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silentstardb · 6 years ago

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“Avengers: Endgame” review ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

So it’s been a week. I’ve held off on spoilers for this movie, and I have so many thoughts, and I’m ready to try and tackle this epic. Settle in.

***OBLIGATORY SPOILER ALERT***

Where to start?

Let’s start with my favorite moments from the film, then get into some more in-depth commentary.

- Cap wields Mjolnir, paying off the tease we got of it from “Age of Ultron.”

- “Avengers ... assemble.”

- Tony teaching Nebula to play paper football while they are stranded in space.

- Rocket and Nebula sharing a quick moment of shared grief over the loss of their comrades and family. Sitting together on the steps of the ship. Rocket puts his paw on Nebula’s knee, and she takes it. Just like Drax comforted him in “Guardians” after the death of Groot.

- Cap running a support group for grieving survivors of the “Snapture.”

- Tony’s scenes with his daughter Morgan. So sweet.

- Professor Hulk.

- Natasha becoming the de facto team leader. Her scene at the compound where Rhodey talks to her about Clint, the intense anguish on her face as she tries desperately just to hold things together. It was understated, but so well done.

- Valkyrie’s return and becoming queen of New Asgard. A nice payoff of her character. Also the return of Korg and Miek, two favorites from “Thor: Ragnarok.”

- Tony’s conversation with Howard in 1970 where each of them discuss how being a parent is totally overwhelming and yet rewarding at the same time.

- Thor’s pep talk with his mother. Didn’t realize how much I needed that.

- The final battle with Thanos was the epitome of win. Eye candy everywhere, every hero and heroine you can think of taking part in the battle, everyone gets a moment to shine, the pacing is exquisite, the scale is incredible. It delivers everything I could have wanted from the third act.

- Tony’s death was handled perfectly.

- The whole funeral scene.

- Steve passing the mantle of Cap on to Sam. Yes!

- Steve and Peggy finally get their date.

Okay, some deeper thoughts:

The theme of this movie was about recovery. Facing loss and tragedy and how it affects you. Either you bear up against it and try to help others (Cap) or you become hard and lash out from it (Hawkeye) or you let it consume you to the point where you no longer recognize yourself (Thor). But one way or another, the characters in this movie dealt with pain and loss, and this was about how each of them dealt with it. Many of them triumphed over it and became better. A few didn’t, as we saw with Past Nebula, who had become so bitter over her treatment by Thanos that she wouldn’t allow Past Gamora and her future self to help her. A very tragic end to her character.

I teared up at Tony’s death. Much as I hated to see it, Tony has been cheating death ever since we met him back in “Iron Man” when he escaped captivity from terrorists & a shrapnel bomb that pierced his heart. Much as he is derided publicly for being self centered and an egotist (even though he is those things), he’s also a self sacrificing hero. Despite his wealth, fame, power, and resources, Tony would willingly put his own life on the line to help others, and he has on multiple occasions. He faced a battle he knew he couldn’t walk away from, but he did it anyway, not caring what happened. Kudos to Robert Downey, Jr. He turned in probably his best performance as Tony Stark, and that’s saying something.

Many weren’t sure about Thor’s storyarc in this film. But it made total sense to me. Consider what this hero has been through in the span of a couple films. He’s lost both his parents, his comrades (Warriors 3), his home to Surter, his best weapon, his brother, he couldn’t stop Hela despite his new power, he wasn’t able to kill Thanos before he wiped out half the life in the universe, and he was too late to undo it all. God or no god, that is enough to destroy a person. Thor has been through A LOT since “Ragnarok.” If anyone has an excuse to not be at the peak of their form, it’s him. But in the end, he came through for his team and proved himself still worthy to fight alongside them. Very much looking forward to Thor joining the Guardians of the Galaxy. That feels like a natural fit for him in ways the Avengers never really did.

Natasha’s demise. Okay. It made sense for her, but I hated it. I kept thinking that Clint would be the one to make the jump for the Soul Stone, but in the end, he had a family to go back to. She had no one - save the team itself (and maybe SHIELD, but who knows what state that’s in right now). But still, Natasha was in a lot of ways the soul of the team. She went thru the psychological torture of her childhood that we glimpsed in “Age of Ultron.” Trained to be an assasin and a murderer. Found redemption and fought in the service of gods and heroes. She certainly wiped out the red in her ledger.

The time travel aspect of the story had so much potential to be headache inducing and distracting. But amazingly, the Russos pulled it through mostly intact. We got some great callbacks to classic scenes from movies past, some hilarious one liners and jokes (for being such a dark movie, there is some great humor in Endgame). I followed most of what was going on, and they made a concerted effort to stick to the rules they laid down while still not telling us everything that happened.

Paul Rudd as Ant Man brought great levity to the film. His comedic timing is almost on par with Robert’s, and it was very welcome in the face of crushing loss near the beginning of the film. But he can do the serious stuff just fine as well, as with the scene of him reuniting with his daughter Cassie, five years older.

Thanos felt more like a standard bad guy in this film. Ordinarily, that might have bothered me, but we had “Infinity War” already to set up his character, so I was all right with that. Considering how unstoppable he seemed with the Infinity Gauntlet in “Infinity War,” I found it interesting that he was able to hold his own against a whole army of superheroes without the gauntlet in “Endgame.” But that’s no big deal.

