One Saturday night, the boys and I were cooking supper. I decided to talk to them about my depression. As always, they had a pile of questions.
I answered their questions the best I could while pouring myself a large glass of goat piss.
First it was Brad. “So if you’re mostly feeling better, how do you know you still have depression?”
“There are still some things I feel that are pretty clear symptoms of depression. For example, some mornings I have a hell of a hard time getting out of bed.”
Richie, who has always been an early riser said, “Well I wake up each morning and think that I’d better get going, because there’s too much potential in the day for me to not get started right away.”
Was this kid trying to make me weep? “That’s a great attitude, Richie! The problem with being a depressive is that I have trouble seeing that potential. It’s really hard for me to get started at ANYTHING. There’ve been days that I waited until 2:00 to get out of bed.”
Brad, who is not an early riser, seemed almost impressed. “Does that happen a lot?”
“Not as much as it did. It was worst in the first few months after I first separated from your mom, but it still happens from time to time.”
Richie had an idea. “Can we make a poster for your bedroom wall to help you?”
“An inspirational poster? That is an excellent idea, my friend. What will it say?”
“Can it say whatever we want?”
Hmm. Should probably approach that one with caution. “Sure. Just make sure it really is inspirational.”
It was a big event the next day to go out and buy the markers and bristol board. While I did some work, I could hear them giggling and the markers squeaking happily on the bristol board.
After they hung the poster, they called me into my bedroom to see it. In large rainbow letters, the poster told me, “GET THE FUCK OUT OF BED!”
Yep. That’s exactly what I needed.