This afternoon, I attended a wonderful fund-raiser for a friend who is in politics. It was a nice crowd because there were no right-wing nut-jobs there. As I pointed out to my friend/local state candidate, Labor may disappoint at times but at least they make a bloody try to do good.
Admittedly, a few of my more snobby gags went awry (I love the public transport system in Melbourne, I just don't like the public who use it!) but on the whole, I think they liked me.
I always get terribly anxious prior to social gatherings - especially when I only know a handful of people attending. I don't just get nervous and a bit "diarrhoea-y" but I also become a bit grumpy because I just know I'm going to make a complete arse of myself.
I dressed up as nice as I could (just pleased I could fit into an old suit - a week of conference food and about eight gallons of Sauvignon Blanc has not been kind to my figure!) and I ventured out to the inner suburbs with a heavy heart and a jaunty step. The latter mainly because my two-tone shoes are a tad too tight.
I was the first to arrive (as ever) and I chit-chatted awkwardly with the host whom I had never met before. Eventually others drifted in and I have to say it must be a record that it took me at least 20 minutes before I uttered the "c" word. In fairness, I was quoting a New Zealand couple I used to babysit for, so I think I got away with it.
As ever the soiree was peppered with couples. Gay men, lesbians, straights... couples, couples, couples... so any chance of picking up was sorely scuppered. Admittedly, a political fund-raiser is not the sort of place to pick up, but I am getting desperate. I'll be loitering around skips in car parks with my underpants on my head soon, in an attempt to lure potential mates. It's becoming quite lonely in my apartment these days.
Anyway, I was more or less on my best behaviour and I spent a lovely few hours chatting to a couple of nurses about Victoria Wood.
On the way home, after a few drinks, I fell into that emotional trap in which I start berating myself, my heart, and my brain. I began wallowing in self-pity, hating those who constantly post pictures of themselves and their loved ones having "hilarious times" in Majorca or enjoying their joyous days with their family/offspring/hired beautician.
I think to myself "Why can't I have that?" and begin getting all bitter and weepy. I think of all those happy gay couples who have strong, beautiful relationships with TWO INCOMES and great holidays every year. I get jealous of the straight couples with babies who are applauded the first time they do a shit the same colour as the nursery wallpaper. I wail in deep regret that I fucked up at school (I honestly blame the whole gay thing wrecking my hormones and my ability to think straight - ho ho ho) and will never be able to forge a proper career for myself. I rant to the skies that my brother inherited all the talent from my parents and I only got the neuroses!
Then I stop.
I remember the things I do have.
I have a roof over my head.
I am in reasonable health (for a fatty-boom-bah)
I have a job (not a great one, but it pays the bills... just!)
I have a beautiful cat who adores me (at tea time and breakfast)
I have an abundance of friends, old and new, who don't judge me for my flaws.
I have a loving family.
I have a nice penis.
You see... things are relative. I have my crashing downers and sometimes things seem so dark. But I force myself to remember that for every shit thing, there's a variety of superb things which some people in this world DO NOT HAVE AT ALL!!
So, that's my post. Yes, I suffer from depression, but tonight I am grateful. For all the things I mentioned above... Sometimes I should look no further than the glorious things around me.