I had a bad week last week, depression wise. It’s something I’ve fought on and off for years, and the stress of the previous weekend caught up with me last Tuesday. After a few days of moping G asked on Saturday if there was anything that would cheer me up after work. I got him to drive me to the local Asda supermarket.
Now a supermarket doesn’t cheer me up, in fact when they are busy I find them oppressive. But Asda sells something that I decided to buy to cheer myself up.
These to be exact.
They cost £1.97 and have a random pony figure inside. I bought £10 worth.
Bagged them up, went back to the car and opened them, cheering when I got Twilight Sparkle and Applejack. G just looked at me, thinking I’d finally lost it. Then he decided if it made me happy, what the hell. But he did ask if I felt childish buying them.
I’m 31. I cared for my disabled mum from the age of 11. I still care for her on and off now, as well as my 74 year old dad (they are no longer together). I work 5 days a week. I am grown up a hell of a lot of the time. So I buy ponies, play computer games, cover the top of the tv with stuffed animals and watch cartoons sometimes. Childish? Who cares! It’s my way of forgetting about the stress of my mums illness, the customer who was a prat during the day, the bills I have to pay. It stops me feeling so depressed I can’t function. I can’t understand people who are serious All. The. Time. Where do they get their joy from? I watch My Little Pony Friendship is Magic and see the positive messages it puts across and it makes me feel good. I love The Gruffalo, I can’t wait til I have kids I can read it to!
So a bit of childishness sometimes is a good thing.
And don’t forget the words of George Bernard Shaw:
“We don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.”
And if all else fails, remember this from Dr Seuss: