves.

When friends leave me, typically I count on three days depression before I can get myself back in gear. I don’t mean deep-clinical-want-to-rip-my-heart-out-with-a-rusty-machete-and-no-anesthetic type depression. Just a low-level down in the dumps.

Hey, they are my friends. We just had 10 days of intimacy. They flew away. I’m left alone. I miss them. To make it worse, I am the only gringa on the rancho. Isolated.

But I’m leaving on a jet plane for a couple weeks visit with my daughter and her family so I need to buck up, pull myself together.

What to do? I consider some typical remedies. Ah, ha! Booze. I live in Jalisco, home state of Tequila. I’m serious. Look it up. But then I remember that I’ve already tried that. Didn’t work for me then and I doubt it will work for me now. So scratch that option.

Food? I’ve said that I’ve never met a food I didn’t like. Can’t say I’m too fond of chittlins but I’ve eaten them, admittedly, in a social situation in which it would have been quite rude to turn my nose. I’m not anxious to taste eels but they might be yummy.

Comfort food. Let me see. Chocolate. Bread in any form. Pineapple empanadas, a form of bread. As is chocolate croissant. Problem is, I already had breakfast and I’m not hungry and I need to figure out what will make me feel better right now.

Tea! A cup of tea. Always a good thing, tea with milk and sugar. Steaming hot. Ahhh.

Then there is retail therapy. Unfortunately, I hate shopping. At any rate, I have no money. No problem. Shop online and slide the magic plastic. But I’m afraid that would bore me to tears and I’m already in tears so what kind of solution is that?

I hate to bring logic into the picture but here goes. Not only do I dislike shopping but there is nothing I need. Or want, really.

Activity is good. I have a friend who cleans closets when she is feeling down. I could deep-clean my house. But why? I’m leaving; the house will be empty. I have another friend who follows her suitcase out the door with a wet mop in hand. Me? I will clean when I return, windows and all.

Exercise? You are kidding, aren’t you?

Maybe gambling? Buy a lottery ticket? I know a couple of sweet women friends who derive great pleasure from casino machines. I don’t get it. But, if there were a pot of 20 tickets and I bought 19, the other ticket purchaser would win. My luck.

Comes from a misspent childhood. I’ve thought this one out. If you are going to be born, choose to be a single child or one of a large family.

Here’s why: in my family, I was “encouraged” to throw the game and let younger sister win. Why? Because she was little and whined. If you must have a single sibling, be the younger. It pays.

In a large family, life is a free-for-all. Games are “grab what you can” and whiners are ignored.

Okay, I get it. I’m whining. I’ll take a shower and get dressed. Pajamas at noon? Not my style. I’ll play some music. Blues always make me feel happy. Or real old country and western.

I’ll roll my suitcase in from the bodega and start packing. Go sit under the jacaranda and watch butterflies, track the birds, listen to the cicadas. Sp another cup of tea.

A sure way to feel better is to talk with friends. You are “it.” Today you get to be my ears, hear my sorry story.

Tomorrow I’ll be on my way north, excited and full of anticipation and joy to be back in Montana, even for a few days.

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Sondra Ashton grew up in Harlem but spent most of her adult life out of state. She returned to see the Hi-Line with a perspective of delight. After several years back in Harlem, Ashton is seeking new experiences in Etzatlan, Mexico. Once a Montanan, always. Read Ashton’s essays and other work at montanatumbleweed.blogspot.com. Email sondrajean.ashton@yahoo.com.