I’ve never been so out of the christmas spirit as I have been this year. Even less friends around, still no girlfriend, and to make things worse, one of the friends who moved away came back to visit and, while intoxicated, he asked what had happened between between me and her.
And I told him the truth. That she was clinically depressed and refused to talk to anyone about it, even if I took care of the costs because while money can’t buy happiness, overcoming depression isn’t always cheap. That one of the primary external factors that was getting her down was her job and that I’d secretly saved up enough money from work for her to go back to school like she’d wanted to if she could afford it. And that just before I could tell her all this, she dumped me so she could focus more time pursuing her dream job.
I mean, I know that’s an excuse, that she had lost interest or that I now represented an external source and it was the most painless thing that was true that came to mind. When he asked why I never told her this I also told him that I had and that I’d never really heard from her since.
I don’t know if I’d ever wanted to more than today. I’d been invited to my brother’s place for dinner and spent the day with him, his wife, and his wife’s family. While I tried to keep up with conversation the only thing I could think about was thinking of a way to relate to these strangers without revealing that my only real hobby was being severely depressed. That while the medication was working in some ways, such as helping me concentrate, that it might be making me more emotional. That I needed to contact a doctor and possibly get an MRI of my ankle. That I was relatively devoid of any physical activity until then and even though I’d considered riding my bike, the dizziness was still strong enough it made me concerned about keeping my balance. That much of this may have stemmed from a kitchen fire a year ago and I haven’t felt quite the same since.
In the back of my mind there was this feeling that had been there before but with a purpose, that “if I could just make it through this.” But then of course I remembered there really was nothing I was looking forward to and certainly no external sign of real relief on the horizon.
Afterwards I picked up some things that had been left at my parents and headed back to my place. Once back to the empty home I looked in the fridge, came to the conclusion that few things do as poor a job to uplift someone’s spirits as a depressant, and elected to partake in some tap water. I guess it helps to think of myself as sick and the stuff in those cans and bottles are only making me sicker.
I bought an inflatable kayak and will visit the buddy I’d mentioned earlier down at his place in Florida next month. I can only hope the thing works because online purchases always strike me as somewhat impossible to return. But at least until then, until I get it unpacked from the box and realize there’s no way I can get it in even checked luggage or that I do get it down there and something happens like it rips in half, at least it’s something artificial to look forward to as that source of relief on the horizon.