Trying to Feel Normal Again

Today, I heard a song by Ben Rector that, as songs tend to do from time to time, resonated with me as it spoke to some of the depression I have struggled with on a daily basis.  The song is called "When a Heart Breaks," and while it sounds like a it might be about a broken relationship and love, when I listened to the song carefully, it's about a little more than that. In fact, without speaking to the artist himself, I'm pretty sure the song is about the bigger struggles in life, the ones that are life changing and sudden.  The ones that make you trule re-evaluate life.

The start of the song is somewhat expected: he speaks of waking up and receiving heartbreaking news, but it's the second verse that struck a chord with me:

I heard the doctor
But what did he say
I knew I was fine about this time yesterday
I don't need answers
I just need some peace
I just need someone who could help me get some sleep
Who could help me get some sleep

The world definitely gets the volume turned down and all the little things that you were petty about leading up to a moment that changed your life, such as a life changing diagnosis from your doctor. That is something you can never be prepared for. And you wake up the next morning thinking, for a second, was it all a dream? But you know it wasn't. And all you want to do is sleep. Forever.

These days, my friends and family rarely see me, rarely call me, rarely contact me.  In fact, I can hardly remember that last time any of my "best" friends called me to shoot the shit or ask how I was doing. Nearly every time we have seen or spoken in the past few years has been initiated by me, and I have no problem with that.  But now that I'm in a bit of a depression, it would be nice to have them come around unexpectedly, or call to check up.  But they never do. And it does break my heart.

When we do talk, specifically about my azoospermic condition, most of the time, my friends and family are saying how bad they feel for me, how they wish they could do something. Sometimes, I wish I could respond "how come you guys all sound like a hallmark card for people in the hospital?" I know people are busy, but it would be nice to hear something from someone that, like Ben Rector said - would help me sleep a little better. I guess it'd just be nice to know that someone actually tried to put themselves in my shoes. Not just a fleeting thought, but a real try. But that's not even the best thing they could do.

I remember one time when I was getting punished by my father for something I did, my dog at the time (she was a german shepard-labrador mix) kept sitting next to me. I pushed her away, and then she came back. I yelled at her, moved away from her, and pushed her again and again.  But she was relentless and eventually I put my arm around her and I felt a lot better.  My friend C had similar perseverance when dealing with my depression and hibernating status.  I realize more and more how much my friend C (mentioned before in this blog) really came through for me. As much as I told him not to show up, and as much as I didn't want to go out and see him or anyone else, he'd swing by even if it was only to hang out in my living room. He didn't press any issues, he didn't ask me anything. He would disguise the encounter with saying "let's just get something to eat real quick." And when we did talk about some of the difficult things that I was going through, he just listened. I mean really listened, and responded with genuine responses, not just random statements of positivity or condolences. It was simple, but it made all the difference.

I guess I thought I could just crawl into a lonely hibernation and avoid contact. I was wrong. Depression, guilt, and overall confusion just kept getting worse.  But with the help of my wife and C, and a few other people - it was nice to see that the world was in fact still in tact. That I could still find my way back to being a bit more normal and possibly my old self again.  I have wonderful friends and family, and I know this post reads as if I am angry at them.  I just have always held my friends (especially) to a high standard. One that I thought I could always count on, one that I thought would show how good of friends and how strong a friendship I had with them.  One that I probably don't uphold myself, as much as I try to.  But that was just me being unrealistic. They are just people, good people - with busy lives and too many things to think about. And that's okay. I guess like a little kid, I was just very disappointed, and still am till this day.

The Ben Rector song finishes with this chorus:

This isn't easy
This isn't clear
And you don't need Jesus
Til you're here
Then confusion and the doubts you had
Up and walk away
They walk away
When a heart breaks

It never is easy, and certainly not clear. And while my heart is certainly broken for my wife, my self, the children we will never have, and for the grandkids and nephews we will never share with our family and friends - I think the confusion and doubts are starting to subside. And I'm happy for that.