Going to try something a little different tonight. Usually when I write, There is something really pushes me to sit down and put something together, usually, I know its going to be one of those creative-therapeutic word-nights by the afternoon, and I generally put something together later in the evening. Meanwhile, amidst this process, I light some candles, and turn on whatever Matt Good CD is of choice for the night, and I sit there, sometimes I pop a light beer, and I see what I can come up with. There really is no science too it; if you’re wondering. However, tonight, there was really nothing poking me to get up and write something, and I decided to put in something different than a MG CD. My mom was kind enough to give me my sister’s CD book, which is one of my greatest treasures. I know its something that meant a lot to her. Music has always been a really big thing with our family, especially the 3 of us. But, I thought, hell, lets just grab a random blank CD out of here and listen to one of her burnt CDs. It was really cool when I put it in, and the first song played. Not really expecting much, it really just resonated with me. I could feel Jen; this was her music, a CD that SHE put together… It was almost like it was her on the burnt CD. It was… one of those weird, yet good moments that I have with her. There are times where I just know she is with me. Whether, I am in trouble somewhere, or can’t figure something out, and all of the sudden, things just click… And, it’s so weird, but you just know. You can feel it.
A few times in the past, In just going through my day, I will hear someone say something nearby, and I swear its her voice. There are times where it’s actually quite eerie. These things, I never ever forget… It’s probably happened 4 or 5 times in the 4 years where I know I have heard her voice, and I remember every single time like it was yesterday, cause I know it was her just saying, What’s up kid.
When these eerie moments happen, like when I put on this burnt CD… It’s weird; It’s a bittersweet thing. Its immediately devastating… but, then I always find my mind and my body just kind of stop, and I soak it in… and it leaves you with on those can’t-stop-grins. Though, these oddities are rare, I do certainly relish every one of them. Same thing when I dream about her… I don’t often, but I can remember every single dream. Every one. And, in every one of them, I can see Jen. Perfectly. She looks the same as I remember – beautiful. And, she is always smiling – always. I know this is her telling me she’s okay now. She’s good. And we don’t have to be sad anymore. Though, we try. It’s hard. And I think that this is why she doesn’t do this to me often, cause she knows how difficult it is sometimes.
But, every night I do dream about her. I have the best day. I wake up with the biggest smile, cause I know that in the only way possible, I just hung out with my big sister again. Which, is something I miss more than you can imagine. Seriously. Like I said, it’s really one of those weird things, I can’t explain it. I am a million times happy, and sad at the same time. There will be nights too, where I can’t sleep so I just talk to her, and ask her to come into my dreams, so I can see her again… Sometimes it happens, sometimes not. But, I will lay there and think about her as much as I can and hope that she comes. I miss her. A lot.
I know that this was supposed to get easier with time, and sometimes I think that it has, but there will be nights where something reminds me of Jen, a song, a picture… whatever, and I just miss her more than I would maybe, any other night. Or sometimes, maybe even nothing ever happened but there are just nights where you can hear her, see her, feel her… And, you just really miss her. Tough nights. Sometimes when I am going through one of those evenings… I wonder, when I am 35 years old, is this still going to happen, or is it going to occur less… How does this work?
Sometimes I wish there was a real owners guide to overcoming a loss like this. I guess there a million books, but they all the same, and I can read as many of them as I want, and while I will agree with most, or some of the excerpts… It never truly heals anything. I don’t even know if it is supposed too. I just know, I really miss her…a lot. And, that empty feeling in my gut that I have from missing her so much, maybe that will never go away and I will always feel that. I don’t know. I just hope the dreams, and the moments I can feel her, never go away, because at least now… I feel like I still have something. Sometimes.
I do wish that my writings would be more frequent, as opposed to writing once every couple of weeks. I would like to make this a much more consistent effort. I am finally getting back in touch with, what is probably the most effective means of therapy for myself. I used to write a tonne when I was younger, but I kind of lost it over the years. I don’t know, I guess it wasn’t cool to “write”… Is it now?
