The (not so) Great Depression

I have always considered myself an optimist.

Glass half full.

All that stuff.

I’ve always felt like it was a big waste of time to wallow in the negative.

Staying positive has always been second nature to me.

Until now.

This new life of mine is starting to take its toll.

And I don’t like it.

Not one bit.

All of a sudden, being optimistic is taking up a lot of my energy.

Let’s be honest here.

My heart was broken a few months ago.

You could say shattered.

Not only was I excited about being back in the employed column.

But I was even more excited about the life that was ahead of me.

And ahead for my family.

And in one moment.

One unexpected moment.

Poof.

It ended.

Disappeared, right in front of my eyes.

And my story is not one of a kind.

And I’m certainly not asking for your sympathy.

Sure, my details may be a little different than yours.

Or the guy down the street.

Or the single mom with two kids.

But the feelings we have are all the same.

And you don’t have to remind me that there are people who have it a whole lot worse than me.

I know that.

But I don’t have to live in their skin.

And they don’t have to live in mine.

In the immortal words of the great American poet Kesha Rose Sebert:  we r who we r.

We each have our own stuff to deal with.

I’ve tried writing about the good things that go on in my day.

Instead of the bad.

And there are A LOT more good than bad.

I’ve tried to live in the happy moments.

Instead of the sad.

I’ve tried to put on a good face.

When I can.

But that face is fading.

Fading fast.

And that is starting to eat away at me.

What really bums me out is being bummed out.

And not being able to stop it.

A good friend emailed me yesterday.

It went exactly like this.

Word for word.

Him:  How you doing? What's new?

Me:   Miserable, but thanks for asking.

He didn’t respond.

Why would he?

Who wants to chat with Debbie Downer.

Yesterday I was at my son’s first baseball practice of the year.

I hadn’t seen most of the parents since last summer.

As in last summer, when I told them that I had taken a great job.

On the other side of the country.

We live in a fairly small town USA.

So when I arrived at practice, everyone was already up-to-date on my life.

But one of the dads wanted more details.

And he wanted to know how I was doing.

So he asked.

Bad move on his part.

For the next ten minutes, I told him the truth.

Honesty is the best policy, right mom?

Let’s face it, I am in a serious funk right now.

But it’s a part-time funk.

In one breath, I’m talking about the sadness.

In the next breath, I’m analyzing the BCS Championship Game.

One second, I’m explaining how miserable I feel.

The next, how fortunate I am.

And how I don’t know where I’m going next.

And how happy I am to be home with the family.

And how confusing this all is.

And how lucky I am.

Let me tell you, this game of ping pong sucks.

A few days ago I got a call from one of my former bosses.

Who is now one of my current friends.

And one of my most loyal readers.

She left me a voice mail:

“Been reading your blog and I’m detecting -- as I don’t think anybody else would -- um, some depression.   So, I wanted to check in with you to make sure you are doing ok.”

I called back within a few minutes.

And we had a good talk.

I told her she was right.

And then I told her about a situation a few weeks ago when I was at the supermarket.

When out of nowhere I got hit by a ton of bricks.

Not a real ton of bricks.

That would’ve left a mark that everyone could see.

This was a ton of bricks that only I could feel.

I was with my wife in the meat department when my mind started wandering.

And when it landed, I had hit a full-on depression.

Within seconds.

For the rest of the time in the market and the entire ride home, I remained silent.

I even turned off the car radio.

And if I turned off The History of Howard Stern, you know I’m not in a very good place.

People battle with depression every day.

And I would say EVERY case is a lot worse than mine.

And for issues that are a lot more serious than mine.

I know that I could walk down any main street in this great country and find a dozen people who are worse off than me.

And I realize that.

But I don’t live in their skin.

And they don’t live in mine.

Writing this blog has introduced me to some of the most genuine, caring, special people I could ever hope to meet.

And the stories they have shared with me are so inspiring.

And so heartbreaking.

And quite honestly it makes me ashamed to be whining.

But right now I’m just keepin it real.

And right now, I feel real bad.

But I am optimistic it will get better.......

Soon.