(It's Not) About Me
I asked a friend for some feedback about the site and blog so far. One thing they mentioned is that in the "About" section, I don't say anything about me.
"That's because," I told her, "it's not about me. I mean it is about me because it’s my catharsis, but I’m sharing it so publicly in hopes it helps others."
I understand, however, that some might still want to know more about me. So here it goes. Just remember as you learn more about me that though this blog may be written in first person, it's not about me.
"How by a certain machine many may stay some time under water. And how and wherefore I do not describe my method of remaining under water and how long I can remain without eating. And I do not publish nor divulge these, by reason of the evil nature of men, who would use them for assassinations at the bottom of the sea by destroying ships, and sinking them, together with the men in them. Nevertheless I will impart others, which are not dangerous because the mouth of the tube through which you breath is above the water, supported on air sacks or cork."
"When you put together the science of the motions of water, remember to include under each proposition its application and use, in order that this science may not be useless."
Maestro Leonardo Da Vinci
I’m blessed with the life I have created. It took a shit-ton of blood, sweat, tears, and sacrifice to get here, but it’s something pretty special.
Yet I still have depression.
It’s not lost on me that I’m a white, middle-aged, middle class, cis male in a society that - in this day and age - probably has no sympathy for the stories of my life.
Yet I still have depression.
I’m certainly not going to say my life has been harder than the lives of so many billions around the world. It’s just not by any stretch. I wholeheartedly recognize that.
Yet I still have depression.
I didn’t grow up in the inner city, an impoverished country, or homeless.
But I know what it’s like to have everything, and then lose it…over and over again.
I know what it’s like to lose your house and not know where you’re going to live.
I know what it’s like to move 4 times between ages 12 and 17.
I didn’t grow up under despotic rule or in fear for my life on a daily basis.
But I did grow up with more kids wanting to kick my ass than be my friend.
I grew up in fear of the playground and what would happen when I got off the bus.
I grew up in fear of the older kids in the neighborhood.
I grew up in fear of going to school every day, and not having anyone to sit with.
I grew up in fear of being alone, because every day I felt alone.
I didn’t grow up a victim of sexual or physical abuse.
But I did grow up, unbeknownst to me, with substance abuse.
Later in life, I experienced unwanted sexual assault
which, as a guy, I was very self-conscious to disclose.
People just don't believe that can happen to straight men.
Much more devastating, though,
is that my oldest daughter had the horror of experiencing it, too.
And I couldn't protect her from it.
I didn’t grow up an orphan or with no family.
But I was practically shunned by half of my family for no good reason.
And I know what it’s like to have parents, but grow up feeling like nobody was there for me.
I didn’t grow up a victim of racism.
But I did grow up confronting the ugliness of antisemitism.
I didn’t grow up with any significant physical challenges.
I just wasn’t coordinated or “sports-inclined”.
So I was always picked last, or close to it.
I didn’t grow up a victim of homophobia.
But I worry my youngest will have an uphill battle.
Today they told me that they are “illegal in 74 countries.”
I had no idea. I also had no idea they knew that.
They are 11.
Yes, I recognize that as challenging as my life has been, it could have been and could be a lot worse. I’m not trying to claim some special right to sympathy. But my depression is my own.
We are products of our environment, all of us. We have the gifts we’re given, and our burdens to bear. Comparing our problems to others’ doesn’t always make us feel better, because though we intend to feel better by saying "it could always be worse", we can fall into the trap of creating yet one more thing to feel guilty and depressed about.
What right do I have to feel so bad when so many people have it worse?
Epiphany - I have every right.
To deny the validity of my own feelings is to invalidate my right to exist.
I have every right to exist, and every right to my feelings.
Charity begins at home. If I want to give more of myself to maybe make the world a little better, then I need to make myself better first.
In that way, getting better - though about me - is not about me.
Except that it also is.
I just hope is that someone out there may come across this blog some day, read a story they can relate to on some level, and instead of comparing their feelings to the exactitude of my life, they take heart to know they are not alone.
To that end I also give you this gift given to me by my therapist.
Page 202 of the Dialectical Behavior Therapy Skills Workbook.