Cap vs. Thanos. I read the Infinity Gauntlet comics, so I was waiting for this battle. And it delivered. That was probably my favorite scene as Cap is my favorite Marvel hero. Wielding Mjolnir, he got his minute to look good knocking the mad titan around & blasting him with the lightning. Even though I knew he wasn’t going to win, that was personally satisfying to watch. I’m a sucker for the underdog. Seeing Thanos come back, shatter Cap’s shield, and just beat the crap out of him, I thought that would be the end for Steve. Thank goodness it wasn’t. The image of him pulling himself to his feet and walking, staggering, forward in the face of Thanos and his massive army. What a great scene.

Of course, the heroes returning was a really cool moment. The return of the “on your left” line from “Winter Soldier” was a great segue into that scene. Every time a character appeared from a time portal, the audience erupted in cheers. Really takes you back to being a little kid and seeing your heroes show up in the nick of time to save the day when all seems lost. The music in that scene was just awesome.

I didn’t come away with the best impression of Carol Danvers as Captain Marvel in her movie, and this movie didn’t do a whole lot to change my view of her. She seemed a little wasted, to be honest. Don’t get me wrong; she’s a fine character, just not a standout.

This movie reminded me a lot of “Return of the King” in that it had a few endings piled on top of each other. The funeral. Tony’s last message to Pepper and Morgan. Clint and Wanda’s last scene. Thor and Valkyrie. Old Man Cap. I didn’t mind, though.

So all in all, “Endgame” stuck the landing. It delivered an epic finish to the Infinity Stones storyarc. Was it perfect? No. But it was perfectly satisfying. And that’s all I wanted.

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silentstardb · 6 years ago

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Just Another Race?

This Saturday, I will run the TD Bank Reedy River 10K race in beautiful downtown Greenville. I’ve run this race at least two or three times before in my life. So you might see it as just another race. In some ways, it is, but for me, it’s something more.

I haven’t run an organized race in a long time. In fact, this Saturday will mark exactly a year to the date of my last race - an impromptu 5K race I ran with my Strides Club kids. I didn’t originally plan to do it, but I wanted to be with them on the course.

In my haste to prepare them for the race, I neglected to do much training of my own. I ran that 5K on sheer gut and adrenaline. I was wheezing by the time the finish line came into view. I didn’t pay attention to the time because that’s not why I was there. This was for my kids. This was their moment. But even so, I felt a little disappointed in myself. I’d run dozens of 5Ks in my life, but this was the first one that I walked away from feeling disappointed. It didn’t come until later as I enjoyed the day for my kids.

And it was about more than the result of that race. Before and during the onset of my depression, my attitude about running shifted. It wasn’t all at once. It happened gradually without me noticing it until later. Running wasn’t the physical and mental release that I loved any longer. It had become a chore for me, just another thing I had to somehow pack into a day filled with other obligations. That’s no way to truly enjoy anything. The minute it becomes an obligation, it’s no longer fun. Running became something I just did, but I wasn’t getting any thrill or joy out of it anymore.

Depression does that to you. It robs you of the things that bring you joy and comfort. It’s part of how your brain is poisoned by this disease. Even the activities that can help relieve your pain, it tries to keep you from doing them. That’s how it was with running.

It took months before I could look at a race again. A 5K wouldn’t do it for me. I needed a challenge. I had to push myself again. A 10K was perfect.

But it was after Christmas and New Year’s. I hadn’t done any real running in… weeks. It hurts to admit that. My legs had gotten soft. The physical memory had faded. It would take a good while to recondition myself to run a race. But again, it was more than the physical part. If I didn’t clear the mental hurdle that had sprung up between me and running, I wouldn’t make it to the starting line. Not as the runner I knew.

The Reedy River Run fee was paid for by my family as a birthday present. I didn’t wait. I started running and training again back in January. The early runs were tough. It was like my mind knew what to do, but my body had forgotten. Tired? But I’ve only run 15 laps!

I got into February and had to push through a few really rough runs. This was when the mental part of the training really hit. I had to fight the urge to stop running when my mind thought I’d had enough. I’d get pricks telling me “what’s the point? It’s just another race. You’ve run so many. Why even try?”

About the time March came around, I experienced a turning point. I can’t explain it exactly, but something changed. Maybe God broke through to me. No, I take that back. That’s definitely what happened. God got through and reminded me of the joy of running. The sun on my face. The wind in my ears. The pounding of feet on the ground. The sense of balance in my heart in feeling like all was right with the world. It was just like I felt when I first started running.

Little by little, my endurance began to come back. And I could feel it in my legs. My runs got faster. My rhythm and cadence got steadier. I began to feel like my old self again.

Hebrews 12:1-2 says “let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith.” I’ve loved this verse since I first began marathon training. It’s been a mantra for me, a reminder of what it’s all really about: the gift Jesus gave us, the gift of salvation. That is bigger than any race will ever be. Life itself is its own marathon, full of hope and joy, but also traps and pratfalls. But Isaiah 58:8 says “the glory of the Lord is my rear guard. I will call, and He will answer. I will cry for help, and He will say, ‘Here am I.’”

