Ennui

Dear Dr. Phil,

Hi, my name is Ward and I live in an apartment. I can't tell you where that apartment is, because (as you can see) while I know how to read and write, use the internet, and upload photos of myself, I can't tell you where I live because I don't totally understand the concept of states. No, I GET that they are constitutional territories that form part of a federal union (I'm not an idiot), I just don't understand the nuances of their powers in relation to the federal government. That and I can't actually name any states yet. Buttercream? Is that a state? Or maybe Van Halen? I feel like that's a state.

Anyway, Dr. Phil, I was wondering if you could help me out. I was born in July and things were pretty great for a while. I got to sleep and eat all of the time, people were quiet, there was a lot of watching Judge Alex. It was summer and always sunny. Mom didn't shower, Dad didn't sleep, and I didn't have a care in the world.

But now it's October and things have changed.

I think I've got the depression.

I mean, I'm fine, I guess. I don't know. It's just that there are leaves everywhere and it's windy and my parents are making me wear this stupid hat that looks like a pumpkin, which makes EVERYONE stop and talk to me like I care what they're saying.

Yes, I know. So cute. Move along.

And Mom went back to work, so I'm stuck at home with Dad, and he doesn't lay around watching Divorce Court or even The View (!!!). He cooks and cleans and studies and tries to sing songs to me. And, even when we do stuff that I like, I...well...I don't know, Dr. Phil, it's just that nothing sounds fun anymore. Not eating, not bath time, not even chewing on stuff. It's all totally boring.

Blah.

Anyway, I saw the show last week where you helped that obese woman get back into the dating game, and it really inspired me. Just like you, I thought she was a hopeless case at first, but you really turned her life around. And if you can help her, I just know you could help me. Right?

You gotta help me, Dr. Phil. I just...feel like...nothing. *sigh* Whatever. You know what? Forget it, just forget I ever sent this letter. It's worthless. No, it's not. I am. I'm worthless.