Nowhere America: Melancholy

Melancholy

 “ I wanted so badly,
 Somebody other than me
 Staring back at me
 But you were gone.....gone....gone.....”

       ----- Time and Time Again
        Counting Crows

 I sip my coffee as I sit at the bay window and watch the rain; a seemingly monsoon like downpour coming down almost sideways beneath a dark and ominous sky.  The branches of the trees in my front yard bend, a few snap, as the wind blows and screeches unmercifully.


Occasionally the darkness is interrupted by a quick, bright, flash of lightning.  But, for the most part, it is just a dark and dreary day.


 Tripper, my beagle my adorable dumb ass, my gift from Kenny, lies on his pillow and snoozes.  Normally he's outside as soon as the sun comes up and only comes in when it starts getting dark.  But not today; he wants no part of the rain and, quite frankly, neither do I.

 On a side note I’m actually happy to see Tripper inside.  That means that, at least for today, this deranged, bug eyed mutt won’t be bringing home any carcasses and attempting to hide them throughout the house.


 He seems to have an affinity (perhaps the word “affinity” is not being used in its proper context but it is what keeps popping into my head) for rabbits as it seems that nine times out of ten that is what I find under the couch, tucked behind the trash can, left in the bath tub, or tucked under a pillow that he pulled down off the bed.  (That pillow is his now.)


 Finding a mangled carcass will scare the shit out of you the first few times you stumble upon it.  Now, however, it just seems part of the daily routine. How sad is that?  I tried to break him of it but gave up when I realized that he seriously thinks that he is doing the world some good. So who as I to squash his delusional dreams?


 At first, if said carcass was fairly fresh, I would clean it and cook up a meal for him.  But I quickly realized that this was not the best idea since I was only encouraging his behavior.  So I started sharing my meals with him in the hopes that he would give up the hunt.


Spaghetti was a winner as well as hot dogs.  Bacon or sausage with rice is a home run.  Tomato soup?  Not so much.


Yeah, I know.  You shouldn’t ever feed your dog people food.  Whatever…..I tried dog food when I was a kid and it tasted horrible.  It’s no wonder that dogs are always begging for scraps.  But I digress…..


Maybe I should just get rid of the doggy door.....

Nah. It's terribly inconvenient for me but hunting is what makes Tripper happy.....Hunt on my friend.




 Samuel Barber's Adagio for Strings is playing softly from my cd player.; not the best music considering my state of mind. I don't know why I continue to feed the beast, it's almost as if I enjoy being sullen.  When it's dreary outside I react in a dreary way.  On days like today I want to lock the door, pull all the shades, turn off the lights, lay in bed and hope that the outside world will grant me my humble and self-destructive wish to just leave me the hell alone.


 But I’m proud to say (and it’s a silly thing to be proud of) that today I managed to force myself out of bed.  Of course knowing that Kenny is either going to call or show up unannounced makes it a lot easier to motivate myself. Plus it’s summer time and getting out of bed is a lot easier to do in the summer.


 In the winter, when it's dreary and cold and darker longer there are days when it is utterly impossible to drag my deeply rooted ass/brain out from under the covers.  Lacey grew to hate winter.


Depression…..I hate that word.  I hate how it sounds.  I hate what it means.  I hate that I have to grudgingly admit (to no one but myself) that I suffer bouts of it from time to time. 
More than anything I hate the fact that I can look at my own existence and know that my life really is/was/still is pretty good.  I have absolutely no reason to be unhappy – and yet…..


I simply can’t explain why I get this way….There’s no reason for it…..and that is what I hate most of all.


 On those days that I battled my “funk” as Lacey liked to call it I would have loved more than anything to throw my phone away and just be left alone.  No contact with the outside world.  No social interaction of any kind.  But Lacey wouldn't allow it.  Some of the worst ass chewing's I ever got from her was when I refused to answer my phone.


 Lacey......I really miss her.  Kenny keeps insisting that I call her.  I'm still wearing my wedding ring and she still, to the best of my knowledge has yet to file for divorce, but I just can't do it.  She deserves better.  She doesn’t need this albatross hanging around her neck.


Yeah, I know --- broken record.  But when it’s all you can think about…..


 Lacey, by my standards, is an extreme go getter.  She graduated from college in three years with a degree in business and it has always been her goal to latch on to a big company and climb the corporate ladder; to do her part to break the still ever present glass ceiling.  She thrives in that environment, loves to lead and is unafraid to make decisions, popular or no.  She tells it like it is and does not fear confrontation. 