So no, this isn’t just another race. It’s more. This is personal. It’s a reminder of who Jesus is to me. It’s a reminder of the joy I once felt running, how close it made me feel to God, and how I’m striving to regain that feeling. I can’t wait to run. I haven’t been able to say that in a long while. It’s a good feeling.

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silentstardb · 6 years ago

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Just Another Race?

It took months before I could look at a race again. A 5K wouldn’t do it for me. I needed a challenge. I had to push myself again. A 10K was perfect.

But it was after Christmas and New Year’s. I hadn’t done any real running in... weeks. It hurts to admit that. My legs had gotten soft. The physical memory had faded. It would take a good while to recondition myself to run a race. But again, it was more than the physical part. If I didn’t clear the mental hurdle that had sprung up between me and running, I wouldn’t make it to the starting line. Not as the runner I knew.

Little by little, my endurance began to come back. And I could feel it in my legs. My runs got faster. My rhythm and cadence got steadier. I began to feel like my old self again.

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silentstardb · 7 years ago

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I Miss Running

So why don’t you go and run, you ask? Easy enough to fix, right?

On one hand, you’re correct, of course. All I have to do is throw on some sneakers, step outside, and take a jog down the street. Boom! I’m running. Heck, it’s finally getting cooler now; running outside should be easy. And what’s more, I work at the YMCA. Literally, what’s my excuse?

Well, time, for one. Part of the reason I took on two part time jobs - one in the early morning, one in the afternoon - was so I could have a big block of time in the day to work on my graduate classes for my MLIS. I take two classes, and both are reading intensive, so it’s not always easy to wall off a chunk of time to go running even on the rare occasions when I can get ahead on my class work (and those are very rare).

Another is - and I really, really hate to admit this - motivation.

I still haven’t found my drive to run again the way I used to. Used to be, I’d pack an extra t-shirt, shorts and/or sweats and take them to work with me just so I wouldn’t miss a workout. Or you’d find me at the Y on a Friday of all evenings running the indoor track. And yeah, I trained for 2 marathons, not to mention 5 half marathons. That commitment speaks for itself.

But the thing is, I wanted to run then. I felt like my day wasn’t complete if I didn’t run. If I didn’t get that physical outlet, relieve my stress, feel the sun on my face, the pounding of the pavement, the wind at my back, I’d feel like something was missing. The most exciting feeling would come over me at the thought of putting together a new playlist for my long runs, or pretending to race against people on the indoor Y track. They didn’t know it, of course.

So what happened? Depression happened. It took away my desire to run, my desire to do anything that required effort. It began to seem like a chore to me. No longer an activity I wanted to do, but one I did out of obligation, nothing more. And that will only sustain a person for so long.

I haven’t run a race since April of this year, and that was only because I had my kids in Strides Club to motivate me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have run that 5K either. In fact, I remember leaving that race feeling somewhat ashamed that I didn’t do better. I used to eat 5Ks for breakfast. This time, I felt winded halfway through the second mile. I knew why, or course; my conditioning had slipped, and I hadn’t sufficiently trained enough to feel comfortable on the course. But it wasn’t a good feeling.

I vowed to get back into running last month as fall was around the corner. I may live in the South, but I’m my happiest in the cool weather. You might even say I draw energy from the cold. For a week or two, I found times to run. How was it? It felt ... good. I had moments where I felt like I used to. Where I could get into a flow and just let my legs go on autopilot and enjoy the activity.

That was four weeks ago. I haven’t run since.

And I guess what hits me the most is that it doesn’t bother me. Well, I take that back. It bothers me, but not nearly as much as I’d think it would. I have these moments where I’m like “It’s a great day out. Why not throw on your favorite running shirt and shoes and get a nice run in and feel good?” And then I’ll be like “I just don’t have it. I don’t...I can’t...” And then the drive will be gone, and I’ll be off doing something else instead. Maybe classwork, or household chores (not the worst decisions I could make, of course) but something other than running.

On one hand, I know I’m denying my body a chance to heal itself with this physical outlet I used to love so much. But knowing isn’t the same as doing. It’s one thing if my brain knows what’s best for me. It’s another to communicate it to the rest of my body when it feels like I don’t trust myself half the time.

I guess what I’m trying to say is this is another way that depression really, really sucks. I hate feeling as if I’m whining about not having the drive to run, which feels small in the grand scheme of things. But I hate it. It feels like a part of me is numb inside, and I can’t wake it up. At least not yet.

This is just something I’ll have to keep working on. I hope that I’ll find the drive to run again, and maybe sustain it.

UPDATE: I made it to the Y this evening and jogged with my sweet wife. So that’s a step. No pun intended.

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silentstardb · 7 years ago

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What Can You Do?

Ever since I shared my struggle with depression to the public, I have been swarmed with comments and responses. Most of them have been overwhelmingly positive and uplifting, and I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for your compassion and kindness. I have tried to respond to as many as I possibly can.

Probably the most difficult one for me to address is “what can I do?”

In some ways, that question is refreshingly honest. A lot of people assume that they know how to help a person who is depressed. They assume that it’s just a bad mood or a phase, and so they tell you to snap out of it. Cheer up. Think happy thoughts. Look at all you’ve got going for you.

