Out of Rock Bottom

I was 26 when my pipe-dream of owning a boutique coffee roasting company spiraled into a full-blown reality. Five years of gut blood and mind sweat rewarded me with an incomprehensible wealth of knowledge and "real-world" experience. Now 32, I'm separated from my wife and mother of my two-year-old daughter, unemployed, $250,000 in debt, dating a 21 year-old sex worker and living in the basement of my father's condominium.

Five years of gut blood and mind sweat rewarded me with rock-bottom. Those years, now just a blip of a moment in history, have left me tormented by the memories that filled them and their lack of presence in my current reality.

However, our perception of time is linear, and forward is the only way through it. Our memories, when laced with PTSD and Major Depressive disorder, become our comforting friends that tell us lies and laugh at us when we're not around. The summer,--of which I took three vacations to the local psych hospital-- has faded as the natural order begins its process of reset.

Today marks the day of a new season. Today marks the day that I begin my journey forward. A most prominent lesson to be graced with-- as I sit on my basement couch hours after waking, twiddling my thumbs, waiting for some grandiose opportunity to fall in my lazy, half-naked lap-- is a bit of a cliche´; Never take anyone, or anything for granted. Those who love, support, cheerlead, mentor, or play any other positive role in your life may one day cease to exist within the schema of your reality. They may one day choose to leave you in your depression-laden dust, if you don't get off of your dad's old couch that at some time or another, became basement furniture.

2020 has held many of us captive, and in desperate circumstances. It will be the year of spiritual awakening as mindfulness, self-love, and a slowing of our perceived time take the forefront in how our minds drive our reality.

As I strive to win back the two most precious people in my life, I'll hope that you're reading this, in the thick of your depression and you see some light. Depression has a way of presenting itself as the most exclusive club in the world, while having you as it's only member.