Just another part of my honesty phase (I know...it's getting old)

I've been depressed for a long time. Wait...no...I was depressed for a long time. I hated school in High School. The socialness of it, the cliquiness, the snottiness--hated it (I did have some good friends though). Then I went to college and lived with Matt my swimming buddy in good ol' Russel Hall at UGA, but alas, I couldn't stand that either. Looking back on it now (and after reading up on depression for the last few years), I've realized how terribly negative I was in my youth. I was negative about the world but especially about myself. It seemed like I couldn't get anything right. I got through the depression over time (all it took was a diagnosis of Brain Cancer and a forced positive attitude...just those two small things).

Eventually, I graduated from college and decided that I needed to see a place that exemplified what I'd been studying in college (Anthropology and Religion). Thailand and other parts of Southeast Asia had just gotten wiped out by a major tidal wave (Dec. 2004), so I decided to go to Thailand for 6 weeks. After I returned (a bit thin and distraught), I moved up to Philly (not knowing a thing about the city) for grad school (but really to play in a band. Grad school was just what I decided to tell the 'accomplished' folks who asked). Unfortunately, four years later I was just depressed as ever. Nothing had changed.


What happened was that during college I hid it more and more from my friends, but more importantly, I was hiding it from myself. I knew it back in 7th and 8th grade but over time it seemed like it slowly faded from existence itself. Looking back on it later on, I rationalized it that it was just a perfect example of the terror and horror of growing up in East Cobb. I was wrong though.

In the last two years (since I've been diagnosed), I slowly began to wake up to my state of mind. You see I had to think positively. There was absolutely no other way around it. Eventually thinking positively actually took hold of me; that's when I really began to notice what had become of my old state of mind. 

What initially began to wake me up was an article that I read about depression. Essentially the article says that clinically depressed people don't express any of their ideas for what they want to accomplish in their lives because they don't enjoy anything. Apparently enjoyment precedes the discovery of what a person is good at and the desire to do something with one's life. If you don't enjoy anything, you can't possibly know what you're good at. The article goes on to say that depression causes the victim to lose a sense of what being happy even is. Clinically depressed people eventually forget what happiness feels like; they lose the sense of its meaning. After reading this, I began to wonder if maybe that's why I tried all those different hobbies and jobs. I just didn't have any sense of what I wanted to do with my life. To this day, I still notice myself wondering if people are walking around 'happy' or 'satisfied' or if they're just walking around as miserable as I was.

Now I know what being happy and satisfied actually is--it just took a brain tumor and a positive attitude, that's all. Now I know you're wondering why I'm going into this this extended diatribe about my depression (wah wah, I know). It's because now I have an excuse for going back to Philly (besides the fact that I have tons of great friends up there and a band to boot). This may sound cheesy, but I mean to start Philly over again, to start living over again. 

Thanks for reading.         

After six months...I can drive!

This is me contentedly hugging my new car. I got my license back yesterday, and drove around all night (actually just to two coffee shops and Walgreens), but nonetheless, the world seems so big now. I can go to Athens whenever I want, or I can go down to Atlanta whenever I feel that it's necessary--on a whim, if you will. The best part is that I don't have to wait two hours to get anywhere AND I don't have to wait for people to pick me up. I can come and go as I please. Ahhhh...

Honestly, I didn't let myself get depressed about this whole ordeal (an effect of my 'positive' attitude I guess), but let me tell you something: not being able to drive in metro Atlanta is not for the weak of heart. I could've very easily lost my mind and watched clowns jumping around in my mind but thanks to my 'positivity' (I put it in quotes because I'm not entirely convinced of its existence), I managed to keep my mind focused on more beneficial items. Here's to driving!

Thanksgiving and half-way to the end

This is how I spent my Thanksgiving: My family and I met with my sister's boyfriend Matt and his family at at her house for the Great Thanksgiving Meal. Now I realize that you're probably wondering why I capitalized the previous words. This is because, for the thirteen of us populating our group, we had two disproportionately large turkeys, one hock of ham, and several slices of chicken, not to mention all the dishes of fancy we had to accompany our wonderful meal. By the end, I was wondering when the next table of 13 would be coming in to finish off the meal (that we could tag-team wrestling style, of course). Unfortunately for me though, I was on chemo, and my hunger was somehow below zero (which means I didn't want the food in me, aka, I wanted to vomit). Unfortunately for me (or possibly fortunately depending on your perspective on the issue), I didn't get to eat all that much. It was a nice Thanksgiving though. I'll give it that much.  

Which brings us to my second point, as of right now I'm halfway through the chemo portion of this happy little venture (which I will not look back on with anything resembling a smile in any way). My red and white blood cell levels are slowly descending so there's a chance that I may have to have some other treatment sooner or later, but that's neither here nor there.

So I booked a flight to start the move back up to Philly.  Hopefully, I'll hear good news that I may (or hopefully will) receive at my doctor's appointment on Jan. 10th. Then I'm flying back here on January 12th to go to Kev Toland's wedding in San Diego, so I somehow got sucked into a road trip involving 4 friends, 2 dogs, and 1 car (I'm actually really glad. It'll be tons of fun and exactly what I need after all the craziness of the last couple years). 

This whole deal still seems unreal to me, though. I haven't worked more than a few hours a week this year (I wonder if my back will get tired from standing all day like it used to when I first started working in the service industry back in High School.) I don't know if I signed up for starting life up again like I'm back in high school. Not that I didn't have some good times back then, but I'd hate to be in that angsty phase again. I'm glad those years are behind me...far behind.