Those people have no clue of the harm they cause.

Depression is not something you “get over.” It’s not a cold or a bad mood. It is a mindset. It is a chemical imbalance. It is not something you can switch on and off once it hits.

When I’m in the midst of a mood drift, it’s like I’m a different person. I feel cut off from the world. Like my body and mind are still functioning, but I’ve been cut adrift from them. My energy spirals down. Just putting a foot in front of the other feels like running the back half of a marathon. I can barely talk. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to be around anyone, even the people I trust most. I don’t want to do anything. Things that would normally bring me joy - don’t. And what makes it worse is being around people when it happens. Because my mind doesn’t work the way it should, I assume bad things about them too. I look at them distrustfully even though I don’t mean to. I feel like they’re thinking ill of me even when they’re not. And in those moments, all I want to do is to get away from wherever I am and just be alone.

That is a difficult thing to live with. And I don’t wish it on anyone.

The good thing is, those feelings don’t last. They do pass. I always worry that this might be the one that I don’t recover from, and that I’ll feel like this forever. But I never do. It’s a disease that I live with, but I can cope with it. I can ride it out. It may defeat me for a short time, but I won’t let it win permanently.

So back to my original point - what can you do?

These are what I’ve found help me the most…

- Realize it’s nothing personal. Please don’t assume you did something to make me depressed. I promise, you didn’t. It’s nothing you did or said that makes me have these mood drifts. They just happen, without warning sometimes. I have a disease in my mind that triggers every so often (I shared a few of the triggers in my last post), and neither you nor I control it.

- Listen. Don’t talk. Just listen. I don’t expect you to “fix me” or have a solution for me. I don’t even want a solution. I want you to listen, to understand. That’s all. It may seem simple, but trust me, it’s the hardest thing to do sometimes. And I’m as guilty as anyone.

- Treat me the same. If you know I’m depressed, it doesn’t mean we can’t still have conversations or do things together, or that you constantly have to walk on eggshells around me, worried that you’ll say or do something to set me off. Like I said, if it happens, it’s not your fault. So don’t treat me with kid gloves or something like that. I’m a teacher. A husband. A soon to be media specialist. A graduate student. An eye for superheroes and comic books. I like country and Christian music. I follow Jesus. I love to read. I have an unhealthy fetish for Mountain Dew. And yes, I have depression. It’s one thing about me, but it’s not the only thing.

- Give me space. Understand that sometimes, I just won’t want to or be able to talk. I’ll have lapses in my energy and my demeanor. The tell tale signs will be there. My wife has told me often enough that she can see right away when I’m drifting, so I trust that you will too. In those moments, I just need to be able to get some distance, to try to re-center myself. And it can take time. Sometimes half an hour. Sometimes an hour. Sometimes longer. But without that space, it’s harder for me to come out of it.

- Trust that I know your advice and well wishes. Let me explain. Sometimes when I drift into depression, I get reminded to talk to someone, to take my meds, or that I’m being prayed for. And I appreciate those thoughts, believe me, I do. Especially the last one. I need as many of those as I can get because this is not a battle I can win without God. Without God, I’m defeated before I can even start. But don’t think that I don’t know those things, or that I forget. Remember it’s possible for someone who is depressed to know he has friends, loved ones, has antidepressants to take, and goes to therapy - and he still suffers from painful bouts with it anyway. All of that doesn’t take away those crippling moments of worthlessness and exhaustion and turmoil. It just makes them a little bit more bearable, offers a light at the end of the tunnel. Trust me, I don’t forget that light is there. It’s just hard to see it sometimes. But I always do. So please know that I haven’t forgotten that I am loved, cared for, prayed over, and saved by God’s Grace. His love is stronger than any disease, and even if I’m not able to feel it in my worst moments, it’s there regardless.

Several of you have urged me to keep writing about my struggle. And I will. Because it’s therapeutic for me in a way. It makes it seem not so bad. But I also hope that others who struggle read it. You are not alone. I hurt with you. I struggle alongside you. I may not know your stories, but I’m here to listen if you want to share. And if you don’t, that’s okay, too. I still hope that you will be encouraged and strengthened by a love that is greater than me, and that you will know the One Who knows our names.

God bless.

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silentstardb · 7 years ago

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What Can You Do?

Probably the most difficult one for me to address is “what can I do?”

Those people have no clue of the harm they cause.

Depression is not something you “get over.” It’s not a cold or a bad mood. It is a mindset. It is a chemical imbalance. It is not something you can switch on and off once it hits.

That is a difficult thing to live with. And I don’t wish it on anyone.

So back to my original point - what can you do?

These are what I’ve found help me the most...

God bless.

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silentstardb · 7 years ago

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The Invader

This is the toughest post I’ve ever written. I’ve been trying to write it for the longest time, but I’ve kept putting it off. I feel like I’m ready to write about it.

I’ll warn you - this is going to be long and rambling, and it’s personal. So ... consider yourself warned.

For the past ten months, I’ve been suffering from situational depression.

Just writing that makes me wince.

Last fall, my emotional state began to change for the worse. It didn’t happen all at once. It came in small steps, so small that I wasn’t really aware at the time that it was happening.

