Hello. My Name Is Jack. I Have A Mental Illness. Chapter Two.

Surely, you didn't think this was a one-off...did you??

A while back, I wrote about my lifelong struggle with depression. I’m not going to rehash the details here, but if you’re interested and want to start the story from the beginning, there it is.

I felt moved to write this when, earlier this morning, I had an epiphany as I was standing in line at my favorite patisserie and waiting for my emotional support latte. I realized that I was aware of feeling good for the first time in quite some time. Not just because nothing is sore or hurts, but because, at my age, everything hurts in the morning (too many years of contact sports). No, it was the sense that the unbearable lightness of being (apologies to Milan Kundera) was now bearable…and it WAS light.

For most of the past year, perhaps longer, life has felt very heavy and dark. I’ve felt as if I’ve been dragging a metaphorical anchor behind me. No matter what I did or where I went, it was always there. It made it difficult to enjoy being around people I know who love and care about me.

This morning, though, I felt none of that, and I realized that I hadn’t for quite some time. So I’m back to kidding with people again and feeling comfortable being a smartass with people I know. No one will ever accuse me of being an extrovert, but when I’m feeling confident, I know I can hold my own. That’s something I haven’t felt for…well, since I can’t remember when. It’s been a long time.

Part of getting me to where I am has been working with my doctor to get me on an antidepressant that works for me. It’s been frustrating because, as anyone who’s traveled this road knows, many antidepressants have substantial sexual side effects. They can impact the hydraulics and make getting and maintaining an erection difficult and often impossible. That can be…frustrating.

Finding the antidepressant that will work for an individual involves a trial that resembles trying to nail Jell-O to a wall. It’s often a process of elimination until you stumble across something that does the trick. But, then, you have to hope it doesn’t short-circuit your sex life.

It can be a trade-off, and the relative importance of sexual side effects may depend on your age. I’ve been on Venlafaxine for a few months now, and it appears to be the proverbial finger in the dike. Unfortunately, it comes with the “may have sexual side effects” warning, which has turned out to be true.

The side effects aren’t as bad as some medications I’ve been on, which have rendered my poor little trooper hors de combat, but it’s still frustrating because I’m not ready to be done with that part of my life. Still, I turn 62 on Monday, so the question becomes one of balance and what’s more important- my mental health or my ability to engage in the horizontal mambo when the band strikes up?

Side effects aside, it’s good to be in a place where life feels light again. I can legitimately enjoy a night out with my wife again. Life doesn’t feel burdensome. I feel as if I can participate without having to drag myself along.

I can more effectively deal with the reality that life isn’t just fairways and greens. Sometimes there are sand traps and water hazards. Sometimes shit happens, and you lose your ball in the woods. That’s OK; there’s always the next shot, which is the most important one. It’s the only one about which you can do anything. You can’t change the past, and you can’t know the future. All you have is this moment, right here and right now. What you do with this moment is essential because all those moments eventually add up to a life.

So, yeah, I’ll wake up Monday morning and realize that it’s my birthday. Then I’ll look at myself in the mirror and wonder, “HOW THE F**K DID THAT HAPPEN?”

Then again, it certainly beats the alternative, eh?

Life IS good. It’s just taken me a long time to get to a place where I can remind myself of that. So here’s to hoping I can keep that front of mind for a while.

Thank you for taking the time to read this. North Stars and Cowboy Bars is a reader-supported newsletter and a wholly-owned subsidiary of WTF Industries. I hope you’ll take a few seconds to join the party and support my work via a paid subscription. While you’re at it, why not forward this to a few like-minded friends who might enjoy it!! You can also donate via Venmo (@Jack-Cluth).