Through my 25 years of bartending, I came to understand what alcoholism really looks like. I saw it every night and it looked different on every person. What I came to know, to truly know and believe, is that alcoholism is not something that can be determined by filling out some government questionaire. It is an individual disease. What becomes a problem for one person does not effect the other person. I could serve one regular six doubles of Jack Daniels and feel fine with how they were. And I could pour their friend two Titos sodas and know that the wheels were soon to fall off. If we all went by the questionaire, we'd all be alcoholics. I'd be a raging alcoholic. But when I wake up the next day, I don't crave it. I don't have to have a drink to function. I don't need a drink to steady my hands. A friend of mine in Aspen had to have a six pack every morning in order to get his hands to stop shaking enough to even write his name. For the alcoholic, the drink is always there. In their mind. In their hand.
One more comparison. I started smoking when I was 13. My first pack of cigarettes cost $1.21. I bought it at Wentz's. I smoked for 35 years, give or take. I quit several times. A few times were for two years. Sometimes it was for six months or so. And after all that, there is one thing I know about smoking. One guarantee. You'll never quit smoking. The best you can do is to just NOT smoke a cigarette. And you have to just not smoke a cigarette every single day you wake up. That's because you're going to think about that cigarette for the rest of your life. As the years pass, those thoughts become more and more rare. But I guarantee you that there will be that random day, that beautiful spring day when you sit down at an outside table to enjoy a beer and you find yourself remembering how nice it was to smoke a cigarette with that beer on an awesome spring day and that sudden urge to smoke might just be too great and the next thing you know is you've got a cigarette in your mouth and man, is it ever amazing. That's how I started back every time. The random thought that catches me off guard. They will happen to you until the day you die.
Depression for me is a dark lake that I'm always walking beside. No matter where I am, no matter what I'm doing, I'm always walking beside this dark lake. What I have to do, what my life depends on, is not falling into this lake. I live my entire life in my head. It's always going at 200 mph. If I have a phone call to make, I have already had the converstation with that person to its entirety 100 times before I dial the number. I have already played both sides, said every word, every phrase, in every known scenario, countless times before the call is ever made. The same goes for conversations with people. It is very hard to live in one's head like this. My head is a deep, winding, chaotic, expansive, and often VERY dark place. To say I am hard on myself is an understatement. I'm not just a tough critic of myself. Not just a hard-ass coach trying to get the best out of his player. I am fucking mean to myself. I have no sympathy. I have no remorse. I dig into myself and won't quit. I'll beat myself until I'm down, and then I go to work. Pounding and pounding until there is no pulse. And because my mind never stops, never rests, the pounding never stops.
I've been on medication off and on throughout my adult life. The last time I was medicated, I hated my it. That was almost 20 years ago and it was the old school SRIs that made you so sick if you didn't religiously take them at the exact same time every single day. When I quit taking them, with the help of my doctor, I had to ween myself off over the course of six months. And for those six months, I was constantly sick and dizzy to the point that I would constantly have to catch myself from falling. It was miserable and I didn't want to ever go through it again. So I went back to medicating myself. And when it comes to self-medication, I'm a shitty, reckless doctor who doesn't heed warnings or safety. I was a malpractice lawsuit just waiting to happen. Do you know what a sinking, dreadul feeling it is to wake up in the morning not knowing how you got home and just praying that your car isn't in the driveway and then slowly walking to the window and seeing that it is there right where you left it when you drove home last night? Or waking up with a cracked, or at least a severly bruised rib, and not knowing how in the world you got it? Yeah, shitty self-medicator.
Five years ago, I was finally convinced to try medication again. And this time it works well. Granted, I have to take an agressively high dosage. But its getting the job done. I find that I'm always wanting to go dark. That's what I call it when I slip into a depression spiral. On a daily basis my ruthless brain tries to go dark. It wants to jump in the dark lake and sink. But I never do. The thought is addressed and sent on its way. When I tell myself that I am the worst father ever, I listen to my brain say it, and I move to the next thought. Off medication, I would take that thought and take it to the dark places. And I'd feel myself going darker and darker and darker. With the medication, I don't even respond. I don't react. It's there and then I let it pass. Like the urge for a cigarette always being there, my brain will never quit trying to beat me down. I know this. My mind will always think I'm a worthless piece of shit. I know I'm not. And with my medication, I go through my days just fine.