I tired more easily. Things I once enjoyed like running became a chore. Where once I’d look forward to running races, I began to groan at the thought of jogging a couple miles. I’ve always been an introvert, but I was quieter than usual and had moods in which I went for extended periods of time without talking or engaging with other people.

Little things started to irritate me more than usual. It could be something like running low on gas for the car, or waking up later than normal for work, or not getting grades done when I wanted to. Whatever the case, my patience waned dramatically. My fuse was lit way shorter than normal.

Heck, my wife and I took a fall trip to Disney World with a good friend of ours. A place that ordinarily would thrill and excite me, and yet, I had moments where my mood wasn’t good, and I wasn’t able to engage with what was going on. I was literally in the happiest place on Earth, and I had times in which I felt totally disinterested. I rode Space Mountain at the Magic Kingdom, and it did nothing for me. We had a 7-8 hour drive back from Orlando, and the last few hours, I could’ve probably counted how many words I said on one hand.

It was November when things began to come to a head. I felt physically awful - headache, body aches, general lethargy and malaise, and my hands would shake. I didn’t know what was going on, but it was scaring me. So I went to the doctor. Took a survey. Described my symptoms as best I knew how.

Diagnosis? Depression.

I had ... mixed feelings. On one hand, it felt better to have a name to go with this condition. Something to call it. Because once I knew what it was, that meant I could then learn how to treat it, right?

On the other, it shocked me to my core. Depressed? How could this be? With so many good things going on with my life? A beautiful, loving wife. Good home. Supportive family. Great friends, great work colleagues. How in the world could I be depressed?

It changed everything. Everything I thought I knew about myself. My thoughts. My feelings. Everything.

Depression.

On my doctor’s advice, I started taking medication, an antidepressant. This began around Thanksgiving. Usually a happy, pleasant time for me. Not this year.

Within days of starting the medication, my moods got progressively worse. I started having “drifts” in my mood that I couldn’t control. The best I feel I can describe those is it’s like one minute, I feel perfectly normal. Then the next, I literally feel my energy level begin to drop. It becomes harder and harder to talk. Carrying on a conversation feels impossible. And it’s doubly frustrating for me because I’m fully aware it’s happening, and yet I can’t stop it.

Usually it takes up to 1-2 hours for a mood drift to return to normal. 1-2 hours of feeling trapped in a bubble, like my brain is stuck in neutral, and the words won’t come. Like my mouth is full of cotton. Like my body is one stretched sack of lead.

I got these almost every day over Thanksgiving break. I went to every family gathering like everything was normal, but inside, I was a mess.

By the last week of November, I was having cold sweats and more trouble sleeping at night. I would continue to get the shakes. I couldn’t stop them. It was literally like an invader inside me would come out and take over; I felt like something or someone I couldn’t recognize. It grew so bad I had to take an extended leave from work to deal with my condition. I hated to do that to my kids, but there was no way I could be the teacher they needed me to be in that condition. I had to get control over it.

I went back to my doctor and described my newer symptoms. We agreed a change in antidepressants was necessary. It would take at least a week for the old medicine to leave my system and upwards of two to three weeks for the new medicine to kick in.

I started going to counseling. That in itself was a scary thing for an introvert like me. I’m not used to talking about my feelings and being that open with someone I barely knew. And that’s under normal, healthy circumstances. But I also knew I had to do what was necessary to deal with this.

Depression.

Just typing that word. Looking at it. Makes it feel like an invader in my life. An intruder. Frightening. Hurts.

Ten months later, I still struggle with this disease. I have learned more about it. It has made me question everything about myself. The mood drifts don’t come as often; I get them once about every 2-3 weeks or so. One of them happened on a family vacation a couple weeks ago, on the night we celebrated my sister’s birthday. You can’t imagine how miserable I felt at spending that time isolated in a quiet room with an attack of depression. It was the first time my family saw it hit me full force - my wife had seen it enough times by then to more or less know how to respond. I saw the looks of concern and confusion on their faces, and I wished for all the world I could alleviate them, or to fight it off. It hurt.

One thing I’ve earned is that depression can happen to anyone, regardless of your quality of life. It can be the loneliest disease ever. I know I have it, but even with medication, I have moments where it kills my defenses; it’s all I can do to ride it out until it passes.

I also learned that I’m not alone in facing it. I have others in my family that have been through similar situations (nothing I’m going to go into here), and their input has helped me so much. I also have very good friends who have struggled with depression as well that have shared their insights with me. That has been so helpful.

I went back to work and finished out the year. I won’t lie and say that there wasn’t a correlation between the stresses of the job and my condition. I’ve had some for a couple of years now and was frustrated that nothing was changing, but that’s too much to get into here, and this post is long enough already, so I’ll just sum them up the best I can.

It’s tough to know what words to use to express the triggers, but suffice it to say, I got stressed over the things I couldn’t change, or that I had no ability to control. Things like standardized testing, merit based pay, and the changing climate of the job were getting to me. I don’t know exactly why then; they certainly weren’t new concerns. But they were just the same. Maybe it came down to the point where I realized at this particular point in my life, I simply wasn’t strong enough to handle it, and I needed to make a change.

After a lot of thought and conversations with family and loved ones, I decided that this would be my last year as a teacher.

