It’s not that I ever dismissed him. In my line of work you often see people at their lowest. I’ve always known he was real. I’ve always known he was dangerous and sneaky and powerful. But, if I ever had a brush with him personally, the meeting was brief and unspectacular.
Until he grabbed me.
A down day bled into a down week. A down week morphed into a miserable month. Seemingly in the blink of an eye, I was waking up every morning feeling… heavy. I felt like a hot, wet blanket was draped over my shoulders twenty-four hours a day.
Of course, I had experience with “ruts”. I had dealt with my share of bad news, work stress, life stress. I had my little tricks, head games and gimmicks that I used to pull myself out of my bad moods.
None of them were working this time. I didn’t want to write. I didn’t want to exercise. I didn’t want to play video games, watch T.V., play with my kids, work, eat, or talk to my wife. All I wanted to do was sleep. All I wanted to do was go to bed and hope that tomorrow was better. It wasn’t.
The scariest part about the whole thing? I couldn’t point to the reason. There was no tragic event. There were no major changes to our routine or lives. Everything was going O.K. But I was in bad shape and getting worse. That scared the hell out of me.
Finally, I asked for help. It wasn’t an easy thing to do, believe me. But I have met the infamous Mr. “D”, and I don’t like that sucker one bit.