Dancing In The Dark

 "I get up in the evenin'
And I ain't got nothin' to say
I come home in the mornin'
I go to bed feelin' the same way"

-Bruce Springsteen

I have a relationship with depression. It's not a terribly productive relationship, but we don't always get to choose these things, I suppose. I couldn't tell you when it started for me, or the mechanisms that make it do what it does, or when it does the things that it does, but I can tell you that I've spent a lot of time trying to balance my own perspective on what it is, what it means for me and my life, and where that line intersects between control and the illusion of control. 

And I've never been much of a diary/journal guy. The level of vigilance and commitment that it takes to do that has always eluded me (this is a recurring theme of mine) but for reasons that I'll get into here, it's time for me to give it a try.

So I'm taking this time and this space to see if I can parse some of these things out for myself. The things that make me happy, the things that send me down my occasional dark spirals, and the space between the two. If this ends up being a helpful or useful thing for you as a reader, well that's great, but the motivation behind this blog is first and foremost my own need to do some work on myself. 

But first, a little bit of first-person context:

I'm a middle aged white guy. I'm coming to grips with the idea that I'm somewhere in that mysterious tier called "upper middle class," but I wasn't raised that way. I'm happily married. I have two kids. And I have a stable career that I will likely ride into the sunset some day on a well-earned pension that will help me live comfortably for the rest of my life. And yet despite all of this, in my mind I'm useless, ugly, unskilled, unlikable, and all of the other "un" words you can think of that are synonymous with a general lack of worth. 

And that, as they say, is the rub. I'm often quick to point out my privilege, and the "outside looking in" acknowledgement that from all outward appearances, I'm living a charmed life. And yet, for whatever reason, I can't help but find the grey lining that's hiding behind all of those blue skies. (This is not to say that I'm necessarily pessimistic. I'd actually argue that I'm quite the opposite. I just see and expect the worst in myself is all.)

"I check my look in the mirror
Wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face"

The other day I was making dinner for my family and I went to the refrigerator to get some minced garlic and that one simple, small action triggered something in my me. It was like my inner monologue opened a window so that my own negative self talk could lean out into the alley and yell to me and to anyone else in earshot "You're gonna screw this up! Nobody wants garlic in their goddamn food. You'll probably use too much anyway. WHY DO YOU EVEN BOTHER TRYING."

It was paralyzing, and this was just me trying to cook with seasoning. Imagine what this grey spiral looks like when I'm considering actually important stuff.

I recently came across this quote from Bruce Springsteen from "Born To Run" (the book - not the song)

"Every meaningless thing became the subject of a world-shattering existential crisis filling me with an awful profound foreboding and sadness. All was lost. All... everything... the future was grim... and the only thing that would lift the burden was one-hundred-plus on two wheels or other distressing things. I would be reckless with myself."

At this point in my life, Bruce Springsteen has become my North Star. A guy that has everything I could ever hope to want, and yet he stumbles through the dark sometimes when depression has turned out the lights, just like me. Blessedly, he wears it on his sleeve, and he openly shares his victories and his losses in this lifelong battle he's fought against this dark weight of whatever the fuck it is, and it's my intention to make that a part of my story too.

I don't want this first entry to turn into a book, so I'll find a way to close here, but there will be plenty of things for me to turn over in my mind and try to flesh out here in later days. You can trust that I'm not anticipating any kind of shortage of material or writing prompts. I'm looking into tweaking my medications. I'm starting up with a new therapist. My long-running list of things that help me step out of the funk. Oh, and I'm stepping slowly back into the sun with the rest of us here on this hemisphere as Spring starts to turn the corner and welcome us all back into the light. I'll talk about all of this stuff later at some point in time. 

Oh, and after forty years of waiting, I get to go see Bruce later this week. I'm gonna sing. I'm gonna yell. I'm gonna cry my goddamn eyes out. And I'm gonna pretend that he's singing every word just to me, and it's gonna feel so good.

Be good to yourself. Just for a minute. 

WD