My heart breaks to write that. Makes me feel like a quitter. I love teaching. I love to work with kids. But the bottom line is, the job became something I no longer liked. I needed a change.

Also, I didn’t feel like I was effecting the kind of change I should be. The passion wasn’t there like it used to be. Again, part of me feels like a coward for writing that. The easy thing to do would be to stick it out. But I’ve been doing that for the past couple of years, and I felt like I was spinning my wheels.

It wasn’t a conclusion I came to capriciously. It took a lot of thought, a lot of prayer, and a lot of agonizing over what the right thing was. I had a lot of talks about this with my counselor, and I couldn’t escape the thought that I needed a change.

I needed to return to my purpose for getting into teaching: to make a difference in kids’ lives. I wanted to find a new way to do that.

Which is why I’m now going back to school to get my second Master’s degree to become a middle school librarian/media specialist. I’m working two part time jobs in the meantime.

The antidepressant has helped a great deal, now that I’m finally on the right one. I still have mood drifts, but they happen less frequently than when the disease was at its worst. At the time I told only select people what was going on with me. They were and continue to be amazingly supportive. Their prayers and helpful advice have made such an impact. I can’t thank them enough for that. I felt every bit of it.

I’ve worked on some coping strategies. One of them is a renewed commitment to running. Not for training or just because I feel like I “have” to run. I’m trying to find the old “joy” that I once felt in running, doing it because I want to, because it makes me feel good. It’s been challenging, but I’m getting somewhere. One of my new jobs puts me in direct contact with a health facility. I can get a fresh start and work on my physical health at the same time. I can feel it making a positive difference. I have to catch myself being too hard on myself for not being as up to speed as I want to be, but it’s getting there.

So why am I writing this? Because writing is also an activity I enjoy. It helps me. It relaxes my mind. So it’s also another way I’m dealing with this condition. If I can put it into written words, I can see it for what it is, and I can confront it. Believe me when I say I’m not doing it for attention. Attention is the last thing I want from something like this. The easiest thing to do would be to continue to hide it and pretend like everything is fine.

Why did I wait so long to write this? That’s actually easy to answer. I am only JUST getting to a point at which I feel somewhat okay talking about all this. I’m not yet in total control of my disease, but it’s getting easier to talk about it. Another thing I’ve learned is when you suffer from depression, it’s not good to talk about it in a large forum of people. You are much more likely to misinterpret other people’s words, expressions and such as harmful to you, and it can bring you right back to that place you don’t want to be. I wanted to wait until I felt sure I could write this without losing my nerve, and that I could write about it coherently. At least I hope it’s coherent.

I want my struggle to help others. I want God to use this to reach out to others, to let them know that hope exists. That they are not alone. That they can find help in dealing with their situation as I did. That there’s no shame in asking for help.

If that’s you reading this post, I tell you from the bottom of my heart, you are not alone in this. I have been where you are. In some ways, I still am. It’s frightening, it’s scary, it’s the loneliest feeling you can have. But it doesn’t have to define you. You can be helped. I encourage you to find it. Know that you are worth the effort. You are loved. You are prayed for. You are cared about. I am praying for you as my loved ones and friends have prayed for me and continue to do so.

Thank you for bearing with me and reading this post. My struggle is not over, and I continue to have good days and bad days, but I’m not going to be a victim of this disease. I’m not going to let it define me. I’m going to live my life the best I can and continue to work to overcome it. Any prayers and good thoughts you can offer are greatly appreciated. I mean that.

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silentstardb · 7 years ago

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silentstardb · 7 years ago

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Musings

I haven’t made a random update on life and such in a while. I should probably rectify that:

- I still don’t drink coffee. Purely on principle.

- Our adoption journey continues. We’ve worked thru DSS for the last 1.5-2 years, and we’ve completed all the necessary paperwork, inspections, been cleared by Fire and DHEC (that took two visits - apparently, home that were built in the 1940s had a major issue with lead paint. Go figure), and we became licensed to adopt in December. However, our desire is to have an infant (0-2 years). DSS says our best bet is foster to adopt as its highly unlikely that we’ll get an infant. We understand, but it would’ve been nice to hear all this closer to the beginning of our journey. So we’re looking into a private agency. Still in the process of discussing payment plans. Thanks for the prayers!

- Pick-Six: I’m aware that my schedule with the show broke down about halfway into the season. I’m sorry for being a flake about that. It’s been a hectic last few months, to put it mildly. I’m pondering the future of the show and deciding whether or not I want to continue doing it in the same format, switch over to something different, or just drop the whole thing. It’s very difficult to film a 12-minute “show” as a fun, side hobby alongside my full-time job. I want it to continue to be fun for me - that’s why I started doing it in the first place, particularly the early predictions that were all text-based and posted on my blog - and not something that’s just a chore or an obligation. The minute that happens, it’s time to get out.

- I have some awesome co-workers. Just wanted to mention that. Not that they’ll ever read this, but they deserve a ton of praise.

- It’s a very good time to be a Clemson Tiger fan.

- Who knew predicting major snowstorms could be such a competitive sport?

- Being married will cure you of a lot of things. I think it has successfully cured me of being an early riser.

- I still like to sing. My voice has made an appalling shift more toward baritone, however.

