depression, emotions, Motivation


I have a confession to make. I was 16 years old when I tried to commit suicide for the first time. It wasn’t about being gay, it was about belonging. Most of you won’t get this since you haven’t worked with old school phones, but sometimes when you hang those up, they don’t fully hang up. And you can still hear what the people on the other side are talking about. The old school landlines were like a portal. You had to actively and definitively cut the connection or it would stay open.

I have never repeated this story. I don’t think anyone knows about this. My best friend in high school went to visit another close friend of his. We talked on the phone at some point, but when he hung up the phone, the connection wasn’t severed. As I held the receiver to my phone, I heard them talking about how annoying it was to be friends with me. How clingy I am. And it kept going.

An hour later I took 200 Tylenol pills. I was done. I was ready to try something different. I didn’t want to be a burden or an embarrassment.

That was the first time that I tried to end my life, but it wasn’t the last. Depression is sneaky and angry and constant. No one likes me. Everyone is laughing at me. Those people over there are talking about me. I’m too poor to have pants that fit correctly. My hair is stupid. I’m awkward. Am I one of those homosexuals?

Depression lies.

Depression lies.

Depression lies.

I never recovered from that phone call. It just got worse. And worse. I fumbled with recovery. I forced myself into people’s lives to show them that I was fun, I was a good guy. I wasn’t a bad person. I pushed to be accepted with people that just didn’t want to take me on.

That was the beginning of my suicide attempts, but it wasn’t the end. It was also the beginning of my struggle to figure out who I was and what I wanted to be. It took several attempts and an act of love to break me out of that cycle.

I have a confession to make. I have never told anyone this story. My heart breaks for the 16 year old me laying in the grass, throwing up as the Tylenol made it’s way through my system. I have never told anyone that my best friend came home and kicked me out of his life because of my failure and struggle. I learned early on that people are incapable of understanding the effects of depression.

I have a confession to make. I suffer from major depressive disorder. I am not normal. I am not fine. But I am okay. And I am thriving.

depression, emotions, Motivation, Song Lyrics


I have a confession to make. I have major depressive disorder. Just kidding. I mean, I do, but you should know that by now. My last post was a bit frightening. I try to keep my posts PG-13, but sometimes I need people to understand the R rated version of my illness. Last night was one of those times.

When I see a celebrity or famous person having major struggles with depression, it makes me lose hope. These people literally have thousands or millions of people that would drop everything to help them and yet, they aren’t necessarily in a better place than me. When this happens, I typically get triggered. But it also makes me think, will honest conversations about depression and suicidal thoughts alienate us?

Celebrity suicides and mental health struggles are a frightener for me. It always makes me question myself and my hope.

With that said, I’m going to leave you with a chuckle. I always thought Chris Isaak was singing “No I, don’t want to fall in love, with you”. I could not have been more wrong.

emotions, Motivation


One of the most amazing things about my husband is that he gets caught up and rides the wave of my fantastical thoughts and dreams. I don’t think he believes them any more than I do, but he doesn’t question them. I talk about my newest fantastical dream and he goes along. Like, it could happen.

I talk about moving to a small town to be in the Gilmore Girls world. I talk about moving to Spain to be among the beautiful men. I talk about buying property in Oakland. I talk about so many things. And the love of my life… he just goes along with it. We both know these won’t happen, but he never bursts my bubble. He encourages this.

My newest and most fabulous one? I am going to buy a house in Guerneville while finding a fully 100% telecommuting position. I can be there five to six days a week. We can swap between our apartment and there. I can walk down main street holding his hand without fear. I can be. I can live. So much life with so little outside interference.

I love me more and more as the days go on. My dreams get bigger and better. But one day, these won’t be dreams anymore. They will be. We will be.

depression, Motivation, Sleep


When I go on vacation, my depression goes with me. I don’t have the option to leave it at home. But there is something about being on vacation that helps to reduce the effects of my depression. Maybe it is because I am doing so much or walking more or just spending so much time outdoors.

If you like to schedule your vacation with a hard list of things to do and times to do them, you won’t like me as a companion. I want to do all the things and I want to see all the things. I want to eat all the things. But remember, my depression is with me. I don’t get to decide everything.

