The following and all of the other episodes to come are snapshots of what goes on in my head, now and in the past. There are times none of this will make sense. There will be times when I might get lucky and the blog I post will be well constructed and will flow like a mountain stream to an awaiting lake below. Other times it will seem like the ramblings of a madman and you’ll ask yourself, “What the……?”
You should probably get use to the latter.
EPISODE SEVENTY: Life Is A Book
Dedicated to Carole Ann…
Life is a book.
And what we put in that book is up to us. We choose our own title. We choose our own chapters. We mostly get to choose how many pages there are. We get to choose if it ends happy or sad.
We get to choose what we fill it with.
I’ll tell you about my book.
It started out with travel. My family moved from Fort Worth, Texas, where I was born, to Murfreesboro, Tennessee, where I grew up. I learned about my imagination, falling out of trees, the night sky, reading books and comic books, Star Wars, how high my dad could throw a ball, kick ball in the front yard with the neighborhood kids, discovering Indiana Jones, crushes on neighborhood girls, sneaking downstairs after my parents went to bed and watching HBO, not to piss off a swarm of bumble bees and many, many more things.
That might cover the first three chapters of my book.
Then comes the teenage years.
It starts with our house in the city and ends with our house in the country. I go from riding my bike or skateboard to the store to trying to get a ride into town until I got my first car. I discover the woods for the first time because we owned some and my new-found love of them. Then I discovered my first real girlfriend and the angst that came with it. I found out about love and I found out what it was like to be really depressed. I went through a time of wanting to end it all and then discovering I didn’t want to. I discovered life. Then there was my first job and my second. There was high school and meeting people who I still call friends.
That’s another few more chapters.
Then my twenties to my early thirties.
That felt like a blur. Moving out, moving back in. Moving out, moving back in. Moving out and, this time, staying out. I lived with two girls. One a friend and the other turned out to be more. We got married and had the most beautiful child. We drifted apart and divorced and still had the most beautiful child. Then I met somebody new after a couple of failed dating attempts and I fell so quickly, it scared me and I ended it. We rekindled after I came to my senses and she forgave me. During that time, I stayed at one job for over ten years and left. And glad to have done so.
I’d say that’s about four chapters.
My middle thirties to my forties.
New job. Three years. Gone. New job. Still there. About to rip my throat out to end the madness. I see my daughter grow and grow and become the most wonderful person. Still…the most beautiful child. But a child no more. I marry my wife and she married me. Happy. We take things in stride, from the good to the bad, to the great and the sad. She is there beside me and I’m there beside her. I have a step-son. I watch him grow from a boy to a man. I’ve seen him drive us crazy and I’ve seen him make us proud. And he’s trying. Life can be hard, sometimes due to things we can’t control and things we can. He’s trying. And he’s making it. Pets go and pets enter our lives like angels. Our house has love. It helps shield us from the darkness that surrounds us.
That is about 20 chapters. At least.
Welcome to my present.
I’m way overweight and I decide to get off my butt and exercise. Running became my exercise drug of choice. I lose a lot of weight and become the healthiest I have ever been. Then I allow stress and depression take over and here comes the food I had stopped eating, here comes the couch that I stopped being on so much, and here comes the sadness which cause more bad food and more couch residency. It has become a horrible circle. I have seen my daughter go from middle school to high school and become so smart. Dare I say, she has become a bit like me, though she’s pretty like her mom but she has got my need to learn and my silly sense of humor. I’m proud of her. My wife is still my best friend and my partner in all things. She listens to me and lets me cry when I need to and she takes care of me. I hope I do the same for her. I have a close net of friends that I get to see from time to time. We get together and talk and record it and share it with the world in the form of a podcast. I enjoy it even if some of the episodes aren’t that great. I’m starting to see a light at the end of the tunnel when it comes to hating my work. I believe something is on the horizon that might be a life changer. I’m hoping so, anyway.
And so ends this particular chapter. It’s still a continuing story. Everyday adds a line or two. Maybe even a paragraph. And I hope there are many more pages and chapters to go.
And it’s just not me that has a book. We all do. Everything you do adds to your own book. And everything you do gets written down it.
The good and the bad. And you can’t go back and edit anything out of it. You can only start a new page everyday and make it better than it was before.
And it’s all important. Every letter, sentence, page, and chapter. It all makes you YOU.
Make it a good one. Make it a story people will want to read.
June 2nd, 2018
I’ve decided to keep a blog about how I’m dealing with depression. I’m going to consider this a form of therapy. It might not help anybody else but it might help me.