Keely Copeland

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Laughing Til It Hurts…and What That Has To Do With Depression

Last Friday night, while we were out and about in Bangkok, my friend Jenna danced so hard that she needed a neck brace.

A neck brace!

I was completely unprepared when Jenna pulled said neck brace out of her bag and strapped it on, but she knows herself. She’s not about to just bob and sway on the dance floor. She’s there to Get. Down.

So she carries a neck brace with her, knowing that she’ll inevitably need it.

Now, despite the fact that I’m basically wetting myself while sitting alone in a room recalling this moment, my dear friend didn’t ACTUALLY pull out a neck brace and strap it on. I just thought she was going to. 

She reached in her bag, saying that she needed her “necklace” but I heard “neck brace.” Then I didn’t stop laughing about it for the rest of the night, because the misheard word turned into an ongoing pantomime that had me in stitches.

Hanging out with Jenna is like that. She never turns down an opportunity to share a good laugh and, fortunately, our senses of humor overlap. (@mytherapistsays described it best yesterday:
“I like the type of people whose sense of humor may be described as ‘inappropriate with a chance of ruining family dinner.’”)

When I’m with her, I laugh in the uncontrollable-I-couldn’t-stop-laughing-if-there-was-a-gun-to-my-head way. You know what I’m talking about – those laughs where you couldn’t stop even if you were at the most important business meeting of your life? Or, in my case, getting a massage. I don’t know why, but funny things always happen to me right before massages and then I have uncontrollable giggles throughout the session…and I live in Asia where I don’t speak the same language as anyone who’s massaging me, so it’s very confusing for the masseuse.

The point I’m slowly making my way to is that I’m not one of those people who laughs that way most days. Sure, I laugh. I laugh frequently even. Probably a few dozen times a day.

But not the way I was laughing with Jenna about her neck brace. That kind of uncontrollable, there’s nothing I can do to stop this, abs-hurting laughter only comes out around roughly 5 people on the planet. And at Bert Kreischer shows.  

I’m musing about it today because there’s an important link to depression here. (Weird change of subjects, eh?)

But here’s the link: the kind of laughter that I experience around Jenna and my brothers and at Bert Kreischer shows…there’s nothing about it that’s forced. It just happens. Being around those specific people puts me in perpetual danger of peeing my pants.

Trying to access that “laugh til it hurts” experience in other environments – that, for me, would be 100% forced…and unlikely to succeed.

Here’s what that has to do with depression – back when I mistakenly believed that depression was a chemical imbalance that was best treated with antidepressants, the message was basically “there is something wrong with your brain and it needs to be addressed, so take this pill and address it.”

However, that wasn’t true. My brain chemicals were fine. I just happen to be someone who’s sensitive to her environment (read my dandelions and orchids post if you want context) and, during the time that I was struggling with depression, I was in the wrong environment. To get well, I needed to change my environment.

Some of us are people who laugh ‘til it hurts around basically anyone. My friend Sneh is like that. She’s quick to laugh and it’s a gift.

Others of us, like me, have more conditional access to laughing until it hurts. When I’m in certain environments, polite titters give way to full-body laughs. However, in most environments, that’s not the case.

So…here’s what being a responsible adult means in my book: knowing which type of person you are…then acting on that knowledge.

If I’m someone who only thrives in certain environments (my depression experience), then I really ought to prioritize finding that environment IF I WANT TO THRIVE. If I don’t care about thriving, then any ol’ environment will do. 

What’s stupid (in my opinion) is comparing myself to the people in my life who can thrive anywhere. It doesn’t matter that Sam or Julie or Kayla can thrive just about anywhere they’re planted. I’m not built the same way.

Likewise, I’m not built the same way as Sneh. Sure, she can laugh until it hurts in just about any environment. However, simply wishing I was like her doesn’t help. What DOES help is finding the environments where I DO have access to the thing I’m seeking. Like flying to Bangkok to spend time with Jenna.

I don’t feel like this post is particularly coherent, but I’m publishing it anyway because I’m on a depression kick. What helped me overcome depression is so very different that what I thought helped people overcome depression. And, largely, it was things like this: realizing that I need to give myself a permission slip to be WHO I ACTUALLY AM – sensitive, a little slower to laugh than others, very given to contemplation, etc. – than who I thought I should be – a rugged dandelion who spits out her coffee over the smallest joke.

What I wouldn’t give to know how to share messages like this more concisely…(except I do know – it’s a willingness to edit and I don’t currently have that. Trying to “fix” my wordiness sucks the joy out of Morning Musings and keeping it joyful is my current priority).

Wishing you the right environment for thriving and spit-takes,

Keely