Other People Are Better Writers

So this one time, a while back, I went to a talk by Guy Kawasaki at the Houston Technology Center. It was really cool to be there because I got to see a ton of people I only knew online. Sort of the Houston blogtelligencia. And I got to sit a few rows behind this amazing writer who goes by the nickname "the bloggess" but didn't get to actually meet her.

So, of course, everyone I met that night (or saw) became so much cooler and more worthy of reading their writings. None more than the bloggess though. She is blisteringly funny in a way I'll never be. But I do read her religiously even if I envy her breezy charm. And unique phrasing.

Today she wrote something about mental illness. It's at

http://thebloggess.com/2011/01/coming-out/

Go ahead. Read it. I'll wait. And when you're done, go ahead and read Lori's blog too. It's more important than mine.

So, I read Lori's blog because of my never met her friend. And it broke my heart.

My wife once told me about a fellow in our neighborhood who went out in his car and blew his brains out. The family was having money problems and he felt he had failed them. And she said "I can't understand how he could possibly feel that bad and do that, can you?" And I said, "no. it's very sad" but I meant and thought: "of course I can, every guy does."

I think occasional thoughts of suicide are not that unusual for the human condition. I think it randomly goes through our brains as options fly through them. I think some of us actually think about it for a few minutes. I think most of us reject it out of hand because what we're really wishing for is a break that will take the difficulties of life away, not the end of our lives. And for some, I think it is a real possibility.

Understand, I am not one of those people. It crosses my mind from time to time. But I know it to be an inherently selfish act and one that is never justified. I believe in living to fight another day. That nothing so silly as a pile of bills is worth dying for. But I totally get the feeling that failing the one's you love makes you worthless. Very little cuts me more than when I feel that way. And I get that if you teeter on the line between it crossing your mind and seriously considering it, it would be pretty easy to tip over the wrong way.

Sometimes I wish to be released from my burdens. And sometimes I forget my joys. And sometimes i whine here when it gets to be too much. But I won the battle over despair.

I got treatment for my depression a decade or so ago. And while I have bad days, and sometimes Churchill's black dog has me, I did what Lori asked us all to do and got help.

Please do so too...

Scrooging

So, before in my life i was pretty well done with Christmas for a while. I did the bare minimum of family stuff and otherwise basically ignored it.

I'd like to do that again for a little while. I treasure some of the moments when my family seems happy and content. I love seeing the smiles on their faces and hearing them laugh.

But I take no joy in the rest of it. It is duty, not fun. I'd cancel the whole shindig if I could.

Of course, what I'd really like to do is reboot it and make it smaller and gentler and less stressful. Make it more the religious holiday and less the crucial sales season to save the economy (not that I don't think saving the economy is important). I'd rather decorate on Christmas Eve and take everything down after the Epiphany. I'd rather see more hand made and thoughtful gifts and baked goods or more things done together than stress about how big a number we can make for the Christmas budget. I'd rather spend time with my wife than race around after her trying to keep up with her and maybe help a little.

I don't hate Christmas. But I dread it these days. It's pretty much only a chance to let people down by not meeting their expectations.

And the vacation and such I get is half gone before I get to breathe and rest a little. Honestly, I'd like to just take the wife and kids and head off somewhere quiet for a few days and just enjoy each other's company.

Have to go. Need to get ready for the next 27 things to do.

sigh.