banish

ban·ish /ˈbaniSH/ verb

send (someone) away from a country or place as an official punishment.
forbid, abolish, or get rid of (something unwanted).

DeeDee was sad. DeeDee was always sad—well, either sad, or nothing. But today DeeDee was a very deep, echoing, hopeless kind of sad (as opposed to a deep, echoing, hopeless kind of nothing).

Why?

Well, it wasn't hard to be the saddest of sads, the gloomiest of glooms, the glummest of glums, the forlornest of forlorns, the emptiest of empties, the ennui-est of ennuis—

Okay, DeeDee was putting it off. But I'll just come right out with it.

Their friends didn't want them around anymore. And neither did I.

“You're no fun! You make everything worse!” said Joy.

“You're not even up for a good debate!” said Anger.

“I'm worried there's something truly wrong with you!” said Fear.

“Plus you never take care of yourself. You smell awful!” said Disgust.

“I'm sorry about this. It's just... you're even bumming me out,” finished Sadness, and that was that.

DeeDee sighed. They'd seen this day coming, they'd anticipated it, and yet, here it was, still knocking the metaphorical wind from their metaphorical sails.

“I don't know what to tell you all,” DeeDee said simply. “This is just me.”

“Yeah, and you stink!” Disgust re-emphasized.

The words stung quite a bit, but also didn't sting very much at all. DeeDee was aware of the need to feel ashamed, embarrassed—and DeeDee was, to be sure. But also, doing anything about it was just. Too. Much.

“Depression, it's time,” Joy said diplomatically. “We tried to welcome you, but you've overstayed.”

Anger chimed in with vigor: “Big time!”

Joy continued, “We'll be better off without you. You'll probably be better off without us.”

“Or worse!” Fear exclaimed. Joy shot them a look.

“Where do I go?” asked DeeDee.

“Out!” That was Anger, of course.

“There's the Suppress Crevasse,” Sadness spoke up. “I've considered going there when I'm unwanted.”

“You're never unwanted, Sadness!” Joy declared, aghast.

“Speak for yourself,” Anger nudged Disgust. The pair snickered.

“We don't even know what's down there...” Fear worried, eyes like saucers.

“You'll do fine!” exclaimed Joy. “Maybe it's just what you need!”

“Maybe,” DeeDee said simply. “Maybe.”

And with that, DeeDee left Headquarters.

I wish I could say it was that simple. I really, really do. But that wouldn't be fair to DeeDee. Or to myself.

At first, DeeDee's presence did seem to release its hold. But it was never truly forgotten. It was an undercurrent, a concern that penetrated even Joy's unflappable mien: The idea that DeeDee might defy the group’s decision and show their face back in Headquarters at any time.

“Depression's not here. But that stench is not gone!” Disgust pinched the bridge of their nose and squinted with revulsion.

“Depression's gonna be back when we least expect it. I just know it. Is no one else terrified?” That was Fear.

“Depression knows they have to stay away!” Anger.

“And Depression will!” Joy.

Everyone turned to Sadness, ready for them to chime in. Sadness just looked down.

“Depression will,” Joy insisted.

But the thing about DeeDee is that they were never able to reach the Suppress Crevasse. Every signpost directed them on a different path, looping them around and around, this way and that, farther and closer and farther again. DeeDee forged on, saw the sights, and yet didn't take in much of their surroundings at all.

DeeDee wandered and roamed, wandered and roamed. Eventually, somehow—probably when they stopped using the signposts—they finally made it to their destination.

Well, a destination.

Back at Headquarters.

Just as I always expected Depression would.