The Why I haven't written a beer blog in months blog

I haven't written an original beer blog in nearly three months. I haven't had anything worthwhile to say on Facebook or any other social media platform in a long time either.

My voice has left me.

I try to stay consistent in my writing but it has been difficult in the past year and especially of late. I still come up with ideas and occasionally (but not often) pearls of wisdom and funny shit, but I cannot sustain it long enough to produce anything of quality.

Which, of course, puts extra pressure on me, as well as great gobs of guilt. Which makes it worse.

Of course.

Anyway, in my soul searching to understand why I can't finish a blog, I realized I'm not going to be able to write a blog about beer until I write a blog about why I haven't been able to write a blog about beer. Or anything else.

This is that blog.

I suffer from depression.

I've suffered for most of my adult life but didn't really identify it as such until more recently. And I'm not alone, as eight per cent of Canadian adults will experience major depression in their lives: that's nearly three million of us.

I know there are many people out there who have it far worse than me. I don't have suicidal thoughts, as I have always believed the situation couldn't possibly get any worse. I've been wrong on that a few times, but that's what I believe and I'm sticking to that.

But I don't want to minimize how I feel either.

The Black Dog, as others call it, can be all-consuming, turning an otherwise ordinary sunny day into darkness. That to-do list for what I hoped was to be a productive day? It would still sit, untouched, on the counter while I escaped to bed for a nap that could take up half my day. Or I'd find refuge in another escape or two: smoking weed (if I have some) or over-eating.

My social life outside of my two jobs is practically non-existent. Being 57, depressed, out of shape (though unbearably handsome) and stuck in a job that no longer makes me happy does not make me an attractive prospect; I get that. I've been on two dates in the last year, and my last girlfriend? Actually, let's not go there at all.

My confidence has left the building. I need it to come back.

I respect TSN's Michael Landsberg and his mantra #sicknotweak but it is hard for me to buy into it. A lifetime of hearing about pulling up your bootstraps, and just do it! makes it difficult to think beating depression or any other mental illness is as easy as, well, pulling up your bootstraps and just doing it.

And no, I don't know what bootstraps are either.

I am (for the most part) fully functional. I get up and go to work every day - I haven't missed a day in nearly a year - and I try to be dedicated to my parental responsibilities.

But it's like I'm living in a fog, and that fog is getting thicker each day.

Writing is not easy at the best of times and it's nearly impossible during the worst of times. As a working journalist I could churn out stories on time and with little difficulty and when I started blogging in 2013 I was writing three blogs a week. Hell, two years ago I was churning out ten each month.

But those were better times. I had the cash to fund a trip to Florida for myself and my youngest son - our third consecutive year of actually taking a holiday - and I was a much happier man. Now I struggle to pay the bills and I no longer push myself hard to make deadlines, which are self-imposed anyway as my freelance career dried up nearly a decade ago. I figured I already put enough pressure on myself, so it's wouldn't be healthy to force myself to do something that isn't a high priority.

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized writing IS important to me. It is my outlet, my way of expressing who I am to those who want to hear it.

That's a lot of pressure.

It's not like I don't know what to do. Taking a positive outlook on life is critical if I want to be happy (and I do) and that used to come easily to me. Not any more. I've tried professional help, with mixed results, though my last sessions were productive. That was many years ago, though.

I still keep in touch with my counsellor (we play soccer together in an over-45 league on occasion) so I plan on giving that (and the soccer) another go.

I also have a really supportive family, and I want to give a special shout-out to my Mom and Dad - who helped free me from a financial mess - and to my son Cameron, who took in dear ol' Pops in his time of need on a temporary basis. I have a few friends I can count on as well (thanks for bending an ear Don), so there is light in the darkness. There is hope. As they say in New Zealand, Kia Kaha (Stay Strong).

Depression can be beaten, and I will beat it.

Today is January 25, also known as #Bellletstalk day. So I'm talking. Thanks for listening.

Cheers!