Who Am I? Darkness of Depression Finds Sunny Skies

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Who am I? That has been something I have spent many years wondering. But in June of 1980, I was at one of the lowest moments of my life.

Everyone always says that your teen years are some of your best, for me, I sure hope not. Sure, there were some great times. But emotionally and mentally that was a very dark time for me.

I was graduating High School, and it should be having the-the time of my life. Most grads feel like they have the world by the tail and are preparing for a future. Not me, I was wondering what my purpose on this earth was, and I was lost.

Mental illness is an awful term, but that is what Bipolar disorder is in a nutshell. And I was suffering from the darkest depression I had ever experienced. I felt alone, unwanted, unloved, and completely lifeless.

Every morning I got up and went through the motions of living, but I wasn't. My sense of not belonging anywhere was adamant, and I was in such a dark place with no light. Then, out of the blue something happened.

My brother was not one who asked me to go with him places, and since he had gotten married, we hadn't spent any time together at all. So when he invited me to hang out with him after I got off of work, I should have wondered something. But in my haze of darkness I didn't.

We rode to a gas station, and Larry said he wanted to make a phone call. Again, I didn't think anything. He called Lynn asking him to come hang out with us. I thought okay, that was all right with me. I knew Lynn, but we didn't hang out or have the same set of friends, but this seemed fine to me.

It was just a matter of seconds that Lynn came pulling up in his little black cobra mustang. We all got into Larry's car and headed off to do the only thing to do in town. And that was to drive around and around until we got tired. Then we headed off on a dirt road finally making our way to a place in the woods where we could all sit around and drink beer.

Drinking beer when you are a teen can often be the only thing there is to do, I don't like beer now, and I didn't like it then. It was 1980 in the Ozarks, and that was all there was to do. So as Larry backed his car into the woods we settled in for a night of talking, looking at the stars, and pony Millers the beer of the Midwest teen in the 80s.

It was a breathtaking night. The stars were shining with such a sparkle that it felt like magic. Maybe there was some magic in the air, I don't know but as strange or impossible that it might sound I fell in love with Lynn.

There in the dark woods under the stars as we talked and walked down paths I fell in love. And remarkably he did too, it was a miracle or fate. I'm not sure,
My life would change and never be the same.I had someone that made me feel good that made me want to be a part of the world, and it was an incredible feeling.

When someone hears of that night we drove out into the woods, they always think it for us to do far more than talk. And even though circumstances caused rumors to spread, we didn't do anything but talk.

Those stories came from the fact that my work uniform which had been in Larry's car, ended up being dragged out of the car in the dark and left lying in the woods. So when a young boy found it, he took that uniform back to my work (it had my name on it) to leave it with my boss. So well I guess it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what happened next.

Once, the night was over Lynn followed us back to Larry's house and stayed till the early morning as we held hands and watched a movie. He was so sweet and wouldn't even kiss me when he left.

That shyness is still there under the surface 36 years later.

Our first official date happened the day after our starry night in the woods.

June 6, 1980, seems like it was just yesterday. Then, I look at the time on the calendar to realize it was 36 years ago. Lynn didn't stay away from Larry's house long that morning after he finally did go home. But it was just to shower and change clothes.

When he got back, the two of us joined Larry and his wife plus another couple. Hitting the highway, we headed to Mountain Home and the lake. It was a gloriously sunny day, and I felt alive. Alive.

We rode go-carts and got asked to leave because we were too rowdy in the owners words.

Then our little group was asked to leave Pizza Hut because we were laughing so loud. Looking back I laugh to myself because the reality was that we were a bunch of punk kids just having fun. We didn't hurt anyone; we just had fun..

That was the first day of the rest of my life. Lynn and I had a connection. One that is stronger today than ever, one that has protected us on this journey through life.

And it all started that long ago night in June of 1980.

Who am I? We're All Mad Here So Let's Try To Just Live, Love, and Most Importantly LAUGH!!!

 Hello, my name is Terry. Friends call me Red. Some call me other things, but that is an entirely different story. LOL

Who am I? It was a simpler time, a quieter time, the Ozarks in 1962. A small town and a small house. No one minded, no one remembered the little black and white tv or only having two channels. At least, we had Captain Kangaroo and Aunt Norma. It was where my story began.

When I was born, I was so tiny that Daddy held me in the palm of his hand. I will always remember his hands. They were so big and vigorous. I would sit for hours holding his thumb, just rubbing the nail because it made me feel safe.

One of the funniest things is that I have no idea what my phone number is today, but the one from this period in my life I will never forget. 256-2318. It might as well be Jenny's number.

                                                                       
Recently, I have been asked a few times if I was okay. People have accused me of being mad at the world and other things. When my truth, actually is a far different thing.
I suffer from Bipolar Disorder, severe panic disorder, fibromyalgia, chronic pain, just to name a couple. My point is that there are times I can slip into a deep dark depression.
Why you may be asking? Well, depression is something that just happens, there is often no reason whatsoever. It is just a fact. Does that make me angry at the world? NO NO NO!!!
Where should I begin today's thoughts? Probably with the basic Who am I?

I am so not an angry person. I love to laugh, not just a little giggle, but I love to laugh so hard it makes me snort. Which in turn makes me laugh harder.
If things don't go right during a shopping trip, that brings out my laughter more of a defense mechanism than humor. I laugh, if someone jumps in front of me in a line, I laugh, and it isn't fake laughter. I truly mean it.
Those people who fight, fuss and cuss over such trivial things just make me sad. Because if they could only learn the valuable lesson: If that is the worst thing to happen to them in a day, wow then life is good. Karma has a way of sneaking up and biting you in the butt whenever you think things can't get worse.


So as people see me talk about depression, Bipolar Disorder, Panic attacks, darkness, feelings of being alone, sadness, and all the other aspects of dealing with this mental illness. This disease is nothing I can just stop doing, I get sad for absolutely no reason, crying about EVERYTHING seriously about everything, and when I get mad... well it would be best if I didn't get upset.

There are still those who just want me to get over it and stop being angry or depression or whatever I might be at the time. To those uninformed and at times ignorant people, I will try to explain. For me, this illness is as if I am hanging off a cliff by the very tips of my fingertips.




And that grip is what helps me more than anything. As long as I know that my grip could give way on this slippery slope of sanity and reality, then I am okay. I hold on tighter and keep reminding myself that it is all a gift. Then I am fine, and the world moves on for me. Does that make me angry? No. Does it make me sad? No.
It empowers me. I am in control, and I despise being out of control.





My life is great. I love my family. I love life. I am emotional, I am opinionated, fear being around people, but I am not afraid, I no longer worry about not sleeping, I just live, I stay busy, and I just allow my emotions and moods to be what they are. I cope, and I turn all the moods into creativity. From my art to my writing I allow all of it to flow wherever it wishes to go.

Self portrait of my eye. Maybe the eye to my soul, who knows.

Live, Love, Laugh and then Laugh some more. Because there will always be more tears for all the people, who suffer Bipolar Disorder, depression, and the countless other mental problems.