Honesty

I'm going to diverge a little bit just to give you a little insight into myself today.

I seem to have been struck with a bout of depression and maybe a hint of anxiety.  I find that when I get depressed it's either a direct cause of something happening in my life or it comes about as though I've caught a cold, I can guess where it came from but it's all just speculation.  I find this particular case to be among the latter as well as the most frustrating.  I've been digging my mind for hours trying to find the source of these debilitating emotions that seem to have latched onto me today.  If I find the source of the problem then I can fix it right?  Sometimes this is true, but even if I can't fix it I feel slightly eased knowing where this is coming from.  

When I was faced with my appendectomy, I was so overwhelmed by the extreme pain in my abdomen.  It was a pain that I had never before experienced.  I was doing ridiculous things like hanging upside down from my bed just to try and ease this mysterious ailment.  When my worried wife and mother finally convinced me to go to the ER and we discovered the source of my agony; I was relieved even though I knew I would soon encounter my first ever surgery.  The words, "You have appendicitis," were more calming than the powerful painkillers they would soon inject intravenously.  Why is this?

It may have something to do with my Mr. Fix It mentality.  Growing up, my father would fix and build everything and much of the time I was by his side helping or watching at least.  Soon after learning how to ride a bike without training wheels, I learned how to fix the chain that I had just popped off the sprocket.  After a hurricane would hit, my dad and I would be out in the backyard replacing the fence that had just been blown over.  It is in my very nature to fix!  Fixing things is part of what, I feel at least, makes me a man.  Therefore I am digging myself deeper in this pit of depression because not only am I depressed, but I can't find the source, meaning I can't fix it which in turn makes me more depressed!  Freakin' catch 22!

I'm pretty sure I suffer from some form of chemical imbalance that can be fixed with some meds.  Now you're probably thinking, "So he tells us to go to a psychologist but he doesn't go himself?!  Hypocrite!"  Yes, I know, I know.  In my defense, my finances aren't quite stable at the moment and, unfortunately, the whole process of becoming properly medicated can be a bit financially draining.  But that is a completely separate rant that will probably be dedicated to its own post later on.  So for now I think I'll wrap this case up by saying that this is the source of a chemical imbalance that will be dealt with when my finances are stable enough to do so.  In fact, just typing this up has made me feel quite a bit better.

I think I'll conclude this with a picture of my recent antidepressants.  Nothing like taking funny Photobooth pictures with the woman of my dreams, my amazing sister in law, Chiara, and the darn coolest puppy ever, Walter: