Doom and gloom

Today I woke up in a panic. Our business processes are in shambles. We are likely to miss our deadlines. As the manager, I feel responsible. I don’t feel like I’m getting through to them. Maybe I’m in over my head. I’m failing for sure. I wonder if my boss thinks he made a mistake bringing me in. Will I get fired?

This is not a great way to start the day. On top of that, my strength, my wife, is leaving town on an 11-day cruise with her mother. So I get to comfort myself. The pain is excruciating, and I’m tired. I wish I could sleep u tail she returns. I wish I could get through to the team. I hope my boss sees the good things I do. I wish I could stop thinking of easy ways to stop the pain.

I wish I was stronger. I wish I wasn’t broken.


Half-way through the day

Stupid anxiety is playing tricks on me. The butterflies left, but flocked back. I just want to go home, or I want to engage. Anything but this nebulous floating around and feeling gross. I think this is why people get so fed up with this shit. It’s not consistent. It can strike you when you least expect it, and you know how much better it can be. Talk about driving someone crazy. 

Next up is another interview, and I need to make sure the team is making progress on the release. Yet I feel like everyone is judging me, waiting for me to fail. I fantasize about going back to my old team. I don’t want to deal with personnel issues. 

Just…screw this. Seriously.

Found some strength

After dealing with the mire of anxiety and self-destruction yesterday, I found some strength this morning. I could chalk it up to Xanex, but part of dealing with depression is finding inner strength where you can. Today, I will refuse to be intimidated by my responsibilities. I will deal with my difficult employee. I will take charge of what is happening on my team and go above and beyond to try to influence others to take responsibility. These are my strengths and I will play to them. I will not think about curling up under the blankets. I’ve put on my mask already, but I may take a chance at taking it off and letting people see the real fire in my eyes. 

Eventually, the Xanex will wear off. Will I make it? I think so. I have enough to work on today to help pass the hours pretty quickly. Then I get to meet with my therapist and talk to him about this week and the unexpected assault I’m under from anxiety. The end of the week is end sight; I can do this.

Who knows?

I wonder if the people that I interviewed today knew how I was feeling? I wonder if they were able to hear my anxiety through my mask? My stomach was filled with butterflies most of the day. I have no idea why they were there, nor why my brain was trying to convince me that I was worthless. Every positive thing I know about myself deserted me. 

Now I’m home and I’m feeling better. I have my dog next to me, and my kids. Unfortunately, I still have to face Thursday and Friday. Here’s hoping those days are better.

Life in the slow lane

#depressed #firstworldproblems

I’m in my 40’s, I’m a white male, and I’m depressed. Who gives a shit, right? We all have problems, especially these days. There are very few people that this directly effects. So why write a blog about it? What is so special about my problems that I need to air them out on a webpage? I think part of it is that I’m wondering how many others there are out there who are like me. Sometimes when I see someone absolutely lose their shit about something stupid, like politics or in traffic, I wonder if the guy I’m looking at is dealing with the same types of issues that I am but just doesn’t know how masks work. Or maybe he does but he’s had enough of pretending. I just don’t know, and probably never will. Guys on average don’t spend a lot of time figuring out their feelings. They just…live. 

It’s just not working for me. Every single morning, no matter how I’m feeling, I have to get up and face the world. For myself or for my family, I pull on my mask and push on through the day. Most people are fooled by it. They think I’m a funny guy who gets the job done. They don’t know how afraid I am. They don’t know that often, if I had the choice, I’d be at home under the covers watching the world go by. I wonder if other men feel the way I do? I am part of a group of like minded people on Facebook, but 95% of the women in the group are women. They talk about the things that I’m feeling; about feeling worthless and not wanting to deal with things. So am I as alone as I feel? 

I guess I’ve been spurred to start this blog by two recent events, mostly. First, on Mother’s Day, I was sitting with my family and I started thinking about work. In due course, a suicidal thought passed through my head, and it was so unexpected that it shocked me. How can someone who has come as far as I have even contemplate something so selfish? Yet there it was; “wouldn’t it be easier to be dead?” Ugh, thanks a lot, brain.

The second event was that an acquaintance shared the horrible news today that his daughter killed herself. She was suffering from depression, and he watched her slide down into the abyss, powerless to stop her. It really hit me hard because I feel that the level of pain that must bring is something that I wouldn’t be able to recover from. He saw her getting worse, and he felt like he was doing his best, but for someone in deep, there isn’t enough power in the world to stop someone who has made up their mind to end the pain. Now he has to move on with this giant hole in his life. I can’t even imagine. Yet, those thoughts sometimes jump out at me and catch me unaware. Am I destined to survive this fight? Will it ever end?

Reading back over this post, it seems very self-serving, but why stop now. I hope it does me some good to get this stuff out of my brain. Maybe someone will come across this and empathize. Yet this is just another dark corner of the internet, and I know I’m talking to myself.