 In other words, she is everything that I am not.....
 
 (Ring)


 Well that didn't take long.


 “Mornin' Kenny.”


 “Mornin.....How are you doin'?


 “Oh, you know, enjoying the sunshine, the birds chirpin' and what not.”


 “Right.  Hey, I'm taking the little man into the big city to get a tile saw, wanna come along?”


 Shit.....No, not really.


 “Oh, I don't know. Is he going to pee in the display toilet again?”


 “That was just a simple potty training misunderstanding.  The people at the store were okay with it after we mopped the floor.  C’mon Kyle, I know you're just going to sit around the house all day.  You need to get out, brother.”


 Yeah, so what?


 “I'm fine Kenny.  You act as if you're on suicide watch.”


 (pause)


 “You’re wallowing…..I'll be by in an hour.  See you then, bro.”  (click)


 Shit.....I guess I shouldn't have said that. Keep making comments like that and I may very well end up with some crotchety old woman in my spare bedroom that Kenny hired to keep an eye on me.  I can just see her now;  crusty, old, moldy smelling dress, pressure socks, black and worn orthopedic shoes, halitosis and a big hairy mole on her lip.....Ugh.....that produced a shudder.


 For all of his toughness Kenny is a worry wart when it comes to his family.  No one believes more in the value of family than Kenny does.  So I guess with me going through tough times, Kirk away at college, and Kasey in the marine corps not sending letters home or calling, it's probably enough to drive Kenny crazy....Well, if he wasn't crazy already.


 He's a good guy.....A bit of a mother hen, but a really good guy. I’m glad he’s on my side.


 I pet Tripper.  The thunder has him visibly shaken.  Every time he tries to fall asleep the low booms from above send his head shooting up and his eyes bugging out.  Poor mutt, I wish there was something I could do for you.


 “Looks like you get the house to yourself for a few hours.  Try not to shit in it, okay?”

 I would really like more than anything to go back to bed.  On days like to today it’s a real fight just to say on my feet.


 Lacey could never understand what was wrong with me.  Hell, I really couldn't either.  I can't understand why I fall into this feeling of hopelessness.


 As I said earlier, the winter time is the absolute worst.  I'm hoping that with the job change, going from night shift to days, and a workout regimen that Kenny has put me on, my outlook on life will improve. 


 There is nothing worse than working night shift over the winter.  It's dark when you get up and go to work.  It's dark when you get off work.  It's dark when you try to sleep; but only because of the heavy curtains you put up to keep the sun out in an attempt to trick your body into thinking that it's supposed to sleep.

 I really honestly believe that's where it, the depression, all started; the lack of sleep.  I could never get more than a couple of hours of sleep when working the night shift.  I got up tired, I worked tired, I came home exhausted, collapsed into bed and fell into a deep sleep --- for about a half an hour.


 Then it's up for another hour as I try to find ways to fall back to sleep.  Read a book, do some housework, listen to classical music.  None of it really works.  I would fall back asleep for an hour and then wake up again.  This scenario would repeat itself over and over until after three hours of sleep out of eight attempted I give up and get up for good.  It looks like it’s going to be a two pot of coffee kind of work day.


 When it comes to depression it's crazy to think about all the different variables that can send you into a mental tailspin.  It could be a sad part in a movie or song that sends you hurdling at warp speed into the deep, dark, abyss.  Sometimes it could just be the tone of someone's voice; the inflection with which they speak.  It could be any number of things in my daily life that went wrong that could set me off.  A burned out tail light, over cooked spaghetti noodles (that would be my fault), or a shattered coffee mug that I mishandled and dropped.  Any one of these trivial matters would absolutely ruin my entire day.  Yes, the world is coming to an end.


   And sometimes, more often than I care to admit, all it takes is just getting out of bed.


 What made the problems inside my head even worse was the fact that Lacey is a social butterfly.  She HAS to get out.  She HAS to socialize. 


 I despised every single company party that she dragged me to.  Depression is one thing (by the way, I have never been to a Dr. and have not be officially diagnosed but I'm not an idiot), add being a little bit of an introvert on top of that and you get one hell of a mess.


 I can't think of a more uncomfortable situation than to be stuck in a room with people that I don't know and be forced to talk to them.  Even with people that I do know I don't find small talk that simple. 


 I remember Lacey and I would fight all week over whether or not I really had to go to this god forsaken event.  Lacey would tell me that it would not reflect well on her if no one in her company knew who her husband was. 


 First, why should they even give a shit? And, second, I don't know that Lacey even realized that I had never once taken her to any of my company parties......Mostly because I didn't tell her about them.  I'm sure she would have made me go had she known.


