Friend of mine says I need a prescription from my doctor. Other friends say to say no to drugs. Me? As you would predict: I don't know if I care. I just don't get what's going on.
It's a new thing, only building up this year (if I remember right). Do I miss my wife in spite of everything? My dogs? Am I psychically tied to my father who is so depressed by his failing health he hasn't shaved or even brushed his hair for a week? Am I overwhelmed by the simple tasks of packing and preparing, like a child suddenly abandoned by the grownups? I don't know. It's weird.
Judging by blogs I read, men and adults don't admit to weak moments. But fuck that. Here's the note. Now to bed, and to see if in a short morning I can get literally everything together.
11 comments:
It is a writerly thing to be depressed and each one battles it in their own way. But it is not fun and I care for you, Don. Apart from that anything I say would sound trite.
You sound just completely drained. I hope your time away will offer clarity and relaxation. Or at least relaxation. Clarity may be more than any of us can hope for.
Yeah, men rarely admit to this, and so depression has been seen as a woman's disorder, mostly. But it's pervasive and there are myriad triggers and causes.
Living in a relentless stream of stresses punctuated by traumatic emotional events can be one of those causes.
You actually left your wife. There's a heavily traumatic event that, even with years in the making, even with anticipation and preparation, nevertheless hits you. You're living in a stream of work-related stress. And you've always been a sensitive person, questioning your motives, abilities, the rightness of what you've chosen. You've immersed yourself in self-doubt -- that, too, causes stress.
Medication? Only if it's temporary, something to bump you up so that you can then apply cognitive behavioral techniques to better effect. I'm not a fan of meds. I understand their uses, however, and know they can sometimes be warranted if you can't pull yourself out.
But for now? No. The respite from work, from the strain of your daily life -- your trip to the desert, your journey home. That will help lift you.
And, if it suits you, perhaps you can explore some of those alternative methods while you're there. Go to that yoga thingie. Participate in that choir. Stand guard over those critical tits. Dance. Meditate. Live. Love. Bathe in the positive, the upbeat, the whole. Turn yourself outward. For a week.
Fight on, Don.
Sounds trite, but getting away from the daily routines and going on your trip will probably be the best thing for you, Don. I think when we're faced with yet another challenge/change, we tend to look back and re-mourn other stuff. At least, I seem to do that. Forex, I don't cry about my mom so much these days, except when something else is going on, like missing Sharon. Then suddenly I'm sad about Mom all over again, too. Weird. It's like my brain goes into sad-dump mode. OK, all bad feelings, let's go, right now!!
Anyway. Have a great time and don't forget to take pics! :)
I woke up at 4:30 am and decided this post was lame and was going to delete it but there were already two comments, so I couldn't.
Bob, I knew it, yet more proof (dammit Jim) I'm a writer, not an engineer.
Teacake, drained, absolutely, and of course I blame myself for that too, which doesn't help.
N., yes to all. (And how could anyone not adore you?)
Paula, I guess the sad-dump has to happen but damn, really? Over not having yet fixed my bicycle? Even that? ;-)
Scheduled lift-off is in just under seven hours and cannot be delayed as the journey includes interception of a passenger at another city's airport. Here we go! Thank you very much, my good friends.
Even the greatest men break down. In the middle of your life, you wake up in the dark forest and the one true way is not clear--or something like that.
I think it's like the tree analogy. The more rigidly you resist the forces against you, the more likely you are to topple. But if you remain soft and bend, you get through more or less intact.
Bending's good. If you're not going to be the same, you won't have the same emotional responses, will you? You're expanding your repertoire.
May your time in the desert help you be whole again.
Let the desert and your community love you back to health until you feel can do it on your own.
What everyone else said. Big hug, Don. Have fun in the desert!
I'm lookin' over the comments here and, by golly, pert near every one of the commenters has experienced some level of depression -- some of it clinical, even!
You're not alone. I know you know that. 's'why you've reached out and why we've responded.
Remember: soon's you hit the road, you've finished packing. Put everything else in your rearview mirror. Everything else. Just the desert in front of you.
Oh no I'm late, the boat has left and I shuffle around the empty pier kicking confetti and swigging my bottle of Champagne. Is that a harbor chick trying to make eye contact? I'm gettin' out of here. I shall watch for a pillar of smoke in the West! hang in, Bud.
Press on, and think of England!
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