I love travelling with people and I love vacations. Please invite me with you. But please understand that my limitations don’t end just because I’m on vacation.

anxiety, depression, Motivation


Sometimes I hate people that don’t suffer from depression or anxiety. These illnesses cause so many issues, but those issues are invisible.

Do you actually think that I want to lay around all day? Well, I don’t. I want to get up and do the laundry, the dishes, the cleaning. I want to get up and make my home look beautiful. But that’s not in the cards for me.

I want to build my bath and body products. Even if I only give them as gifts. I want to go out for walks or go bicycling. Most days, though, that’s not in the cards.

So that makes me lazy, uninvolved, or sloppy. I get it. Sorry for the rant but my brain has been yelling at me about this for a bit and I need to get it out.

depression, Motivation, Sleep


Daylight Saving Time is here yet again. The week of the time change is hard on me mentally. My depression loves the two weeks that we do this.

I am not sure if it’s the lack of sleep on the one night or just the change in general. I struggle to get out of bed. I struggle to make it through my days. I struggle.

Every year, I reach out to my Senators in the Spring and Autumn about this. Every year I am ignored. Until this year. We actually have a chance to stop the time changes. The Senate, which is deeply divided on everything, passed the resolution to switch to DST next Spring and then stay there.

There is hope in every situation. Sometimes it’s hard to see after so many failures, but keep looking.

anxiety, depression, emotions, Motivation


I hate feeling dumb or stupid. I work hard to keep my brain sharp and to look for ways to increase my knowledge on subjects.

I didn’t go to college when I finished high school. My anxiety could not handle the move to a place where no one would know me. My depression could not deal with going into a classroom consistently from week to week while also working full time.

Not going to college has always left me with a tiny feeling of dumbness in the back of my head. In the darkest corners.

With my new job that I started in 2020, I have the opportunity to go to school. It’s completely online. The costs are covered with my union dues. It was a simple thing to say yes.

There have been a few courses, though, that have been really tough. And struggling in school is not something I did growing up. It was easy. School was simple. Now the struggle makes me feel stupid. Dumb even. It is hard.

Now, I know that I am not stupid or dumb. I do not need anyone to tell me that. My depression needs to hear it though and I grow tired of talking to my depression and explaining things. I am not asking you to say I’m smart or beautiful. I just want you to know why I am sometimes hard on myself and others for not knowing something.

depression, emotions, Motivation


I am older today than I was yesterday. It seems like such an amazing thing to say you are alive and another day older. Yet, there are those, especially in the gay community, that view that age as a disability. I am not just another day older. I am a figment of an ancient past. An artifact to be tossed in a museum.

The fight to be relevant in the gay community ended decades ago for me. I just do not care. I am not going to be a certain way or dress a certain way. I am not going to like something just because the community has embraced.

I like my gay bars. Community bars just aren’t the same. The protection and safety are not there. The younger generations may not understand the need for protection and safety when it comes to going out since the country has evolved quite a bit, especially in major cities.

I may be old and I may be an artifact, but Zeus was never a spring chicken either, baby.

depression, Motivation


I have a confession to make. I have an appointment with a psychologist. I think I’m ready to try and move another step forward. It is so easy to say that I’m good. I don’t need to improve. But I do.

I want to build a craft area where I can make and perfect my bath and body products. I want to finalize the name of the LLC that I’m going to start and create a logo. I want my friends and colleagues to think of me when they are buying small gifts for people.

I want more.

Change is hard though. Some of my steps forward have been disastrous. I lost a few friends and acquaintances during one of those steps. I don’t mind. I know I’m difficult. I just have to remember that these appointments and these steps forward have consequences outside of me. That’s why it’s hard to do this.

But I am doing this.

I am taking the next step.

I have an appointment.

depression, Motivation


I thought I would be clever and download a Word of the Day app. I have gotten into the habit of having one word titles on my posts, so why not.

Today’s word is Raiment. That is an old fashioned word for fancy clothing.

Sometimes I like to put on my raiment and walk about to boost my mood. I’m fancy that way.

I’m not sure this is going to work, though. I guess we will see. If it pushes me to at least post more, maybe it will be worth it baby.