 Lacey was always talking about “building your social network”, she almost obsessed over it.  She hobnobbed and collected business cards the same way I used to collect baseball cards as a kid.


 “C'mon.....There's going to be an open bar there,” she said, “You can get a few drinks to loosen you up.”


          That ----  is a bad, bad idea......An incredibly bad idea.


 Booze, or liquid courage as some like to call it, is definitely a great way to relax you and make you the person your really aren't (or maybe are in some cases) but I have found that the repercussions simply aren't worth it.


 The end result of a few hours of alcohol produced confidence is an entire next day of fatigue and irritability which, unfortunately, Lacey had to deal with.


 I do know that beer is okay as far as the next day.  With beer I'm a little tired, slightly crabby.  But with a cup of coffee I can get going again.


 Hard liquor, on the other hand, is an absolute no-no.  That just takes hatred of life and self-loathing to a whole new level....Whiskey, by far, is the worst.


 Needless to say, my marriage was falling apart.  Lacey tried like hell to keep me positive but I just couldn't fight it.  She once suggested marriage counseling and nearly got her head bitten off.


 We didn't need marriage counseling. I needed marriage counseling.  There is and never was anything wrong with Lacey.  I love her more than I can possibly express.  The problem wasn't US, it was ME....and I knew it.


 Despite this obvious knowledge I didn't want to see a doctor.  I didn't want to see a psychiatrist.  In my family the men are men, dammit.  No man would ever do a weak sissy boy thing like go to a doctor.  I had to fix this on my own.  I knew what had to be done. (Male bravado can be nothing short of moronic at times)


 Telling Lacey I had to leave was the hardest thing that I had ever had to do.  I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.  But I simply couldn't ask her to put up with a mess like me.  It was way too much to expect of her.  For her own good I needed to leave.


 She was crying and screaming at me.  She threw her wedding ring at me and told me that she never wanted to see me again.  That all I ever really did was hold her back anyway.........An assertion I simply couldn't deny and the one comment that keeps me from calling her.  I love her --- but I refuse to hold her back.  I have most likely been burned in effigy and she has moved on with her life.  It’s for the best that I’m not around to complicate things.


 Her ring is sitting on a mantle below our wedding picture that I have hanging in my front room; and I'm still wearing mine.  It will never happen but part of me hangs on to the hope that maybe someday I can go back to her. Not just go but go back to her but go back to her as a much better man.  The man that she thought she was getting when she married me.


 Her ring fits perfectly on my pinkie.  It's a small, simple diamond.  Not a ring that is befitting of someone like Lacey but more accurately befitting of my stature in life.  But Lacey didn't care.  It came from me, she said, and so it was perfect.


 I miss her.  I miss the smell of her perfume.  I miss the sound of her bare feet walking across the wood floor.  I miss.......everything about her.


 But, honestly, who am I kidding?  What exactly did she get out of being married to me?  In her family of doctors, engineers, IT experts, and therapists I simply didn't fit in.  I came from a family of factory workers and was all too aware from day one that I was way out of my class.  After the dust settles and Lacey regains her composure I'm sure she will meet a nice upper class guy, rebuild her life and put her past --- put me --- behind her.


 “So are you going to stand there and look at that ring all day?”


 “JESUS CHRIST!!!”, I spill my coffee all over my shirt.  It burns us, precious.....aaahhhh!!!


“Dammit, Kenny, don't you know what a door bell is?”


 “Yeah, you don't have one.”  Kenny says with a shit eating grin, “Might want to change your shirt.  It looks a little filthy.”


 “Yeah, I'll get right on that.”


 “Hi, Uncle Kyle.”


 I pat Kris who, unlike is dad, is a mellow three year old, on the head,  “What's up, little man?  You know your dad is a dork right?”


 Kris smiles and nods, “Uh-huh.”


 “Is there anything you want to do while we are out?” asks Kenny.


 “Nah, I'm just along for the ride.  As soon as I change my shirt I’ll be ready.”


 “Alright, let's go.”


 The truck pulls out of the drive.  But then at the end of the driveway I remember something and tell Kenny to stop.


 “What did you forget?” he asks.


 “I gotta turn the coffee pot off.” I lied.


 I run into the house and make my way into the living room.  I take Lacey's wedding ring off my pinkie and put it back on the mantle just below our wedding picture.


I made a terrible mistake leaving her……..


 Quietly, I go back to the truck.......It's probably a good thing that I'm leaving the house today.