For many people, it’s hard to distinguish depression from sadness. Some would say that depression is just stemmed from being on hard times. And in many cases, that is a legitimate stigma to regard as a good assumption. But what pisses me off about that, is that that’s all it is. An assumption. I walk around feeling misunderstood all the time. And that irritates the ever-loving fuck out of me. But that irritation is internalized. I live day to day wishing I could articulate what I mean as precise as I can possibly make it. And as a result, I overcompensate. My tone and infliction comes across as sharp. And for many people I have wanted to keep in my life, that alone has pushed them away. And for the longest time, THAT… the way I come across and the way they shut me out… it perpetuates my state of being. But no matter how I try to fix my relationships, the damage is done and often times, all I’m left with is my journey in life. From job to job, relationship to relationship… state to state. This brings my self confidence level way down. This has kept me from keeping to my goals, my hopes, my dreams. This has kept me from obtaining happiness.
I’ve tried drugs to escape it. Alcohol to cope. Cigarettes to help me meditate on it, just to catch a break from myself. Coffee to make life tolerable and so I stay out of my recliner that I sleep in because my bed is not my own. My partner is not mine. Even in what I call home, I am not at home. And I do it to myself.
With 5 children, all of whom I may not see grow up and be successful and share tons of memories with. As my 3 oldest I barely even know. And as for my 3rd child, I don’t even know him at all. All because I have this affliction that eats at me. And it has for as long as I can remember.
I grew up poor. I slept on the couch for the majority of my childhood. If I had a bed before I was 15, for whatever reason I blocked it out, I don’t remember it. I moved around a lot as a child. Drifting from one school to the next. I hardly knew my dad from all the overtime he worked and my mom would only talk about her. She wouldn’t listen. Often times when I thought she was listening to me, I hear a different story from someone else she had talked to about our conversation. And…I am not blaming anyone. That is just what happened that I can remember.
A lot of my relationships ended as a teenager with friends because of her. She irritated the ever loving fuck out of me with her paranoid schizophrenic cyclothemia. And by the time I was shipping off to the Coast Guard, my mother physically attacked my now ex wife and I got right in the middle of it trying to defend my wife. And as a result from blocking the swings my mother threw, I bloodied her nose. I did not mean to do that. But that’s what happened. From there… my relationships with everyone I ever cared about started going down the drain. And I isolated myself and my ex wife to the state of Maine… all for new hurdles. Hurdles that seemed like me getting my life back on track. But it wasn’t. There was never a track to begin with. It was just turn and point and do what looked good. No roots. No close friends to guide me. If they tried, I didn’t listen. I became self-destructive. Until I thought about getting myself out of a rut. And by then, my baggage from place to place ate at me. My subconscious mind still had a problem I could not let go of. But no solution would ever be obtained. I just had to live with it and distract myself. But again, you have no clue what your subconscious mind is doing (almost never, will you ever know). I know I would wake up in night sweats. I would talk in my sleep. I have even woke up as a teenager in a neighbor’s house asking where my mom was. I walked across the street in my sleep at the age of 13 or 14 in the pouring rain from the couch of my living room, late at night with my parents, in the front room kitchen in a single wide trailer; and back after I woken up. I was still wearing jeans. I was bare footed. My pants were soaking wet and I remember a police officer checking to see if I was that boy my neighbors were concerned about. I remember pretending to be asleep when he asked to see my feet. My mom showed him, and when she pulled back the blanket off my feet I could hear her in shock that she did not even notice that I walked right out the front door. And still I pretended to be asleep. And I just laid there all night wondering why I would do that. It freaked me out, too. And after moving away, being married with a child… I didn’t realize the burden I put on my new family. I was focused on my job. But still perplexed about bloodying my mother’s nose. There was no forgiveness for me for a very long time to come.
I did not understand depression. I thought depression was just a synonym for sadness. My wife at the time was dealing with postpartum of her own. I didn’t understand that either. But it turns out, in my own new functionality in life, I was making her depression worse. I won’t mention too much about this…to my readers, just know that I isolated her and we later got divorced that caused much more hardship for myself.
But before the divorce was even in the works we had another child. But we were in the process of separating before and after he was conceived. And while we were separating I made a horrible and unforgivable decision to see someone else, make a pornographic movie with a stranger and then I tried to build a relationship with my sex partner in the pornographic scene.
It was just lies after lies after lies I kept telling everyone. Trying to conceal just how fucked up I was. And another son was conceived. And for about a year, I got to hold him as much as I could. But when the lies started to reveal themselves, my chances to be the father that boy deserved was gone. To this day, I cower in my own making to try and set things right. The only thing I can do, is just see him through my screen of my phone as if that is the only connection I am permitted to. I deal with that shame every day.
For my two oldest, I try to see them when I can, as for when my talents and skills be utilized to make money, or through my humbled gratitude of my current situation allows. I have many thanks to one particular person in my life, and that person will never know how grateful I am.
As for being a veteran, I am thankful for the VA. They have been helping me deal with my mental health and allowed me to see myself as a spectator of my life.
The things that bring me joy aside from my children are aquariums and fish, writing music, dogs, being able to see new places and playing random open mics and writing.
With two college degrees, military experience, and my personal experience; I have decided to pursue a career in music and my own business. After having many failed relationships and having 71 jobs in 5 different career fields and having lived in 5 states, I have realized my strengths and weaknesses. I am still struggling with that. And in my capacity, I don’t believe that I am good enough for anyone else’s standards. I am still doing music, although, It’s been a while since I have recorded anything. I’m still working on my business plan, but now, I believe I have… something. All I am asking for is support in it. I will produce in my craft, as long as I have that. And again, to those that have supported me on my path, even if it was just a little- to me… it means a lot. And to my readers, thank you for believing in me.