I’ve been struggling with depression for my entire life.  It got a lot worse in 2015 when my maternal grandfather died.  Death is something I’ve never been able to handle well and in the 3 years since then we also lost my Great Aunt Patsy and 2 family friends (Steve and Tinsel) – every time I started coming out of the swamp something seemed to kick me back into it head first.  In this time I learned that my paternal grandmother has been having strokes and basically lost the ability to speak coherently.  My Dad got a divorce and is broke, living with his mother and sister – he also lost the land which had been handed down through my family for generations.  My Mother quit her job and is depending on her mother for housing and living expenses.  During this time we had 2 kids, bought a house and my wife convinced me that her business was failing due to some nonsensical laws passed by Washington state.  I broke, mentally and spiritually.  If I’d just been depressed maybe I could’ve held it together but I also developed anhedonia, the inability to experience pleasure.  I don’t think anyone who hasn’t suffered from that can understand it – I went to multiple doctors and they put me on mood stabilizers, which in retrospect I can recognize was pure fucking insanity (I was flat and down so they gave me something to make me flat.)  During the end of my wife’s pregnancy and the beginning of my daughter’s life my two goals were to earn money, thinking it would make Anna happy, and avoid committing suicide.  I slept a lot.  I yelled a lot.  I was mean.  I drove people away.  I scared people.  I felt angry all the time.  I couldn’t look in the mirror, I couldn’t look at photographs, I hated the world and I hated myself.  I was convinced my newborn daughter hated me because every time I held her she cried.  I was scared to be alone with my kids because I was angry literally all of the time.  I scarred my wife emotionally, snapping at her about bullshit like silverware.  I slept so much I made myself ill, waking up and saying things that I can no longer even remember.  I usually had a severe headache from a shitty diet and lack of hydration.

I started to come out of it in September.  I just spent 2.5 weeks in a partial hospitalization program.  I’m on Wellbutrin, in therapy and trying my hardest to get our lives back on track.  I accept, for the first time, that I’ll never be cured – I will always need medication and therapy.  I’m struggling.  I feel so much guilt and sadness for putting the 3 people I love the most through this.  I feel so much hope for the future.  The only thing that makes me angry right now is the thought of abandoning the people I love – our marriage counselor thinks we should get a divorce (FUCK THAT.)

I have no idea how to get anyone to distinguish between the illness that I’m still fighting and the guy who is fighting it.  This is the best I’ve felt in years and it’s also the worst I’ve felt in years.  My days are disheartening but I am not going to give up.  I stayed alive for Anna and Bert and Corina and I’m going to fight to get our future back on track.  In Elementary School I got a Franklin F for “Most Improved” – my current situation is the greatest opportunity I’ve ever had to earn that little piece of felt.

“””Never, never, never give up.” – Winston Churchill” – Donald Trump” – Emory Myers

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