If I were an NBC sitcom star, I just know they would pick me to deliver one of those “The More You Know” gold-nuggets-of-advice spots between commercials.
Don’t do drugs! Abstinence is cool! Racism is for losers! Love your own totally gorgeous unique self, unless you’re one big fuggaroo, in which case, you’re on your own! I’m Mariska and my mother was Jayne Mansfield! Talk about great bone structure! The More You Know!
I am not an NBC sitcom star, because I have crooked bottom teeth, a wide nose, way too much junk in the trunk, a violent allergy to both New York City and L.A, and I sleep with pillows on my head.

So I sit on my junky trunk and write a blog instead. But! There’s no reason you should be cheated out of my The More You Know!
EXCEPTION: Now, some of you (only you, God and your unbelievably unfortunate dogs know who you are) leave comments that read I WANT TO F**K A DOG UP THE *SS. I do not expect to be able to reach you, you with your miserable, quaking curs slitting their fuzzy wrists on your bathroom floor. You people need a very different The More You Know!, one that I am not qualified to deliver, maybe something along the lines of Samuel L. Jackson growling at the camera:

F**king a dog ain’t cool, dude! Be a real best friend to man’s best friend! Go plushie, man! The More You Know! All right!
No. No no. Godspeed to you and those godforsaken canines. Please do not contact me again.
I have other things to tell the world. My The More You Know! goes like this:
Wondering what to say to a sad friend? Here’s what you don’t say: you don’t preface a sentence with YOU JUST HAVE TO or YOU JUST NEED TO or IF YOU COULD JUST.
Why? I’ll tell you why. If any one of those phrases finds its way out of your well-meaning mouth and into a truly sad person’s ears, it becomes mighty clear mighty fast to him or her that profound, persistent sadness is not your forte, and trying to explain it to you will be about as helpful as trying to explain the difference between chartreuse and spring green to someone who’s colorblind.
I tell you this because that sad person is going to think twice before telling you anything the next time around. The More You Know, The More You Won’t! This is not good for you, nor is it good for the very sad person.
So what to do? There are a few options. If you don’t understand this kind of sadness, first give thanks (privately, please). Admit that you don’t know the difference between chartreuse, spring green and sage. Admit that it is painful not to know, not to understand, because you care. Admit that it is confusing to you, and that you want to help. Repeat as necessary.
Encourage your favorite sad person to talk. If he or she can’t talk, not then, let your favorite sad person know that’s okay too. If your favorite sad person does not like the phone—gets twitchy at the mere mention of the phone—then email. Email is often a great way to stay connected to your favorite sad person. It requires no happy face on his or her part. Don’t like email? Send a letter. Believe you me, you might not hear back, but it will be appreciated. Your favorite sad person is not being rude. Be pissed off, be annoyed, be whatever you feel, then say to yourself these very important words: This is not about me.
If your sad friend or relative does start talking, listen. Listen. Listen hard, listen well. Then listen some more. Ask a few questions, for clarification, if you must, but do not preface those questions with BUT WHAT IF YOU JUST or HAVE YOU EVER THOUGHT OF. They fall into the same category as the other three Bad News Bears statements, and inside, the sad person will die a little more. Because most sad people have already tried the WHAT IF YOU JUST, and they have certainly thought of the HAVE YOU EVER THOUGHT OF. Sad people are not stupid people. Sad people are deeply, deeply frustrated by their inability to use their smarts to make themselves feel better. This frustration converts easily to shame. Don’t help it along.
Don’t ask too many questions. Questions are hard for truly sad people. They are very embarrassed about not having answers. Answers don’t come easily when you are really sad. Breathing is hard too. Fog in the head, in the mouth, in the chest, in the gut. Thick fog, sometimes. They might not be able to tell you what’s in the refrigerator, where the kids are going to camp, what restaurant they ate at the other night, how they’ve been. It’s not that they are flaky; it’s just that when the thick fog rolls in, the words simply won’t come.
When I say truly sad people, I’m not talking about your whiny Aunt Tess who always has something to moan about, enjoys a good moan, always did. I’m not talking about your Eeyore pal Bob who will continue talking you to death about his lifetime misery. If you’re having identification problems, here’s a tip: the saddest person around is often the one who looks the happiest at a party, if he or she manages to get to that party. The truly sad, overwhelmed folks are mortified at the prospect of becoming your Aunt Tess or pal Bob. Unlike Aunt Tess or pal Bob, who don’t mind being the way they are, and blame the rest of the world for All That Sucks.
Truly sad people blame themselves first. Almost always. They do not blame you, or their ex-wife’s family, or their co-workers, or their children. Their pain comes from within, not from external sources.
Truly sad people know they are blessed. They can see their many blessings. The problem is, the happiness that is supposed to trot beside those blessings will not come when they call. No amount of wishing or wanting will make that damned blessed happiness come back home.
This is a horrifying dilemma for a truly sad person. Again, they are smart, and they know perfectly well there are many reasons to be happy. Do not remind them of those reasons. It will not help the situation. If you don’t believe me, sit on your bed for four hours straight and repeat over and over, in a loud cheery voice, I AM BLESSED I AM BLESSED I AM BLESSED. See if that exercise makes you feel blessed, or just very, very tired. (If it makes you feel extrasuperspecial blessed, consider a career change to motivational speaker.)
Truly sad people are following all the get-better, get-happy rules. They have been for some time, for longer than you know. They have been working round the clock trying to Make It Better, Make It Stop, Follow Directions, Think Positive Thoughts, Consider Yoga, Take Fish Oil, Get More Exercise, Get a Second Opinion, Read That Book, Stop Wallowing, Accept Jesus Christ As Savior, Embrace Buddhism, Have More Sex, Take More Pills, Take Less Pills, Put Affirming Post-Its On Mirror.
The truly sad folks who hear you say IF YOU WOULD JUST perceive doubt and bafflement in your voice. They do not wish to be a Sad Irritating Nuisance to you (or to anyone), so they are quick to clam up. If you’d like them to clam up, then by all means, say IF YOU WOULD JUST or MAYBE YOU NEED TO a few times. That will do the trick.
Otherwise, go lightly, go kindly, and keep listening. There are no easy fixes. I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating.
My mother is not Jayne Mansfield and I have junk in my trunk! But my dogs are happy! The More You Know!

