This is as smiley as I get.
It will
take a few paragraphs to describe the smile on my face, and yes that is a
smile. I’m not good at the whole posing
for the camera thing. I don’t have a
smiley-type face, either. My default
expression is one of slight disappointment, if I needed to define it. Nothing too sad, just the look on your face
when you thought they called your name to pick up your coffee, but it turns out
it was someone else. Aw, dude…
I may have this puss on because I
grew up in a negative home. I’m not here
to disparage my parents, but I have to set a stage. The collective fears of the home manifested
themselves into catch phrases, drinking, and not a lot of hope. Life’s
a bitch, then you die. Shit happens. You can’t
win ‘em all. My brother and I both
characterize those times by doing an impression of my parents. After telling a depressing story of something
not working out in their favor; as they sipped a beer of took a drag off a
cigarette, they would shrug their shoulders and say: Story of my life.
As you may imagine this did not do
much for our outlook on life. It not
only made me feel most things were unattainable and impossible; they weren’t
even worth trying in the first place. Couple those happy thoughts with some
anxiety and you have me. I didn’t
realize it at the time, but I was doing anything to not think about myself and
the decisions I had to make. I didn’t
drink to distract myself, but I distracted myself nonetheless. (Thanks, TV.)
Cut to me as a father of three and a
mostly functioning, self-aware adult. I
don’t want my kids to think life is just endless limitations, nor or do I want
to fill their heads with Pollyanna horseshit about ‘you can do anything you set
your mind to’. That sounds harsh, but
belief that you can do something only gets you started. I stressed that there are plenty of things
you can attain in this country, but the work to get them varies greatly. Basically, if you want A you have to work
very hard. If you want B, you won’t have
to work as hard, but you won’t make the same money as A. If you want to follow your dream and go after
C, the odds are pretty tough, but if you are dedicated you have a shot. It doesn’t fit on a bumper sticker; and it
shouldn’t because we’re talking about children’s lives here.
But above all else, I tried to be
positive. I struggled with my anxiety
for so long as they were small, and there is a lot of crap I would like to take
back. I wasn’t anywhere near
perfect. But, I kept trying to be better. I wanted them to tell me about how they were
progressing. I wanted them to tell me their stories of their day, even though
none of them are big talkers. It was so
important to me that they felt like they mattered, and they were allowed to
screw up, but above all else, they had to keep trying. We never hounded them
about activities. Just find something
and make a few new friends. You can quit, but you better have something else
lined up to try, even if it’s just self -improvement like exercise, reading or
getting better grades.
Trying is a manifestation of being positive.
Trying is an indicator of hope.
For me, I had to be medicated. I know some people don’t like to hear
that. Some people think that’s cheating. You are free to think whatever you like, I
just know that without my pills, my life would be very different. You see, that smile in that picture would not
have happened a mere four years ago.
Going to a comedy show, which is still a rarity in my life, was like this:
Sit down, the lights go dark. Then the thoughts roll in. Worry that I spent too
much money. Worry about going to my shitty
job on Monday. Wish I could get out
more often but I’m too broke. Regret that
I never had a comedy career. Get pissed
at the guy in the corner who is shitfaced and is laughing like an asshole. Get pissed at myself because I’m too
negative.
Notice I didn’t mention anything
about enjoying the show? That’s how life
used to be, nearly every moment of every day.
Dread and despair.
The pills correct the chemicals in
my brain so my ability to enjoy things is at a normal level. They aren’t uppers or downers or
goofballs. They adjust an abnormality in
my head. Like my glasses help me see
clearer. The cushioning in my shoes protect
me from calluses and foot pain. My belt
keeps my pants up.
When
I went to the comedy club where this photo was taken, I just laughed like an
idiot and had a good time. No negative, poisonous thoughts whatsoever. It was like
normal people. I laughed and my wife and
I had a fun night out. On the outside it
looks as exciting as picking out butter at Albertson’s.
After
the show was finished, we left the showroom into the hall where the Sklars were
having a meet and greet and selling merch.
I walked right up to them and asked for a photo, and they complied because
they are cool guys who have done this thousands of times. I thanked them and left and smiled the entire
drive home. No big deal. Well, not
anymore.
