Skip Gundlach wrote:
Skip's angst...

TMI warning:

This is long and personal, so if you're not one of the interested
parties relating to my post about being becalmed, bothered and
bewildered, you can skip this without missing anything.

A side note, I LOLd at 12* BTDC. Thank you for bringing a smile to my
face...

Thank you all for being concerned about me (and by implication,
Lydia). I really have nobody to talk to about this, and - of course,
having been taken to task by legions here for my candor (Lydia would
call it lack of boundaries, being entirely too open and accepting -
and non-judgmental - which has a huge component in how I got to where
I am right this minute), I have some reservations about "sharing" in
the AA or "dot A" (any other flavor of the same self-help groups)
sense. None the less, my shortcomings as a sailor, cruiser, and any
other you may care to identify have not ever been something I'm shy
about admitting, in the hopes that I might learn from others smarter
than I.

So, let's start with what it isn't. It isn't that I think I (or we)
made the wrong decision. I've never looked back, and was very
actively looking forward to our life aboard. There have been many
moments in the last two weeks where that has faltered, on which more
below - but it had nothing to do with the decision to go forward.

I'm also not (at least at this time) directly thinking about having
blown it and giving up the boat - nor giving up Lydia. Nor is Lydia
thinking her equivalents.

It isn't health in the sense that many of you speculate, but it is
definitely health related. Neither of us has little microbes, clots
or other impedimenta, though there is definitely fertile ground for
cells gone wild. The entire details of that won't be disclosed for
some time, when the others are ready for it to come out. It has a
great deal of my attention at the moment, however.

This isn't the only place where that post appeared; I put it on
several forums as well as my log list (the people who've asked for me
to mail my postings, which gets the postings you see with date titles)
and a couple of cruising related mail lists. Some have observed that
I seemed like I was down; one said I sounded depressed.

I am indeed depressed. TMI warning: I have chronic major depression,
which I've managed for many years, but at one time was 2x weekly
therapied, daily medicated and managed not to kill myself over my
perceived shortcomings. Due to current circumstance, I'm currently in
a failed remission, for lack of a better phrase, and it colors my
thinking and writing and, indeed, my life. That it's strictly
situational has prevented me from taking medical or other measures
beyond my own coping skills (I went to grad school on that one, so to
speak, and am reasonably good at it). One of the symptoms of
depression is the lack of interest in anything which used to be
pleasurable.

That's happening. I vacillate between turning into a hermit (can I
live on the pittance I have coming in if I have to get a land side
place, however simple and remote?) (because I have no more interest in
the boat, among other things which used to give me pleasure), stepping
off the transom one night under way (no, I won't - I'm not that
strong) to kill the pain, not having any enthusiasm for the new sails
which are on the way nor any of the myriad of little chores which
always accumulate on the boat (but going through the motions, anyway,
because I know I'll feel differently at some point and would regret
not doing it in retrospect), and all the other things that depression
engenders/spawns.

And, I also know that what's going on isn't the end of the world.
It's just that it's - irrevocably - changed it. From someone who's
lived through something else of perhaps more significance, as one of
my off-list correspondents pointed out, what I'm going through right
now is chump change emotionally. It's just that I was totally
blindsided, and the realities just keep getting worse, and I've not
yet worked out my coping mechanisms. I'm very good at blaming myself
for allowing it to happen, too, so "Angry Bob" (the cartoon literature
character by Rat in Pearls Before Swine) has nothing on me at the
moment.

And, since it involves others, until there is permission to discuss
it, I'll not directly say what dragon it is I'm fighting. The dragon
may well win and have the kingdom. Or, I may succeed in stuffing the
dragon in the far pasture where I don't have to see it, and can only
smell it and see its effect on my subjects (metaphorically speaking,
of course), but turn a blind eye. Or, the dragon may eventually die a
peaceful death, and I can get on with "only" having to deal with the
destruction wrought while it was here...

The onset of winter causes many of us who are far from manic depressive to
feel "down". Many of my neighbours counter this by heading south, at least
as far south of the equator as they currently live north of it. Furthermore
they stay there for at least five months, returning once they feel the
northern winter has passed. South Africa is the current favourite with this
gang.

Unfortunately, this takes money, or rather a willingness to spend
considerable amounts of the stuff, which, being stingy, I refuse to do.

In the sailing fraternity, there are many who believe that winter is a
God-given opportunity to prepare for the coming summer, and without it, our
boats would simply disintegrate. We may be kidding ourselves about this, but
at least that belief helps us turn out when it would freeze the b**** off a
brass monkey to complete some niggling little job that could well wait for
more suitable weather if we were honest with ourselves.

The medical profession are onto these seasonal feelings of depression in a
big way. In the UK one can buy all manner of simulated-daylight devices
which are guaranteed to increase your carbon footprint if not cure your
depression.

None of this will be of the slightest interest to the true depressive, and I
feel for you Skip.

You may gain some solace from the fact that you are not alone. Winston
Churchill was similarly afflicted. Maybe it is one of the downsides of true
greatness.


Dennis.