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Jenn: Please forgive me for writing again, but I have thought quite a bit about this topic over the past week and of course you. It is so kind of you to share what you are going through in this way, and I hope in some small way it helps you.
After reading about your sadness, I’ve been contemplating my own life this week and wondering what kind of sadness I might have. Would crying jags for no apparent reason qualify as deep sadness? Or is it just the stress-related sadness of a working mom with three kids blowing off steam? I sometimes like to think I have everything figured out in my life, and am in complete control, but the truth is that I don’t, not really.
I met with my girlfriend last weekend and she was so kind. She’s a nurse (sometimes I call her late at night to ask her whether that rash on my toddler’s butt is something to be concerned about and she runs on over, so I tend to think she’s qualified to give advice to everyone she encounters, especially her friends). She could see the weary look in my eyes over lunch. I told her I was fine but she knew I wasn’t totally fine. She knows I was coping, but exhausted. When I started crying, she saw it as sadness. I wasn’t sure what it was, even though the crying only lasted a few minutes. She offered all kinds of great advice, like trying to get my crazy household on some sort of routine and me actually getting to bed a little earlier, getting a housekeeper, taking my vitamins, praying more… I liked all of her advice and vowed to take some of it. Honestly, this week I’ve been doing more of these things, except for the housekeeper (which I can’t afford). For some odd reason, I actually feel better this week than last. Though, again I know my sadness doesn’t sound like the deep kind that won’t work with advice.
I tend to think that the moments in my life when I have been the saddest have either been when I had just experienced a significant loss (my dad died two years ago), or when I felt that life was out of control. For me, this week, I felt a little more in control, and actually a little less tired.
Anyway, my point is THANK YOU for bringing this topic up in such a frank and honest way. I think it may have affected many more people than you know, and though that might not make you feel any better, perhaps it can bring a small smile to your face. At least I hope so. Thanks again Jenn!
Ouch. Hit a bit of a nerve there. And yet…I kind of enjoyed it.
Excellent post!
I’m so sorry that you’re depressed again (well, ever, really). Having the friends who can listen without offering brilliant suggestions is one of the greatest blessings I have, and I wish the same for you. The other people need to be *ahem* corrected in their thinking.
“Have you ever tried to just cheer up? We all get a little blue…”
“Have you ever tried eating through a straw?” *BAM!*
So I’m watching a show this past weekend and two characters are exploring an old, condemed house. One character says she likes old things because they make her sad. Her friend says “whats good about being sad?” and she replies:
“Sad is happy for deep people.”
It made me think of this post. And…there’s some truth in it I think. A little.
I think maybe you are my favorite sad person now…
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