Dark Blue is not my Favourite Colour

Not every blog I post has to be funny, I reminded myself as I typed.

I went for a drive into town, then a seven kilometre walk, accompanied by my iPod. Through it all I was deeply melancholy – the wretchedness you feel when you fixate on your past and realise just how crappy you were. It was triggered by a conversation about my soon-to-be ex-wife, who I heard was very sad. “I never wanted her to be sad,” I said. “I just wanted her to move forward and find happiness with someone else.” The irony was not lost on me.

As I walked glumly from block to block, to a despondent soundtrack (why is it that when you’re down only unhappy songs play? My iPod appeared to be sensing my mood and saying “hey, this next one will make you feel even worse than the last”, like some sadistic, lonely hearts DJ). As I visited book shops and coffee houses on my own, I longed for company. One of my best mates lived nearby, but I didn’t want to lay my troubles at his door.

My despair was only reinforced by every couple I saw. I found myself missing my wife profoundly, knowing that I shouldn’t, that our break was irreconcilable. She hadn’t responded to my conciliatory email attempt. Some pain was too great to dismiss.

There was a time when I loved shopping (yes, you heard right – a guy who likes shopping) and I knew the only reason I enjoyed it so much was because of the people I shared the experience with. I liked to buy gifts for those I loved, not because I was trying to purchase their affection, but because making them happy made me happy.

When I got home I was relieved, because I knew I had people there, and if I stayed by myself much longer my thoughts would drift to “unpleasant personal endings” (been there, tried that, luckily didn’t succeed, let’s move on).

I’ve suffered from depression most of my life. I’ve done the anti-depressants thing, been to therapy (still in it, thanks), tried the self-help books. The Good Book always inspires. But the best solution for me was always having someone to care for, someone to share with, someone to love. I know God challenges us every day, and these trials are seasons we endure, seasons that eventually pass (even if they sometimes last years). Alas, that doesn’t make me feel better.

I know my wife will never read this, never know just how sorry I am, how sad I am that I hurt her. Maybe it’s better that way.

In many ways, this blog is my catharsis. It’s a place where I can live a somewhat humorous alternative life, an escape from my pervasive dark blues.

But not every blog I post has to be funny.

(Three million Australians live with depression or anxiety every day. beyondblue provides information and support to help Australians achieve their best possible mental health. https://www.beyondblue.org.au/)

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