All about ME

That's right, this one is all about me. Well hell, most of them are all about me, but this one's a tad different. I think I wrote something way back about how I ended up not only where I am but how I am. I suppose I could dig bag and look, but I'm not gonna. I'm just going to write a new one, of sorts.

As anyone who has read any of my mindless drivel is aware, I'm fat, broken down, depressed and pretty much a walking (when I can) mess. Yes, I've come a long, long way from a couple years ago. But I've still a long ways to go. I ask myself sometimes, just how the hell did this happen? How did I get so fat, so beat up.

Now one of the things, the important things, about depression is it lies. It is one lie telling mother fucker. It talks up a good ol' story. It tells you all kinds of things. And being the fib telling bastard that it is, it's very believable. It beats you down until you believe the lies. Until you can't see past them. It tells you things like "it's all your fault", "you're useless". You know, fun, cheery shit. It builds walls in your memory, skews the past, covers everything with a thick, dark fog. So when you think about the past, about how things happened and how you got to the point you're at all you can remember is the negative. I remember all the bad things really well, vividly in fact. I can remember strange little details that most people probably wouldn't. When it comes to the good, not so much. I have to struggle.

So I was sitting here on my arse earlier today wandering about the internet and my old photos and what not thinking about how I ended up here. At some point I looked at my facebook and a friend had posted a photo of a whale next to a boat with the caption of "on my bucket list" and I realized, wow, not only have I don't that once but I've done it so many times that it started to feel normal and boring. Another friend posted a photo of the northern lights and people responded the same way, oh that's on my bucket list, I would love to see that, so on and so on. I sat and looked at the picture and realized; wow, I've seen that, more than once. And a small appreciation for the life I've lived started to sink in.

Yes, I've beat the hell out of my body. And my mind. I'm very fat. I'm out of shape. I am in constant pain. All this is true. Also true is that I have seen and done things in my 38 years that most people only dream about. I've been places that others only hope to see. I've been more things than the average character actor. I've lived through things that would have killed most people. And I never really truly stopped to appreciate it.

I've been to SE Alaska. I've seen glaciers calve, even ridden the waves they make in a small rubber raft. I've seen the northern lights and Orcas in the morning. I've watched whales bubble net and breach. I've sailed a boat down the Florida keys, around the other side and up the gulf. I've spent a week on a sailboat in the Bahamas. I've traveled. I've played. I've lived. And none of that ever occurred to me, not really.

I've walked away from motorcycle wrecks, car wrecks, horse wrecks and many a bicycle wreck. I've been kicked in the head, the nads and all points in between. I almost drowned, twice. I've been shot at, had knives pulled on me and threatened with all sorts of nasty ends. I've been a farmer, a construction worker, a cook, a bouncer, a deck hand, engineer and mate. I've cut down trees and planted grass. Built trails, roads, bridges, houses and a couple cars. I've been in fights, I've been in pain and I've enjoyed many a pleasure. But I never really enjoyed it. Not then. Depression wouldn't ever let me. And the one constant in my life, through all the years, all the places, faces, jobs, moves, road trips, camping trips and occasional acid trips, was the depression.

So, as I sit here with my knees throbbing at me, I find myself wondering, why do I hurt. I didn't do anything to make my knees hurt. What's with this pain. And then I remember, yes I did, I lived. Until, at some point living turned to surviving. Or maybe it's always been that way. I survived, creatively. Well now it's time to start living. Before it's time to start getting ready to die.