Wednesday, April 9, 2014


(EDITOR'S NOTE: I burn up my quota of swear words for the next few months in this one.)


That’s how I feel right now. Like some fucking spoiled brat, throwing a tantrum. A very foul-mouthed brat. Why? Because I get depressed sometimes, that’s why? And I hate it.

I mentioned it before, but some of you may not know/remember. I was in banking about four years ago. I was a loans officer and, mostly and I fucking hated it. Then I lost that job – mostly because of my own screw-ups – and had been bouncing around from one place to another, never able to hold down a job for more than six months. The economy was in a slump, banks weren't hiring and it took months to finally find a temporary clerical gig in a small office that paid less than half the income I was making before. That’s how the next three years would go for me. Brief stints of employment here and there, followed my months of unemployment.

As a result of this – maybe even before it (HELL! I don’t know!) – I realized I would go into these “funks” from time-to-time. The worst of it was right after I lost my job at the bank. Back then it was full-on, curl-in-the-fetal-position-under-the-covers-day-after-day depression.

Should I keep calling it that? I've never been officially diagnosed. "Real" therapy's expensive, you know. All I know is it was like a hole had opened up inside me. I felt like something was missing. Like there were things that should be there that just weren't. I remembered, even before things ended with the bank, I questioned whether the road I was on was really the one I should be taking.

As time went on I learned to deal. Or, at least, to look like I was dealing.
Eventually, I started blogging and that seemed to help a lot.

But that hole never went away. When problems started to pile up, there it was, shrouding me and swallowing me up again. True, it wasn't as bad as before. I’d lose interest in things and stop being productive to the point where every task felt burdensome. I literally have to force myself to “function”.

But things are different now. Right? I mean I've been employed since last February. First, with TinyCo – the company that seemed destined to fold at any minute but didn't – and now with the government. My income now isn't anywhere close to what I made in banking but it’s the best it’s been in years. There’s just no reason those old feelings of emptiness to be bother me anymore.

So where the hell did the last week of my life go?

That’s what I fucking hate the most about my “thing”. It’s a creeper. It's a bitch-assed, sneaky kind of gloominess and I never know when it's going to hit or even that I’m going through it. That is, until it comes to a head (or the shit hits the fan). I go into force-function mode and my sporadic bursts of energy during that time allow me to make it through each day with just enough effort to even fool myself and keep drifting along.

I don't know how I got to this state. Sure, life isn't perfect now that my job worries have eased up. I've still been taking a hit or two as a result of our finances going into disarray when I was unemployed. But... Shit, I don’t know!

I know what some of you are thinking. I should talk to someone. I think that's part of the problem. Aside from my wife, there aren't that many people I can talk to. I love her, but there are some things I'm not comfortable talking to her about. Let's not even get into family. I'm a Christian (maybe not the best example of one, but I am), as I may have mentioned and most of my family are as well. But if I have to deal with the cookie-cutter "Go deeper into prayer" answers, I may end up saying some very un-Christian things to them (Don't believe I can? Go back and read some of what I wrote in this post alone.)

The fog is lifting for now, though. I'm just really, REALLY pissed it happened again. Sorry to just spring this on you all. I just needed to vent and since I can't afford therapy and I'm too much of a loner to have "real life" friends to bitch to, the blog is the only place I can pour all this out.

I'l try to be funny next time.



  1. Bud, the thing I'm using to get through the rough spots is a rather cross-purposes verse: Creation has been subjected to futility. (Romans 8). I use this verse to remind me that when things go bad, it's not all my fault- things are going to go bad. I've found removing myself from the equation of disaster helps.

    Depression is a funny thing, and I doubt it works the same for most of us. For me, it is a cloud looking for something to form around. I have to reject it before I give it a "reason" for being there. If I let it attach to something, I'm screwed.

    I tried St John's Wort a few years back. It helps, in a way- it flatlines your emotions all together (at least for me.) Plus it makes your sweat, piss, and breath all smell like SJW.

  2. I suffer from depression as well to the point where I was medicated for it. The medication didn't take so I've been forced to try and figure out a way to deal with it on my own. It has helped to rationalize it. I know when it hits that it's not real, it's my brain messing with me and I don't have to listen to my brain. Exercise also helps. But everyone is different. I wish you luck, sir.

  3. Just my opinion...Mental health is like any aspect of our health. It has to be a priority. And there is no need whatsoever to be apologetic about it (albeit difficult for us men). You can say fuck all you want and that can help but talking to a professional (be that a medical doctor or therapist) is much more helpful. Believe me. I talked to a psychologist twice. She patiently listened while I unloaded everything and then she gave me a task. I returned and she explained the task and thus taught me a strategy that I have used several times since. It helps. It really does. I haven't seen her since because I haven't needed to but I'm really glad I went. And I would totally go again.

  4. Thanks for the advice, guys. I guess I was just a little frustrated because I deluded myself into thinking those old feelings were a thing of the past & I wouldn't actually have to deal with it. I meant it when I said I was feeling better now, though.

  5. Actually, if your pastor tries to send you deeper into prayers, he's a fucking asshole. That's a classic description of clinical depression. Your pastor should - if a competent individual - give you emotional support and contact with an affordable psychologist/psychiatrist. (If he or she says 'deeper' or 'pray about it' in lieu of this, offer to throw the bible at him or her. Be sure it's open to the "lord helps those who help themselves" page. Seriously. If you have a supportive church/pastor, that can be a huge help at a time like this, and if you're getting this advice from a fucking agnostic who waits for the gut tearing lightning every time she crosses a religious threshold, then it MUST BE TRUE. (Even though it doesn't rhyme. Haha. Lego movie. Dumbass random reference at the end of an otherwise thoughtful reply.)

  6. Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry. It's the worst. Your picture of the fake happy guy standing, with you sitting in his shadow is so poignant.

    The thing with depression is, it's often not situational. It can be solely chemical and you might need medication. I have no idea what your health care/health insurance situation is, but if you can, you might want to consider a visit to the doctor if it starts going downhill again.

    And if you do talk to someone, it would ideally not be your spouse or family member, but someone who can be more objective. And definitely not someone who will give you tidy answers about praying it away. It's not generally that simple!

    I wish I could hug you. A virtual one will have to do!


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