The Day Before

September 10, 2001

I remember discussing the news with someone in the office where I worked, people were saying they were afraid to go to the beach. The big news distraction was all the shark attacks that summer, with a couple of fatalities at the local gulf coast beaches. I was trying to convince them that the beach was safer than driving to work, or driving to the beach, where 25 people were dying from car accidents every weekend in the same areas as the shark attacks at the Alabama and Florida gulf beaches. The shark attacks would not deter me from going into the water, either.

I remember making this point: "Do you cower in fear every time a thunderstorm passes?" Maybe you should, hundreds of people are struck by lightning every year, in their houses, where they think they are safe. If it's going to happen, you can't stop it, so I go outside during the storms and watch the light show, I love it, and I do not fear it, because I know it is outside my control. Same goes with getting attacked by something from the sea when you're at the beach. The shark attacks are news because the media was hyping it up. It was a slow news year, and the media needed something to get people hyped up, they love to spread fear.

That time was stressful for me because we had just been through a downsizing where I worked, five co-workers had been let go in the past week (just in my department, about 50 total were let go total on the project), the economy was struggling, the Internet financial bubble had burst (my investments were hit hard). I remember thinking the newly elected President was going to be a loser and bad news (it turned out even worse than I thought). I got bad vibes every time I saw Bush speak, thinking how phony he is when making a speech, like a greedy used car salesman.

One year earlier, I had been through a divorce, one that I initiated. I was having deep, deep regrets about the divorce, major depression and mood swings because of it. I was thinking that I ruined my life, there wasn't much reason to live, if only I could salvage the relationship I was having after the divorce, maybe this dark mood would go away. The harder I tried to make something happen, the worse and more complicated it became. I was on Prozac for one month, but that made the relationship worse, because I didn't care, and still wanted hurt myself (but take out others with me). I stopped the Prozac because all I wanted to do was work, I didn't want to have any social activities. When I was at work, I kept fantasizing about doing some great violent blood soaked rampage at work, or in some other public place, like during a crowded church service.

The thoughts went away after I stopped the Prozac.

The day I stopped, was six years ago tomorrow, my problems became so small.

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