Depressed about being kicked off Dancing With the Stars, that is.
Excuse me Kate, a bit of perspective: Your marriage imploded in the most public of ways last year, you have eight kids who will single-handedly be funding the therapy industry in 15 years, and there's an oil spill encroaching the Gulf of Mexico.
You're not depressed. You're pathetic.
It isn't just Kate.
Ever looked at your Facebook and sighed at the long list of vaguebooking references to depression?
I can't find my favorite Crocs. Wah, pity poor me.
We've become a nation that falls back on depression as an excuse for everything.
And the doctors often don't make it better -- we all know which doc in our practice to hit up for easy pharmaceuticals. Those who hold back earn a reputation for being a bit of a hard ass.
Don't get me wrong; I'm not going to pretend depression doesn't exist. After more than 10 years on and off meds, first prescribed not by a general practitioner but by a psychiatrist, most recently prescribed by a psychopharmacologist, I'm all too aware that depression is real.
Terrifying. Debilitating. But real.
Celebrities like Gosselin playing up their "depression" are doing a disservice to the real sufferers of depression. If she'd come out saying the destruction of her marriage had worn her down, I think I could summon some sympathy.
Do you throw the word depression about when you don't mean it?