I just am really happy that I have gotten back in touch with writing; I think it has probably saved me many a night. When you struggle with mental illness, you need to find a few things that you can resort too when you are having a shit day. A day where you just feel like, you’re really just losing the fucking battle, and nothing is going right. You have to try your best to just have what I call – defense weapons. (I like to use fighting metaphors…Sooooooo) to get you through the days where you really, literally only want to get through the day, sometimes when you fight a mental illness, going to sleep and waking up to a new day is sometimes a victory. It really is. Because, there are times where it is that damn bad. And, you can’t leave your house, that is, if you can even get out of bed. For me, I have a couple of things that I resort too… Obviously this blog has really become that for me, along with pretty well anything hockey. Those are my escapes. But, even then, sometimes your days are so shitty, that you can’t even make it to these escapes… These are the days where you just hope to hell to see another sun rise, and make it. You’ll have these days too, I do. I think once you accept that you suffer from a mental illness – that being the initial, biggest success – but from then on in, its about limiting those days where a victory is just making it through. Maybe you’ll never truly eliminate those days, cause who knows. Sometimes I feel like it’s an endless fight, but, when you can limit those days as much as possible… you’re hanging in there. Trust me. And, at times… hanging in there… that’s ok.
goneawayboys has served me well in a variety of ways. First and foremost, it has been completely therapeutic for me, and is something that truly makes me feel quite good. Every time I click submit and I watch people view my posts, and comment, follow, like or whatever other term social media has coined as “approval”. It is an awesome, awesome feeling. And dammit, do I thank everyone of you that do that. You seriously have no idea how much that means too me, It gives me one of those can’t-stop-grins.
As much as I like to write this blog to hopefully help others, and I hope that I am. It is ultimately too, like I said; get me through those days where I am losing the fucking battle. Big time. I think this blog has too become somewhat of a personal compromise.
Any one that is fortunate, and blessed enough to know me on a personal level 😉 knows that I am a pretty quiet fellow, I don’t say much, especially in regards to my feelings, my personal life and past. I don’t even like the word feelings. I don’t talk about much of anything – ever. But, I think that this has ultimately led to me absolutely falling apart, or at least it was a significant contribution. For 10 years, I have been fighting depression, and I haven’t said boo about it. I’d take my pills that the doctor prescribed me. And, that’s it. I’d take them, I didn’t know why I would be taking them, and I don’t even think they worked. It was a robotic process. Meanwhile, I would take these pills and carry on my day like nothing, like an absolute robot again. I’d never talk about anything. Even if I was feeling completely fucked up. I wouldn’t say a word to anyone. We weren’t supposed too, I thought. Isn’t that the thing about mental illness? Hush Hush – pussy. So, I never did. I continued to throw everything back into a mental clusterfuck… and deep down, I think I knew that this was a bad idea, and eventually would probably boil over and explode, and in turn something bad was likely going to happen. I didn’t know what. But, it hadn’t happened then, so as far I was concerned… It wasn’t going too. Or, at the least, I would cross that bridge when I arrived. As if I was expecting that I’d have time, and I’d see a collapse coming. Well, maybe I did see it coming… But, I know what I told myself…. I’ll be fine. Fuck off. We’re ok.
Well, it was damn close, and I wasn’t okay. That was one of the hardest things, having to admit… I was not OK anymore. At all.
I am not sure if I should be impressed that my way of dealing with things lasted 10 years, or if I should consider myself damn lucky that I had someone kick me in the teeth and allow me to get my shit together when I hit rock bottom after 10 years, before it was too late… ultimately, allowing me to even tell you about this. Thanks Jen. Everyone was right. The more shit you keep in, and refuse to talk about… You’re going to fall apart. And, I did just that. And, no. You’re wrong. You don’t see it coming, and trust me… You won’t.
Although, I will admit I still am a little hesitant to openly discuss my fight with depression, for now, even though I am an advocate for speaking out about it… It’s hard. It’s not something that happens over night, but I do think I am certainly getting better at talking about it personally. But, this blog, is a place where I can write these things down, then show everyone, and tell everyone. Although its not the setting of a coffee-shop conversation. To me, it’s a personal compromise and a stepping-stone to achieving my ultimate goal of being able to freely have a coffee shop conversation about my depression, and your’s too.
One day we’ll get there, and when we do… I’ll have a Caramel Macchiato.
I can’t write love songs when I’m on these things
I’m affable, responsible, but hard to be around
It’s correctible and they’re right you know
It’s as easy as it sounds
It’s all as easy as it sounds
– A Single Explosion –