Let me preface this depressing news by saying that I’ve never felt anything but supreme joy when eating a doughnut. However, according to the British Dietetic Association, doughnuts are dangerous to our mental health:
“We tend to crave sugary and fatty foods [like doughnuts] for a quick mood fix, but the sugar crash that follows could make you feel worse … Information is carried between the cells by chemicals such as dopamine. Rising levels of dopamine can boost mood; falling levels are linked to sadness.”
I refuse to accept it. Sorry. Other alleged depression triggers are hot weather, the Internet, vegetarian food, and coffee. So basically, most of the things that bring me joy in life. [Daily Mail UK] Keep reading »
Kleenex ready? Because it sure looks like Sad Keanu has inspired a book. In April, Keanu Reeves released the book, Ode To Happiness, along with artist Alexandra Grant. Made up of grayscale images and lettering that looks it might have been smeared by tears, each page contains an uplifting thought like, “I draw a hot sorrow bath. In my despair room.” The words on the final page of the tome? “It can always be worse.”
So what’s with Keanu’s glumness? Keep reading »
In a few years, the following scenario could actually happen. If you’ve been feeling down, sleepy, and just generally like the color has been zapped out of the world, you can make an appointment with your doctor and say, “Hey doc, can I get a depression test?” Apparently, researchers in Japan on working on a test that would measure the concentration of phosphoric acid in the blood. It’s different from existing tests because (a) it’s fast and (b) it doesn’t require DNA testing, so could even become a part of regular checkups. Meaning, it could detect it when you’re feeling symptoms or when you’re not sure what’s going on. [Telegraph UK]
Oh, but there are so many fascinating tests like this in the works. After the jump, find out about more things you’ll be able to easily diagnose in just a few years. I feel like I’m in an episode of “The Jetsons.” Keep reading »
I lost my virginity at age 15, in a double wide trailer. I remember his abs glowing under the black-light and the mood music–a Ginuwine album on repeat. I had snuck out on a snowy school night, holding my shoes in my hand. I felt sort of frozen and surreal, somehow knowing this was the night, and barely noticing the fact that I was just wearing wet socks in his car.
There isn’t much to describing first time sex. I felt more like I was watching myself from above than experiencing it, thinking Oh my god, this is sex! or Just move your hips with Ginuwine. Afterward, naked and side by side, I stared into his eyes, my heart feeling huge. My virginity had become a burden that past year and this was, surely, a turning point in my life. He suddenly locked eyes with mine and opened his mouth. I wanted to remember every second of this moment.
“Want a Capri Sun?” he asked. Keep reading »
It’s time again for “Dear Wendy Updates,” a feature where people I’ve given advice to in the past let us know whether they followed the advice and how they’re doing today. After the jump, we hear from “Depressed and Unsure,” who, much to her boyfriend’s chagrin, had befriended her BFF’s ex (and boyfriend’s friend) after the broke up. “We both share long-time struggles with chronic depression, and the outlet we’ve found in each other has helped us both immensely. Unfortunately, my boyfriend has taken issue with this new-found friendship.” Keep reading »
Wow, what a crazy past few months. I believe I cared for myself pretty well after my big breakup, which was now almost four months ago. I surrounded myself with my family, which was easy because I moved back in with my parents. I spent a lot of QT with my girl friends. I drank and shopped and watched crappy TV shows, as you do. When I felt ready to poke my head out of my hole and venture out on dates again, I splurged on a couple pairs of sexy heels. I kept myself busy buying furniture for my new apartment, being a good sister and friend, doing my taxes — anything I could think of.
Now I’m all moved into my new place. I go on dates with a new guy, casually, once or twice a week. After months of tiny tornadeos wrecking havoc on the blessed life I had six months ago, outward appearances look like the dust has finally settled.
Inside? That’s a different story. Keep reading »