Sad

sad dad summer

This summer I've felt sad. Sad in a way that makes you feel like you are covered in thick honey with no energy to unstick yourself -so you just lay there rotting in the sweetness. I've done so much fabulous travel and had such amazing opportunities but, all I've been able to say all summer is “I'm so tired.” It was so lovely, but I'm just so tired. We’ll catch up soon, right after I rest. It took me a minute to figure out, but I'm pretty sure this summer I've been suffering from depression. In the past I've said I was depressed because something situational stressed me out, like money or a failed relationship or I've even said I was depressed to try new drugs because they feed my addict brain. But, this, now this is different… it was/is silent and it was/is heavy and it made/makes me isolate myself. I thought depression would feel more monumental or massive like I've seen in movies, but this feels silent and kinda slow. It’s not my job, it’s not my relationship, honestly I have no clue how to explain it except my insides feel so tired.

I have a beautiful relationship that is hard work but worth every caliber of effort. I have a job that is wonderful and exciting and I'm treated with respect and awarded with creative freedom. It’s literally a job that a million Makeup Artists would die for and at least 3 times a day I have to pinch myself to make sure i’m actually there. But, I also have a rot in my heart when it comes to my family and a growing sense of loneliness as we (my partner and I) outgrow this city. I’m burnt out, not from anything specific, but from a lifetime of flight or fight. 42 years of trying to get above sea level. 20 years of trying to prove myself I can do it. Four years of convincing myself I belong. Two years of accepting that I am aging and my wants and needs are changing.

Last week, I spent two hours in the ocean. Two full hours acting like I was a mermaid -crashing through waves, floating and daydreaming. The entire time I was met with such peace. No intrusive thoughts, no worry or panic, just a holy feeling of something telling me it's time to shift, shed and evolve. Telling me that I am finally safe. That I have proven to the king I am strong and worthy. Something shifted a bit. This last year it was really hard for me to write, but today my fingers are singing across this keyboard. I can't put it into words but something inspired me at Sag Main beach.

In regards to my depression, I have a plan and I already feel like the trajectory is upwards. I started looking for a new therapist. I love my current one so much, but I think I need a new perspective. I am taking a break from drinking, I’ll get into more about this later. I started teaching breathwork and have been treating it like an act of service, something to connect and build a bit of community while filling my artistic tank. In the same vein, I have been taking a cue from the Artist Way and I've been taking myself on artist dates. These are just moments for me or to be shared where I pull inspiration. Little things, but big feelings. I will say dealing with a sober mind is exhausting and challenging. My sleep is a bit thrown off and my anxiety is heightened. But I've been down this road before and I know it will level in time. Once I spend some time with my therapist and sober i will even consider medicine if I need it.

I'm not sure where this is going to go but there is something about this share that feels right. I’m sharing this with you in case you feel similar, or if you look at my life on social media and feel envious or think “He’s really crushing it.” I am crushing it, but also it's crushing me a bit. Im excited to regularly write again. I’ll post a thought or a story and I might review books and share some beauty and style things I love, but above all else this is a column about being an elder gay millennial and where I've been, where I'm at and where I'm going.

I read this quote a few weeks ago and I feel like I’ve read it everyday since.

Don't try to fix life - live it.

I think we forgot that life was never meant to be understood - it was meant to be felt. We spend so much time trying to figure everything out. Trying to fix, explain, solve, and control. But life is not a puzzle - it's a wave.

And you were never meant to carry the wave. You were meant to let it move through you - the joy, the fear, the heartbreak. The moments that didn't make sense until much later.

You were never broken, you were becoming.

I think the sadness comes when we try to hold on to what is meant to pass. We grip the moment, the person, the feeling, hoping to freeze it in time. But everything you have ever loved was borrowed and the beauty of it was never in the holding - it was in the being.

So if you are hurting, don't rush to escape it, if you are lost, don't race to find direction, feel it, all of it Because this too, is part of the dance to be alive. And if you listen closely, even your pain is trying to teach you to be alive

-Alan Watts

This week's artist date I spent two hours on a long lunch break in the park at Aster place. I grabbed a salad from Wegmans and enjoyed the PERFECT summer weather. It was hot, but with very little humidity, it felt like LA and it was splendid. After my salad and people watching I grabbed a cold brew and decided to finish one of the books I was reading. Maybe This Will Save Me by the goddess Tommy Dorfman. I've met Tommy a few times and she is such a character, she’s always down to go deep over a ciggy or gossip about fashion, but other than that I didn't know much: actress, trans, fashion it girl. I've been nursing this book all summer, reading a chapter here and there, because I just didn't want it to end. Its a really fucking great book, its a book hopefully someday i’ll get to write one similar. It tells stories of her past, about love and addiction, about how she felt transitioning about acting. It is very raw and relatable. She isn't fragile about the hard stuff and I really loved that. When I finished it felt like I was saying goodbye to a best friend I made at summer camp. I closed the book and looked at all the beautiful people weaving through the park. The young PR girls in their ALO, the hot skaters turning the big stupid metal cube, the fuckboys with their perfect arms and collections of tiny tattoos, the 20 somethings with plump natural collagen filled faces and the gay boys that would double take when they saw me out of homosexual recognition reaction. This is such a simple thing, a long lunch break with a book, but its something I never do and I can't tell you the simple and pure way it filled my artistic tank and eased my soul a bit.