We were out with some friends and their kids last night, and at some point The Champ ran up to Hot Wife and wailed, “Mommy, that kid is trying to kill me.”
“What do you mean he’s trying to kill you?” she asked, placing her hands on his shoulders to calm him.
“He was choking me,” he said, panting. “And he’s trying to kill me.”
After some preliminary investigation (Me: “Hey! What the fuck’s going on over here, you bratty kids?”), we discovered that the boy my son had singled-out as his attempted assassin WAS in fact choking him, but only because The Champ had instigated a fracas with the smaller, younger boy and was trying to contort him into The Yellow Power Ranger’s Ferocious Choke-Hold of Death From Which No Four-Year-Old Has Ever Wiggled Free And I Will Dance Like Jamiroquai Around Your Floppy Corpse After I End You Mutha-Fuckah! The younger boy feared for his life, escaped The Champ’s confinement, pulled a sweet reversal on him and began to choke my son as a sign of his distaste for false imprisonment.
My son, in his embarrassment over being strangled by someone two years his junior, tried to pull his own reversal by complaining that someone was trying to kill him. And it struck me that when I was six, I would have done EXACTLY the same thing. I might have even shit my pants for extra dramatic effect.
I was moved by Heather’s post yesterday. As has been pointed-out in the comments section here, depression is not something that can be cured by simple force of will. If it was as simple as running through a brick wall, there would be no need for Lexapro or Prozac or any of the other brain-chemistry-altering concoctions that so many of us must consume, choking them down with a glass of water and, at times, our pride. But there is an intangible motivator that comes from merely stepping back, taking a deep breath, and looking at one’s family.
Maybe it’s love.
Maybe it’s hope.
Maybe it’s both. Because in my mind, those two emotions are inseparable.
The title of this entry is taken from a Rush song called “Bravado.” The line I’ve quoted articulates exactly what I felt last night as I took in the choking incident and its aftermath.
Were I a single man, free of the responsibilities of marriage and fatherhood, my recent bout with depression may have been a deal-breaker. I was low and feeling pretty weak and not inspired to do much of anything but mope and sleep. And then my sweet, sweet daughter came into the room, climbed up on the bed and snuggled into that little wedge of space between my right shoulder and my chest. I pulled her close and held on, as though I was adrift at sea and she was my life raft. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.
I will, as the song says, pay the price. Because love remains. Because when you’re low and your tired and there doesn’t seem to be anything that can rescue you from the depths, there is a little girl who loves her daddy enough to know when he needs a snuggle. There is a wife who loves her husband enough to agonize over his agony, enough to marshal the resources of an entire network of friends and family for free mental health care advise, enough to ask if seeing her boobs would make him feel any better. And there is a son who is destined for greatness even greater than his current greatness, although he really needs to be taught when to shit his pants for effect.
amen
That was awesome.
I feel like a jackass for saying so after such a neat post, but can I give love for the word 'fracas'? That's some good shit of a word right there.
Also. You're a good egg.
Price well paid.
Yeah. Me too.
It is always the little things that bring about monumental changes in the way I feel, too. I'm glad you got your snuggle. We all could use a good snuggle every now and then.
You're pretty much MY favorite person on the internet right now.
(If you only knew how much I can relate when you write about such things...)
I've found myself holding on to my children (and my husband) for dear life lately.
What Y said. Amen.
If only boobs could solve all problems...this world would be so perfect.
Hang in there! I battle the battle too.
I am new to your blog but once I came here, I couldn't turn away.
Danny
I too feel the pull. Loved the article. I too need to see the boobs to keep level. BOOBS RULE
As the father of two such daughters I think it is my 3 year old (the youngest) who understands my moods best and seems to understand the sword she wields to cut through my occasional gloom by just holding on, then announcing "I tooted! hee hee" More power to you.
Please, more. The tears are falling. The heart is in the throat. Aching to ask for help. I need it. I am a mother of 2 daughters, stepmom of 1 son. I eat depression for breakfast, lunch, and supper. I can't escape it. But reading your life...thank you, sir. For all that you are, and all that you will be.
Psssst. Don't tell the artist formerly known as Barney's Biggest Fan that she saved your life. She'll weild that power to finagle a Lexus out of you sometime in the future. I guarantee it.
wow, that was really nice.
Posts like these are the ones you should share with her when she is older. Nothing is greater for a child than knowing the love their parent's have for them. =o)
Honey, I would walk around topless all day every day if it would make it ALL better. I know that it won't so don't try to convince me otherwise. But I love you that much.