- That moment you dip your feet into a relaxing hot tub, fully anticipating how soothing it will feel, only to recall in a fraction of a second they were sunburned the day before. O_O

- Books I’m currently reading: Managing the Madness by Jack Berckemeyer; Culturize by Jimmy Casas.

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silentstardb · 7 years ago

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Where, oh Where?

Where oh where are the keys to my car?

Are they somewhere near or are they far?

Could they have wandered down the drain,

Or found a friend on the counter pane?

What if they fell in the grass by the house

To be carried off by a a possum or a mouse?

Suppose they got left in the door

Where no one will find them anymore

Except the unsuspecting robber or thief

Who finds his job an unexpected relief.

Where oh where is my phone?

My digital lifeline with the catchy ringtone?

Is it buried deep in the couch cushions?

Is it lost in dust mites and paper pollutions?

Maybe I left it on my desk at work?

But no, that would make my kids go berserk

If they found the phone of a teacher by chance

And played with all the apps at a glance

Serves me right not carrying it in my pocket,

Which I would if I had a way to lock it.

My keys and my phone are made for each other

For each of them seems eager to separate from me.

Maybe if I stopped looking,

They would find me again?

Maybe if I stayed in one place,

And thought my way back,

And wondered aloud,

“Where, oh where?”

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silentstardb · 7 years ago

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Break

Seated on the edge of my seat,

My head drooping,

My eyes fluttering,

My desk a mounting mound of paperwork,

My patience a razor’s edge,

I count the seconds until dismissal.

Pacing on the tips of my toes,

My head swiveling,

My attention diverting,

My class a frazzled fracas of edgy kids,

Their thoughts on next week,

We count the minutes until dismissal.

Racing on the back way to Firehouse,

My stomach growling,

My card clinking,

My bag a collection of teacher lunches,

Our thoughts on the next meal,

We eat the minutes until lunch is over.

Lying on the floor of my reading carpet,

My music droning,

My body relaxing,

My mind a steel trap working to unwind,

My thoughts in transition,

I pause to let the work week go.

Sitting in the sand of a balmy beach,

The breeze caressing,

The ocean freezing,

The season a cross between spring and summer,

But just the right time for me,

I relax for the first time in weeks,

And resolve not to count the seconds

Until I’m seated on the edge again.

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silentstardb · 7 years ago

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No Thanks

I’ve kept quiet on this front for the past week, but when I read the President’s proposed “solution” today, I feel compelled to speak my mind. Please remember, these are my thoughts; I’m not seeking a huge debate on this. It’s just something that hits close to my heart.

I am not in favor of giving teachers guns. I’m not a police officer. I’m a teacher. Shooting a weapon - or even facing the possibility of having to shoot one - is not what I became a teacher to do. I don’t believe violence should be solved with more violence (or at very least, it should be a last resort, not the first) or that the best way to stop a killer is to become one.

Before I go any further, let me say that I have the utmost respect for the brave men and women of law enforcement who put their lives on the line to serve and protect us. I admire the ones whose job IS to make those tough decisions every day. Lord knows I couldn’t do what they do.

However, I have no interest in contributing to making our learning climate more adversarial, which is what giving us access to guns would surely do. I got into teaching to make a difference by seeking the best in students and to help them reach their potential - not to go to work every day and be on the alert for threats.

It goes far beyond possessing the necessary training for the use of a weapon. What about the management of your emotions? What about the snap decisions I’d be forced to make in the heat of the moment? Just the thought of being put in that position ... I couldn’t do it. Again, I respect the brave souls who wear the badge and do this job every day, but it’s not in my job description, and I have no desire to be part of it.

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silentstardb · 8 years ago

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silentstardb · 8 years ago

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I need this. Especially tomorrow.

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silentstardb · 8 years ago

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Confidence is going after Moby Dick in a rowboat. And taking the tartar sauce with you. A bullfighter who goes in the ring with mustard on his sword.

