Discarding your past and looking towards this precious moment

My depression journey continues…I had a unexpected crash the last week.  Unexpected because I've been generally trending  back towards the light. 

 

The most obvious reason: another three day holiday weekend without seeing another person.  I also did cocaine for the first time in 18 months.  The high has never been worth the depressive dip on the way down.  Good to be reminded, particularly when I'm using healing medicines to aid my path forward.

 

The endless days alone, without plans, makes me recall the friends I used to have. 

 

What on earth was I thinking?  These were never my peeps, and none of them were the kind of empaths who could help someone who craves safety and care. Or who realized I felt like a failure every time I saw them, since I couldn't find the connection I needed so badly.  I've known so many others who were much better matched—hopefully I met some of their needs—but for whatever reason I invested most of my energy in a frustrating cycle of group get-togethers.

 

To my "empath" friends who have saved my sorry ass for so long—I really want to apologize to you.  I have not been available, pursuing "false gods" who couldn't accurately identify a single feeling I've had in decades.

 

I'm writing to you, Joel and Angela, Dee, Diana, Sherrye, Jon, Lucretia, Matt.  And the small group of others. With apologies and profound gratitude.

 

So what on earth was I doing with people who never called me back?  With a wife who threatened divorce whenever her needs—which are bizarrely monumental!—were not met.  Whew…the friends were just useless, but my wife was so unhappy with me for so long that she felt entitled to ignore basic manners. 

 

What are earth was my wife thinking when she came back three times from 5 month or longer affairs or absences.  Did she think she'd given me the lesson I deserved for being a miserable angry human being? 

 

Kinda like a prison sentence, and then she would come back as the benign prison warden.  How frustrating for her to expect that I'd be receptive to her method of instruction (this method would be illegal with kids, but I'm 69 so I guess that's OK). 

 

I was always a "carrot" person---and people who respond to praise are the people I've loved the most in my life.  Carrot people are the reason I've built two very fun and very successful businesses. 

 

Yet, I lived with a woman for 30 years (she was ghosting me for more than 10% of that period) and invested the prime part of my social life in a cerebral group of "stick" people. 

 

I did enjoy and miss my wife and my friends, and hope maybe some day I'll connect with them again.  But they are not my tribe.  Not my people.  Not like me.  Not me.