Depression Lies

I’m not okay.

It’s hard to admit that, and even harder to do it here, on a blog I only just recently decided to walk away from. People who do not like me (and they are legion) will treat this new post as a punchline to my last one, where I declared my intent to be done with this site. They’ll crack jokes and snicker, and do all the other horrible things Internet People do to make the lives of others a little less bearable.

Which is fine. I can take it. I’ve been dealing with that sort of person my entire life. For a very brief period in the Lord of the Flies middle school years, I was one of those people, and I’ll always regret it.

But now I’m past the point of caring about the opinions of people who just like watching others fail – for the moment, at least. Ask me again tomorrow, and I’ll probably be biting my fingernails and crying in the shower over how miserable they’ve made me feel. And an hour after that, I’ll have moved on to worrying about something else.

Because that’s how Depression works.

Although, I never actually realized that until literally just now, after Wil Wheaton told me that’s how it works.

I remember seeing people talking about this video he recorded recently for Project UROK where he discusses his own struggles with anxiety and depression. I never clicked it though, because I’ve only ever had about as much use for other people’s advice as I’ve had for roadway warning signs advising me that a road constructed below sea level in a flood plain may, in fact, flood.

Because advice is usually just awful. And obvious.

And depression advice is the absolute worst.

Giving happy advice to depressed people on how to not be depressed is kind of like praying to end hunger while you’re throwing away your leftovers. It doesn’t actually help anyone, and really just pisses us off.

But Wil didn’t offer advice. That’s not how he works. Instead, he just talks to you. And me. And anyone else who will listen, then lets us take it from there. He’s a great guy and one of the nicest, most genuine people on the Internet, along with other kind souls who have helped me more than they’ll ever know, like Jenny Lawson and J.K. Rowling. (And Wil’s own wife, Anne.) And all he did was talk about what he’d experienced, which sounded a lot like everything I’ve ever experienced for the majority of my life.

I worry about things. About all the things. All the time.

I’m constantly on edge, and can react completely irrationally in the face of even the smallest adversity. (e.g. walking away from a site I’ve worked on for seven years just because the past few posts haven’t done very well.)

These are things Wil talks about having had to live with, until he got help. His solution was counseling and medication, but he wasn’t advocating either. Because depressed people don’t need advice.

We need understanding.

We need to know that we’re not alone, that other people have been where we are. And then decide what to do about it. For ourselves.

My therapy has always been writing, and it probably always will be. I can’t just walk away from it, even when I feel like I really want to.

After announcing the end of this site, I was inundated with desperate pleas from 2 or 3 thousand people, begging me to keep going. I had one friend basically tell me to screw the world and keep writing for myself, which was probably good advice. But I didn’t listen to any of them, because I tend to disregard advice as a general life rule, sort of thing.

What changed my mind was when Wil talked about overreacting to stupid things when he was depressed, which is me for about 90% of my day. Every day.

It was certainly me when I decided to draw the shutters and bar the door on this site.

It has certainly been me the past few days when all I’ve wanted to do is sleep until I was so well rested that I couldn’t sleep anymore, which just made everything that much worse.

And it was certainly me up until about half an hour ago, just before I clicked on Wil’s video.

But it’s not me right now.

Sure, I’m still depressed. I’ve still been laid off, I’m still unemployed, I still have no decent job prospects, and I’m still plugging away at writing for a site that hasn’t yielded any real fruit over the past seven years – but I’m not stopping. I’m not stopping because I’m not going to overreact to a stupid thing. I’m not going to let a couple of lower-performing posts distort my sense of self-worth so badly that all my motivation slips through a wormhole in my ego like some kind of horrifying confidence singularity.

My child is wise.

I’ll be back with a new post sometime in the next 24 hours. I’m going to continue the little series I started with My Monster Ear, then quit after I posted this one nobody clicked on. (Or, if you’d rather cry than laugh, check this out.)

If you don’t like the posts, then please feel free to continue not liking them. However, if you do like what I do here, please share the posts with your friends. Writing for myself is one thing, but writing to not be read is like eating popcorn without butter. People reading what I write is the reason I do it. And having people actually like what I’ve written is better medicine than any actual medicine I can think of.

I’m not going to say something as dramatic as, “Wil Wheaton saved my life” tonight or anything, because my wife and stepson already did that years ago, and continue to do so on a daily basis. But he did put things into perspective.

And, for now…

I’m okay.

Want some books? 'Course ya do!

NOTE:  I know times are hard and yeah, I need to make a living too, but if you want to read any of my books but can't afford to buy them right now, hit me up.

I'll take care of it.

Humor | Nonfiction
Available now from the following retailers

Have you ever lived through an experience that was so humiliating that you wanted to die, but when you tell it to all your friends, they can't stop laughing?

Have you ever made a decision that seemed like a good idea at the time, but you're still living with the hilarious consequences years later?

If so, then grab a snack, get comfortable, and prepare to have all of your own poor life choices seem just a little bit more bearable.

You're welcome.

Short Stories
Available now from the following retailers

The nine stories of rage and sadness collected here range from the most intimate of human experiences to the wildest realms of magic and fantasy. The first story is a violent gut-punch to the soul, and the rest of them just hit harder from there.

Those who tough it out will find a book filled with as much hope as despair, a constant contradiction pulling you from one extreme to another.

Life might knock us down, over and over, and will the beat the ever-loving snot out of us from the time we're old enough to give it attitude until the day we finally let it win and stop getting up.

Always get back up.

Gaming | Nonfiction
Available now from the following retailers

This isn't just a book. It's a portal to other worlds where there be magic and dragons and hilarious pirates. Okay, not really. But this book is about those portals, except they're called video games.

The Life Bytes series of books take a deep dive into one man's personal journey through childhood into kinda/sorta being a responsible, competent adult as told through the magical lens of whatever video games he was playing at the time.

Part One starts way back in 1975 and meanders down various digital pathways until, oh, around about 1993 or so.

If you're feeling nostalgic for the early days of gaming or if you just want to understand why the gamer in your life loves this hobby so much, take a seat in your favorite comfy chair and crack this bad boy open.

I'll try to not be boring.

Horror
Available now from the following retailers

What you are about to read is not a story. There is no beginning, middle, or end.

What follows is nothing more than a series of journal entries involving shadow people, sleep paralysis, and crippling fear. It’s not pretty, it doesn’t follow story logic, and nothing works out well in the end.

You've been warned.