Maybe this helps.

Last night my wife and I were talking, and she mentioned that she wasn't sure of the reason, but that I didn't seem to be getting as deeply depressed as I had been in the recent past.  She figures it might be the diet (Whole30) or my new meds.  I feel a little guilty, but I haven't told her that I started writing here in my blog again, and I think that this could be a 3rd option as to why.  At her suggestion I have written about my feelings in the past, and it seems to have helped then.  I guess giving voice to my insecurities helps me get a better handle on them, maybe gives me a better perspective.  I'm still going to keep seeing the psychologist though, because I do have some deep issues I don't know how to resolve, like my fear of change and conflict.

Reflections

Last night I was at work.  It was evening, maybe around 9pm.  The sun was mostly down; there was a thin sliver of brightness on the horizon, and the sky above was a beautiful shade of dark to midnight blue.  I enjoyed the color so much that I just stared out the window up at the sky for a few minutes.  I can't remember the last time I did that.  It was nice.

After a few minutes the color changed and wasn't as pretty to me, so I brought my gaze in and caught sight of my reflection in the window.  My very first thought when I saw myself was about how disappointed in me my younger self would be.  I'm 44 years old, I have a face covered in grey public hair, I'm stuck in a low-wage, dead-end job, and I contribute nothing to my household other than my wages.  Well, that's not true; once in a while I do make dinner.

I had such aspirations when I was younger.  I wanted to be a drummer, a stunt man, an actor, a singer, a pianist, a bass player, practically anything having to do with computers interested me.  I was going to college and was going to major in computer science.  I was going to join the Marines, and do... something with computers, I don't even know what now. 

Somewhere in my youth, I gave up.  I think it started around 3rd grade.  I used to be in the AT class, Academically Talented, a separate class for students with good grades across the board.  My parents pulled me out of them when my grades started suffering.  Then in 4th grade I got my first F in a marking period, in history.  Things got worse after that and I don't really want to relive it all right now, but suffice to say that I eventually got mostly back on track, made some friends and had a small social life.  Until I fucked it all up and had to move away.

I think what I'm realizing is that I've always rolled over and done the easy thing.  It was easier in school to not do my work and fail than to try hard for a passing grade.  It was easier for me to lose my job and let my parents come rescue me than it would have been for me to try and find a job and support myself.  And right now it is easier for me to sit here and work at this dead end job than to expend the effort to search for a different job that doesn't stress me so much.

What a great example I am setting for my kids.  They must be so proud of their dad.