2026-01-22
I received a comment on my guestbook saying I complain too much. At first, I tried justifying it to myself. I tried telling myself, "Well, you know, I do a Chicken Noodle Soup for the Soul—type thing and find silver linings," but then I realized that Norm was correct. So with that, I'm going to try to complain less and write more positive entries. Thanks, Norm.
It's difficult to be positive when I'm depressed. Thankfully, I haven't had a major depressive episode since September, so no real need to be so woeful. A positive thing that happened yesterday: I decided to try a new gym. My regular gym was fine enough. It had all the equipment and amenities I needed. It was also a five-minute drive from my house, which was the best part. Other than that, it was shit. It was crowded, which made it hard to find good parking most days. It also wasn't cleaned well or regularly, so it always felt gross. The bathrooms were especially horrible. A lot of the equipment was in disrepair. Most of the treadmills were broken and getting a good one was a roll of the dice. I also liked to use the sauna, but no one at that godforsaken gym used it correctly.
This new gym, however, was sent to me from heaven. Every little quality-of-life thing I disliked about my current gym was executed perfectly at the new gym. It was luxurious. The locker rooms were clean, and they had complimentary hair dryers, lotion, deodorant, towels, soap—there was even a lounge with couches and a TV. They had a cold plunge, too. It was the coldest body of water I have ever been in. I could barely walk into it. I wanted to dunk my whole body, but it was just too cold. That extremely cold water is a perfect reset for my nervous system and is a wonderful drug-free way to reduce anxiety instantly. The catch, though, is that the membership costs five times that of my current gym. Is it worth the price?
You bet.
I feel excited even just talking about it. I haven't looked forward to anything in a long time, but now I look forward to going there regularly. Of course, the novelty will fade, but I am still immensely thankful for the experience. Over the last few weeks, things seem to be on an upswing. I've also started going back to church, and I feel much more confident about it. I went to a men's group I enjoyed. I'm getting out of the house on a regular basis again and it's wonderful. I was so trapped and isolated by my mental illness for years, and for the first time since my diagnosis, I feel a sense of freedom I didn't think I was going to get back. I feel like I've changed so much; my wisdom has amplified. I've been battle-tested in a way that I never expected myself to be.
I only have the mercy and grace of God to credit for this.
My prayer life is getting richer too. I don't pray a whole lot, but I do about fifteen minutes in the morning and another fifteen at night before bed. It makes me feel pious and whole in a way that I used to think was phony bullshit. Now I understand what it's all about. There are still many things that aren't all the way right, but that's part of the contract we sign every morning; it's something we all contend with. We have to deal with a multitude of variables all at once, but we can only focus on one at a time. It's a tough thing to accept, but I've found you can only build a house one brick at a time. It felt like I had nothing, but I've worked every day towards figuring out a life I can live with and it feels like I'm getting closer to it each day. Even if it's a slow crawl, I still cover distance every day. I feel Andy Dusfrene picking those walls bit by bit.
If I'm lucky, I'll have my moment of redemption.