May is Mental Health month, and I see many great posts from people around the world who have experiences and commentary; and I think to myself:
“Wow, I am blessed that I do not suffer from this disease.”
Only, of course…
Spring cleaning recently, I dug through a bunch of miniDV tapes on an old camcorder, mainly from around the Millennium. At the time, I was “between” – places, people, relationships, jobs, plans.
As an early advocate of digital tech and tools, I often had my camcorder with me and recorded various observations of the world around me. #SelfieLife!
I found some late-night reflections of those between phases. One was made at YVR airport on my way home to the UK. Another in the living room of a mate’s place on whose floor I was sleeping; another watching World Cup matches from the time of my birth, drunk…
In them, I unnervingly looked at the camera and discussed my uncertainty and unhappiness. More than once I observed:
“I have never (knowingly) been depressed, but this is as about as close to it as I have ever been…”
I only vaguely recall making these, 20 years later. But it was me. It is me.
I showed the videos to Lori, then threw them away (not through any kind of shame or disgust). I don’t want to forget that sense. Here we are, in COVID days, and I have a new sense of uncertainty. What world will we live in? How will we prosper? Where is the work?
I cannot go forward alone. Twenty years ago, I felt isolated from place and people and purpose. These days, luckily, I have that: my family grounds me; my home is my cocoon; ok, the work part is missing but I am focusing on my side projects. I know what I am good at and what I can offer. These help me navigate the terrain of uncertainty.
I hope you have that network of support, as crutches to prevent you falling or as helping hands to pick you up. If not, there are people there for you. Literally, we are all in this together. How can I help?
This Much We Know.