Zig Ziglar

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silentstardb · 8 years ago

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Teach Anyway

We kicked off a new year of teaching today; year 11 for me. It's funny how each year is wrought with new challenges. Some are old, familiar challenges. Some are unique to the new year. But they all have one thing in common. They all manage to give me a serious case of the jitters ("First Day Jitters?" How about First Week?). And that's before the kids even get here. If it's not new curriculum maps, it's a new lesson plan template. If it's not learning to use Google Classroom, it's learning how to sign in and out every day (what, you don't do that?) If it's not finding out you have the hyper younger brother of THAT KID from two years ago, it's learning that he still has two younger siblings (and they are both in the same grade). If it's not figuring out what to do with the kids on the first day, it's figuring out what to do with the kids on the day BEFORE the first day (in our case, preseason camp). If it's not new assessments, it's newer versions of old assessments. The list goes on. I don't really know how, but the challenges still seem huge even after ten years. You would think after that much time, I'd be accustomed to this climate of constantly changing expectations in my profession. And in some ways, I am. I laugh, for example, when I hear that our numbers will be smaller next year. No, seriously. "HA!" Check back with me in August and we'll see about that. So after today, I find myself reflecting on the first unofficial day back at school (you know, when you get the whole staff handbook thrown at you and are given a Google life preserver). And it's already had its challenges. Honestly, I left today feeling a little discouraged despite going in with a positive attitude, and I hate that. But then I tried to remember what I've done in past years when I've been met with challenges that have gone beyond my control. Teach anyway. I'm here to teach the kids I'm blessed with. And make no mistake, my kids are a blessing to me. In ways I can't even count. God placed me here for a reason: to make a difference in the lives of children, to equip them to reach their potential, and to empower them to change the world. Psalm 127:3-5 says, "Children are a heritage from the LORD, offspring a reward from him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one’s youth. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them. They will not be put to shame when they contend with their opponents in court." My wife and I don't yet have children (we are in the adoption process), and so I think of my kids in the classroom as "my kids." And yes, they are a reward from God. On their best days and their worst days (and mine as well), they fill my heart. They keep me on my toes like few others can. They make the magic happen. They are why I do what I do. I feel I owe it to them to be the best I can be, despite the challenges that every new year brings my way. I guess what I mean to say is, when I have to use a new lesson template, teach anyway. So what if my classes double or even triple in size? Teach anyway. A new feature coming to Google that we have to master in two weeks? Teach anyway. Do the job that God has given me to the best of my ability. Adjust where I can, seek help where I can find it and trust in God for everything. That's what I can do. Teach anyway.

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silentstardb · 8 years ago

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Call it Out

I’ve kept mostly quiet on the issues that have been in the news recently. I have a legitimate reason. My wife and I have spend the majority of our summer preparing our house for adoption inspections. Cleaning out clutter, donating items to Goodwill, outdoor work, pressure washing, and installing new doors (with non-lead paint) tends to consume most of our time.

But despite little to no commentary, I’ve kept up with recent news. Most notably the Boy Scouts of America speech delivered by President Trump. The Guam crisis last week. And now Charlottesville, VA.

It’s not that I haven’t had thoughts or opinions. I’m never short of those (go ahead and roll your eyes here). It’s more like I’m at a loss on how to respond sometimes. When I watch things unfold that seem too horrific to be true, it cripples my thought processes to the point where words feel inadequate. It’s far easier to try to move on with life and busy myself with other distractions.

Did Charlottesville shock me? Of course it did. I watched horrified as a 20-year old plowed into a crowd of counter protestors. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. And I’ve now lived through a number of such tragedies on our soil. 9/11. The Oklahoma City bombings. The Virginia Tech shootings. Columbine. Fort Hood. Charleston. You’d think I would grow numb to it after so much senseless violence, but I don’t want to.

I guess what I found more appalling - and yet not all that surprising - was the response delivered by President Trump to the attacks.

“We condemn in the strongest possible terms this egregious display of hatred, bigotry and violence, on many sides. On many sides. It’s been going on for a long time in our country. Not Donald Trump, not Barack Obama. This has been going on for a long, long time.

"Our country is doing very well in so many ways. We have record – just absolute record employment. We have unemployment, the lowest it’s been in almost 17 years. We have companies pouring into our country. Foxconn and car companies, and so many others, they’re coming back to our country. We’re renegotiating trade deals to make them great for our country and great for the American worker. We have so many incredible things happening in our country. So when I watch Charlottesville, to me it’s very, very sad.”

Mr. Trump, you don’t know me. You have no reason to value what I think or care about what I have to say. I don’t know you personally either, but I did not vote you into office based on what I knew about the things you’ve said and done, particularly in regard to women, minorities, African-Americans, Hispanics, etc.

But this act was wrong. This was an evil act committed by white supremacists with hatred and bigotry in their hearts. Without regard for innocent life. Without regard for civil discourse or understanding. This was radicalism. This was racism. And it is not right. It is an abomination.

To hear you try to bend this into some twisted political rhetoric where it’s just something that happens on “all sides,” I feel, misses the point completely. Again, this act spawned from pure hatred and bigotry. From a desire to hurt and kill others in the name of radical supremacy. It is an act that should be denounced and demonized by everyone with a living, thinking mind and a sense of values. It should not be brushed off as some unfortunate event that’s been happening since our nation was founded. That in fact gives us more reason to call it out, to stand against it regardless of our background or political affiliation.

Mr. Trump, you seem more interested in creating distance from this act instead of confronting it head on and calling it out on what it is. You treat it as a sad inconvenience on what you perceive as an otherwise flawless administration, once again seizing the opportunity to flaunt yourself, to tout your achievements. In other words, "Yeah, it’s a shame people got hurt in Charlottesville, but just look at the unemployment record!“

I honestly do not know, nor can I comprehend, what possessed you to think bringing up your job hires and trade deals was a smart idea when we see footage of a car mowing people down in the street, innocents hurting and dying, people that need leadership and reassurance that this is not right, that this is not who we are, that this is not the way things are supposed to be. That is what we needed to hear, and you did not provide that.

God, I pray that I can follow Your example in Christ. I pray that I will find my solace in You. I pray that I will love You more in times like this, that I will not repay evil for evil, but overcome evil with good.

I know that means I must call out evil for what it is and not so readily accept it as the way things are. Nor must I give into the temptation to respond as the evil one would have me and lash back out at those who would say or do things that hurt me.

I pray that You will equip me to love You with all of my heart and soul, and to love my neighbor as myself.

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