I don't want to give the impression that my mind thinks I'm a piece of shit 24/7. Like I said before, my brain is expansive and wandering and easily distracted. I am happy, or at least not dark and depressed, a lot of the time. Warm, sunny, beautiful days are great. Playing with my kids is great. Running my route while I'm listening to my playlists is great. Listening to Phish is great. It's not all doom and gloom. And I can't speak for everyone with depression, but for me it's not all doom and gloom. When I was off medication, I could go through stretches, some of them long stretches, where I'd be good. Riding high without a care in the world. But when that unexpected thing happened, BOOM, there's that dark lake sucking me under again.
The first time I can remember dealing with a suicide was one of my cousins on my father's side. I didn't know him well at all. This was a long time ago. All I really remember about it was how badly it hurt those around him. For the person that takes their life, that's it. The pain is over. Everything is over. They are gone. But what they leave behind is just beginning. I used to think suicide was the most selfish act in the world. It was selfish because it was the easy, quitters way out. They quit, they endeed it, and they left everyone else to play clean up. I don't feel like that anymore. I now understand that suicide is never what anyone wants. No one wants to kill themselves. But when someone goes dark, they no longer are thinking like they normally would. I really need those of you reading this who don't have depression to stop and understand what I just said. When you go dark, you don't think the way you do when things are good. You aren't the same person. When you go dark, when you go really dark, and you're brain has you on the ground and is raining blows on you, killing yourself doesn't seem like the quitters way out. When you're dark, you don't process action versus consequence the same way. Loved ones don't immediately pop into your mind. And I know that this is different for everyone. Alcoholism looks different on everyone. So does depression. I've thought about suicide during some of my really dark periods. I've never actually attempted it and I can't tell you why I didn't. Maybe luck. You know my stance on religion, so I'm not going to say the grace of god. But for whatever reason, an attempt was never made. But I can tell you with all confidence that when I go dark, I am not able to make the same decisions and process the same thoughts in a rational, healthy way.
Sleeping is my go to when I'm depressed. I can sleep all day. I have slept all day. Many times. When I go dark, I get into my bed, pull up the covers and fall into sleep. Several reasons for this. The most obvious is its a really good way to comfortably pass the time without doing anything. But a more subtle and maybe more important reason is that when I'm asleep, I don't have to listen to my brain. I get to push that little fucker into his own corner and let my wacky, incoherent, bizarre and completely crazy subconscious weave its unimaginably bizzare tales for me to watch and experience. It's a way for to get through darkness without having to take part in it. And for those of you who know me well, and know that I sleep a lot and at every chance I can get, lately its not because I'm dark. It's because Fedex is kicking my ass, and I'm not a young man anymore, and I'm just freaking tired when I get home from work.
So, that's about all I have to say about depression right now. For those of you who have it, I feel you. I know what you're going through. And I just ask you to somehow get through when you go dark. Just like alcohol and cigarettes, it's an individual thing. My advice might bounce right off you. And I know that. So I just ask that you get through it the best you can. Because, you know what, fuck your mind. Your mind is wrong. You're not a piece of shit. You're not worthless. You're a badass. You're a fucking trooper. And all of us are happy you're here. The world shines a little brighter with you in it. So do what you have to do and get through it. We need you! And for those of you that don't have it, maybe this was able to shine a little light on what it's like to have it. It's not like the dumbass pill commercials we see on TV. It's not pretty. It is often silent. Hidden. It is everywhere. It looks different from person to person, so you never know what to look for. But its there. And those of us fighting it are fighting for our lives. So be kind. Be kind to people. That literally takes no energy on your part. Give a smile. Give a compliment. Just be kind. You never know what a kind gesture can do for a person. It could make all the difference in the world.
Thanks for reading this one y'all. It was important that I write it...
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