I lost another friend

What Scout said.

Gonna flex here and say one of my two jobs is counseling and assessment for further intervention. So, yeah. You need to talk to somebody in the flesh, right there in front of you. The right person will help you get yourself moored someplace safe.

Everybody here has given you some very good advice. I'm gonna go out on a limb and say these are good people who honestly care. I can't add too much to what's already been posted except to say that you need to talk to somebody with the bona fides and a degree of clinical remove soon.

However, I will add this: Sports writing is a pretty rough and tumble place. I have a friend who is, oh my goodness... He's smart and funny and has a soft nougat center when one gets to know him. He can also come off like a tin-eared idiot. Still, he's a good guy.

The other day, someone talked about how people -particularly men- in West Texas tend to use abusive terms when talking to each other in a friendly manner. This baffled the speaker. Having partially grown up in Lubbock, I remembered how macho the general culture was. Of course they greet each other with, "Hi, Jackass!" "Howyadoon, Slapdick?" It's West Texas. I bring this up because it reminded me of phone calls that more often than not started off with, "What do you want now, Asshole?"

Do you see where I'm going with this?

The other thing -and then I'm done, I promise!- is about being on the spectrum. It's gotten trendy to be "a little autisitic" or refer to yourself as a self-diagnosed aspie. If you have a family history of it and suspect you might be a part of that HX (clinical chartingese for history) go get tested! It's going to make so much that has had you confused and hurt by interactions start to make sense. Get that DX so you can move on with a better understanding of how your beautiful brain processes stuff! (DX= diagnosis.)

One more thing... God. I'm sorry. Being on the spectrum does not mean you have no feelings and cannot empathize. There are some people who are Mr. Spock types, but there are also a lot of us (yes, I'm one) who swing the opposite direction. If we don't watch it, EVERYTHING is a big deal. Sound familiar?

Okay. Now I'm done. Consider me one of the people in the stands rooting for you.

 

You're in a bad spot, for sure. One of the problems when you're in such a spot is that you can't see life being any other way. You can remember it having been better. You can't foresee it getting better. When I was in the depths, my brain would get into some terrible pattern of either imagining bad things happening or not being able to imagine a way to get to better things. That's textbook depression. It's hard, but it's also treatable. And as hard as it is to believe when you're in the middle of it, it will lift. It could also come back. It probably will. It's like alcoholism in that it's never cured. But there will come a time, I promise you, when you look back on who you are now, today, and don't recognize that person. That's how far removed you will one day feel from today.

I can remember so clearly... So, after my job and my marriage shit, after I got out of the worst of the bog, I put 1,000 irons into the fire, hoping one or two might come back. (Divorce is expensive, and my job, magazine writing, basically didn't exist anymore. That's a pickle.) They were all, looking back, ridiculous long shots, but I was desperate. One was a movie pitch. For no good reason, a big director took a shine on me and the project, and we went together to a movie studio to pitch it. We sat together on a couch in an executive's office and pitched this lovely story, surrounded by movie posters. I was driving back to my hotel after—the Hampton Inn in Inglewood, because that's what I could afford—on the Los Angeles freeway, under big blue skies. And I felt a physical sensation of release. Like, what a wonderful experience. What a wonderful world. And I sat in my car and wept thinking back to where I'd been not that long before, trying to muster the courage to kill myself but also wanting to live, because I saw my children's faces every time I did.

It is a hard, hard thing, surviving sometimes. But you'll have your moment in the sun on the freeway. You really will. That's the trade. And the shit you're in right now will make that sun all the brighter.

 

Also, regarding autism—my older son is autistic—if you are autistic, that might help explain some things. It might give you some clarity, and it might help you cut yourself some slack. But it won't change anything about you. It will just give you a different name. You will still be you. That's important to remember.

 

Not related to the autism spectrum, but I was diagnosed with attention deficit disorder when I was 37. My therapist gave me a book to read about adults who faced it. Just reading the first couple of anecdotes started to make things that always confused/bothered/upset me and always confounded and infuriated people who knew me suddenly make sense.

It was really powerful one day to hear my dad talk about something that would have once caused him to rail about my being irresponsible and have him say, "it's not your fault!"

I'm so sorry about all the pain you're going through. I can only echo all the other folks who encourage you to go get therapy and develop a treatment plan that will help you through all of this.

I can empathize with feeling like the rug was pulled out from under me with a lost job. When the bell tolled for me, it almost destroyed me.

I'm glad I was able to get through all that and make it through some other difficulties. I wouldn't have made some of the great memories I have in recent years otherwise.

 

One other thing: Realize that all the bad stuff that has happened to/with you lately is all part of life. Not death.

It's all part of the journey. Remember that.

 

Fuck this shit. I don't care if it's written by someone with a PhD in clinical psychology. This is just dandy for someone feeling a little blue. When you are planning your suicide, it's time for a medical doctor, therapy and antidepressants. And if the first doctor/therapist sucks. keep looking.

 

You are not your downfalls ... remember that.
And it's OK to have good intentions with bad consequences in a world gone perfectly rotten.

 

Yeah, let's just stuff everyone with antidepressants. All will be pretty with flowers all around.

 

They work. That's why doctors prescribe them. If one isn't working, try another one. Eventually you'll find one that does the trick.

 

I don't think the situation regarding medication is that clear cut. And 'try another one' isn't always possible, one factor being side effects that a patient cannot tolerate.

My posting of the 6 steps was not meant for people who are suicidal. Obviously, they need immediate help.

The PhD who wrote the book treated people with clinical depression and is aware of the limits of medication.

 

Is he aware of the limits of his advice?

Because, guess what? If you're clinically depressed, you're not going to be interested in exercising. Or eating well. Or being involved in an engaging activity. Or doing much of anything at all besides going to work, going home, watching TV, eating and sleeping.

 

I think all the people he has treated gives him some idea.