I have been told that everything happens for a reason.
I have been told, “you’re in the right place, kid!”
I’ve been told, “Don’t quit before the miracle happens.”
And I have argued all the above.
I find myself looking for something that isn’t there.
Has this ever happened to you?
You know there’s something missing.
You know what it is and yet, you can’t give it a name or put your finger on it or say what it is.
You just know . . .
Something is missing.
Something’s just not there.
I used to do these early morning hikes.
I loved these.
My weight and self-esteem was unhealthy to say the least.
I was heavy.
I was sad and worn down.
I had no lust for anything and I had no drive for anything.
I took the trade and settled for a life that was good and yet, something was missing.
I accepted the world “as is,” because at best, I assumed that this was the best that anything would ever be for someone like me.
I had to make a change –
I climbed one of the mountains that was near my house, which of course; I know this sounds bigger than it is when I say mountain and not to overstate anything, I lived in the mountains for a while.
These are not The Rocky Mountains . . .
This is Upstate, New York.
I used to love my early morning hikes.
I lost 60lbs this way.
I would dress warm, despite the warmth outside, and I would hard and step strong as if each of my heavy thoughts needed to be stomped into the ground so that I could get them out.
I walked 4.6 miles every morning with level changes, uphill paths and rugged trails that made me sweat.
I did this every morning.
I changed the way I lived.
I changed my nutrition.
I changed everything and still, something was missing and to be clear, something was simply “not enough.”
I have been asked about the word depression. I have been asked what depression means to me.
And to be clear, I am not sure that my answer has changed or that my answer is the same.
Something always seems to be missing.
And it’s not that things aren’t good.
It’s not that.
Not at all.
The world seems almost dulled or muted as if nothing is so bright or say, when people laugh or when the time is great and the moment is really good; something seems removed, as if I am removed or maybe I am too far away to touch the fabric of something beautiful.
Depression makes living in the moment a challenge to say the least.
And you try.
You reach for all you can.
You reach with all you have.
You reach with everything in your heart and soul but no matter how hard you try to touch or feel or grasp the moment at hand, you always seem to come up short.
You can almost feel it.
You can almost touch it.
But you never seem to actually touch and feel the amazing contours and the swerves, the sways, and the beautiful things that are there and present
And to be clear, none of this is intentional.
No, this is all chemistry.
None of this means the people around you are bad or that your loved ones are unloved by you.
None of this means anything bad about those in your life.
This stems from within.
This is a chemical challenge in the body or in the mind and despite the want and the need and the drive and the desire to go, be, and do or to feel the grace of amazing things; you always seem to be removed.
You always miss.
Or, you always come up short.
And, if you do catch a bolt of lightning, you find yourself worrying about how long this will last.
How long with the joy be before the joy goes away and everything goes dark again?
Nothing lasts forever, right?
Everything is temporary, no?
And so . . .
I never believed in smiles or the satisfaction of a single moment because in my head, all would be gone at any moment and soon enough, I’d have to go back to the hole in the ground.
Or, I’d be sent back to the mental dungeon, which complicates and destroys my better thinking with presumptuous doubts and ideas that predict my future failures and heartbreaks above all.
And yes.
This is draining.
Yes, this kills me.
Yes, this leaves me exhausted.
And yes, I always say, “I just want to be happy!”
No one wants to sabotage their happiness.
No one asks for this.
At the same time, our expressions and our attitude and our actions and behaviors mirror a chemistry and a disbelief, and, so, we prepare for all to be lost.
We prepare for the fallout and wait for all else to go to Hell.
No one really believes me when I tell them I had to teach myself how to live.
No one believes me when I explain that I had to learn how to save my own life on a daily basis.
No one is coming to get me.
No one is looking to save me.
Either I sink or I drown or I swim and survive.
But by any means; whatever happens to me is up to me.
I know this.
I am still and always will be a dreamer.
I am still and perhaps I will always be doubtful and afraid.
I doubt the best things can happen and if (or when) they do, I’m afraid that nothing lasts and in the end, I will find myself as I was, alone and scared and hiding in the dark.
I don’t like the dark . . .
I do not like the idea of me, appearing like a little boy who underwent fears and pains that should have never happened.
And so –
Those walks . . .
The weight loss . . .
The energy and the release of my demons . . .
I miss those surrounding.
I miss what went on at the time.
I miss the people in my life who are gone now.
I miss all of this and more.
life changed . . .
. . . and so
all a man can do
is act accordingly
I have to learn how to transfer this.
I have to learn how to alleviate this energy and get rid of the excess weight that holds me back or keeps me down.
I do not have the idea that the absence of depression means that life comes without sadness. However, life without my kind of depression means a life without the constant worry about an eventual abandonment and perhaps an inevitable pain or heartbreak that appears like an impending doom.
These things are more like a phantom or a terrible figment of my imagination.
But all imaginary things are real -if we believe in them.
I have to kill the old me
I have to let the demons go
I have to wire music to my ears
I have to set the aggression free
I have to replace thoughts with a beneficial actions
NOW!
And . . .
I have to allow myself to heal with a realistic thought pattern.
I cannot follow the paths of my old terms and my old excuses.
I have to step forward.
More than anything; I have to mean it.
One of my favorite lessons when I was removing pipework at a jobsite as an engineer’s helper is when my Chief engineer told me to push harder on a pipe wrench.
He told me “if a man can put it in then a man can take it out!”
I allowed this to remove my personality from the project and focused on my effort.
I concentrated on my strength and ways to make the job move easier.
“You just gotta mean it,” he told me.
I agree,
I wish life was as easy as backing out a piece of old black pipe from a steam line.
I wish life was as easy as the tasks at work.
But no.
Life throws curve balls.
Life changes.
People change.
Mean things happen.
Bad things happen.
Heartache happens.
And people lie.
And so long as I see it this way, I remain too far and too distant from the plan which is to find and touch the actual fabric of this thing I call happiness
I have work to do today.
I have to remove some old pipework that sprung a leak.
I have to tie in a new water feed.
I have to troubleshoot a critical systems unit and then, I have to finish some of my training classes, which I hate.
I have to move forward no matter how pointless or worthless my fears tell me my efforts will be.
Depression robs us of our life.
It steals like a thief.
It lies like a con or a desperate junkie
It bleeds and blames like a fellow narcissist
It kills you like a weed kills a flower.
Therefore, I cannot die or go this way.
No.
I have to swing harder and step heavier and yes, above all things; I have to continue and drive and push myself until I scream because the screams I would cry if I quit and failed are far worse than the screams and my cries that come when I succeed and cross the finish line.
No pain.
No gain.
These words have a different meaning to me
and , as I’m sure –
They have a different meaning to you
Are you ready?
Good
because it’s time to go.
NOW!
The Written Addiction 