Your posts make me understand my life better, cocksuker.
I guess I'm finally realizing that I've dealt with depression my entire life, even as a child. Which would explain why I used to fantasize about dying all the time.
And now, I have my husband and kids and those same depressive feelings remain, but I do not fantasize about dying anymore.
There's too much to lose.
"And I Will Dance Like Jamiroquai Around Your Floppy Corpse After I End You Mutha-Fuckah!"
Best threat evah! May I use it one day?
Your family loves you, I understand why...you are a lucky dad gone mad!
Can't. Cry. At work with makeup on.
Eloquent words as always. Thank you for being you and sharing that.
There is nothing like the unconditional love of your child is there??
I've had those snuggles too, they are the best!!
Thanks for sharing Danny.
The way you articulate your feelings for your family astounds me. It's so subtle and wrapped up in such poopiness and toilet humour, but shines through with such a force. I bow to you.
Touching Danny. Very touching. I hope you start to feel better soon.
Depression is the kind of thing you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy.
Little tiny girls are the best snugglers ever. My 3yr. old is like a sweet little puff. I'll be very sad when she is too cool to snuggle with me.
You inspire hope. :)
That was awesome....
also a little hilarious.
much love and hugs
Haha, you've got some great kids there. Lucky man!
I know exactly what you mean about the power of a little one/love to bring you out of a funk. During my cancer ordeal, people would ask me how I managed it with four kids to take care of. My thought was how could I have done it without them?
I read somewhere that when Jerry Lewis was addicted to Rx pain killers because of back injuries, he was in his bathroom in front of the mirror with a pistol in his mouth when he heard his children laughing down the hall. He decided to get help instead. Kids can have the most powerful effect on us and not even realize it. Thank God for them and anyone else who pulls us through.
Maria P. my 23 year old daughter still climbs into my lap for hugs when she sees I'm having a bad day. I kept telling her how much it helped so she kept doing it.
Man, that was awesome! Makes me chuckle ... which was just what I needed right now. Thanks!
I hope you feel better soon.
All I got to say is keeping fighting and never quit.
Very sweet.
Dude... You... are... amazing.
Families and friends are the most important thing in the world, eh?
I was planning on touting for sympathy/ support for the kids I'm working with, but I can't do that just now.
Thanks, for whatever you just did to my brain.
Great blog...great post.
A great wife and kids can get you through anything!
Danny, as an occasional de-lurker and faithful reader let me tell you that I look forward to reading you before I start my day. You really have a gift for putting things into words.
Again, You Rock
I only wish when my mom tangled with schizophrenia she had been able to see this, that it was worth getting help to keep the family together.
You're so very right about this - keep them in your sights, and they will do anything to help you. It is worth it for you and for them.
I usually read without commenting, but wanted to come out of the woodwork and give you props for this. I know it can take lots of support, and anyone willing to take on this struggle has me for a cheerleader. Go, DGM, Go!
Thank you, for being here and writing.
Snuggles !!! The best Rx. I got one from Fox this am and it made my day. Enjoy all of yours with the gorgeous fam.
"Hey, you kids..." Ha. That's me too:)
daniel, all I can say is that I love you.
that and, unfortunately, I cussed at your niece this morning.
Awesome.
I too swallow my pride, a fist full of pills, followed up by a monthly visit to the doctor who takes enough blood to make Tampax happy. Last week sitting with my son I told him I wasn't feeling well and would like it if we could just stay home for the night and watch a video. He didn't care. So as I crouched down to but in the video he placed his arm around me and said: "Dad, I love you". He's three ;)
Love you, Danny.
You are blessed... in so many ways.
At one of my (many) deepest episodes, it was the crayon drawing and simple words of my daughter...."I love you Mommy", found beside me on my bed when I pulled my head out from under the pillow. Our children are pretty amazing creatures.
Well said. From a fellow prozac taker.
And that is what family is about.
I know your poop stories are a favorite with many of your readers and I asssume you love them, too, since you share them with us. My nephew recommended the following site to me - in a very laughingly, embarrassed voice. Once I checked it out, I knew you needed to be alerted to its existence. Please take a moment to check out http://www.poopreport.com/
I think you have stories to contribute to the different categories.
I couldn't wait for an appropriate story (I'm older and tend to forget things), so I've inappropriately added my comment here.