28 days

I've become a cliche.

In biology 20, if you have ever taken it that men... In a way, do have a menstrual cycle. Sans bleeding. But, we totally want the DVD of beaches and the 6 bars of Jersey Milk. Men go through a period of anger, sadness and in some men.. A series of depressive events.

I am one of those men.

I have learned my demons take a vacation (or staycation if you will) and come back ever 26 days.

In that time, I question my life, my existence and revisit the night I decided not to end my life. It has become a visit.

Just the demons wreck shit on their way out. This is what depression feels like for me.

I do not enjoy it. But, in a cynical way. I have become to expect it, and welcome it. As a weird introspective way to view myself. It is never positive. But, it does help me understand my functioning brain.

Over the past 5 weeks, 3 students have committed suicide at the U of A.

Please read next blogpost for follow up.

My Biggest Regret

If I could. I wouldn't. It has been about 4 years since that incident. It never bothered me, until September. I got to see the face of a person who has been told the worst thing they can hear, and have never truly recovered. I would say your name, but for protection I won't.

Maybe one day you will read this. Maybe one day you will be directed to it, JW.

Know this, my life has changed. Some of it for the better, some of it for the worst. I battled for my fiancee. I was willing to battle to wits end. Sadly, I went past that and I went below the belt.

That day I told you to kill yourself. I remember all 10 minutes of the event. What we were talking about, who was around, what was played. Where we were. I remember it because I recount the day in my head about 3 times a day as of recently. I wish I played it differently. But, that's perhaps the most bitter things about life. You do not get a redo. You do not get a 1 up or a rewind button.

The words hang from my mouth. then Shotputted out. Without regard for me or you. I told you, a person who suffered mental illness as much as me to kill yourself. You were better than me. You could admit it to yourself. You were treating it and working on becoming a better person. I was working on hurting you in the worst way so you would never talk to me again. It worked.

That day changed my life. I hope it changed your life or motivated you. If it depressed you more it would crush me. I never understood the magnitude of those words. At this moment if those words were uttered to me it would make me question life.

It was sociopathic, masochistic and reprehensible. There is no amount of apologizing I can do.

I deserved the slap I got. The slap was the most deserving and the most significant.

It reached my apex, bliss with the woman I fell in love with, to doubting everyone and everything.
The slap launched 4 years of mania, depression, anxiety, a series of failures and some of my greatest battles in life and battling everything with the perfect woman.

I am going to marry the girl I fought for. I wish my strategy was better. I wish I could what i said back. Everyday this semester was a reminder of the monster I was/am.

I gave up on myself this semester and in a way, it was my just dessert.

I said the most heinous thing a person could say to another person.

I am truly sorry.

Best Regards,

Devon Hunt

I wish I was dumber

Let me preface this with this: Yes, I am smarter than you. No, you shouldn't feel bad. I'm probably more athletic, have a better job. I have a bigger Johnson then you.. And also a bigger dick (badumtsch). I am better than you at every facet.

^^^^

That person is not me (sub the Dick part, I am huge).

... Right?

I look at everyone around me as better. Maybe, it is conditioning. Maybe it is biological. Maybe it is cultural. It probably isn't Maybelline.

I look at everyone around me as better
I look at everyone around me as better.

I go to my old workplace, people I work with who have a slight pay raise. All the sudden better.
I go to school, overhear people talk about grades. A C- is better. The fucking letter grade could be a W. And I'd be like fuck I'm dumb.

This is one of the major things that plague me the most. I think I am smarter than what I am. I think I am dumber than what I am. I am never happy with my knowledge, my abilities or my thoughts. I can't sleep. But... Suddenly I see your asshole toddler having a nap, I feel such emptiness. "That kid can take a mean nap, and a mean dump all at once and I can't even sleep." I eat. I eat unhealthy. I eat healthy. I eat. I judge everything I eat on how I feel after I have eaten... Da fuq is that.

That's me. I wish I was dumber.

I wouldn't psychoanalyze every waking moment of my life. I do. This sinks me lower into my depression. It sinks it's teeth into me like I'm a burger on David Hasslehoff's binge night.

That stark realism that most of the time I don't know what stark means. But, you will understand what I mean. I'll compulsively look that up though. Immediately get angry that I didn't know that. Such anger that a toddler who woke up with a mean dook in his pants would have.

What I'm saying is. I wish I was dumber in most cases, or at least less likely to psychoanalyze myself.


And I want to be able to take a dump in my pants while I sleep without judgment.

Best Regards,

Devon

Diminishing Returns

Also known as life. I am writing about Diminishing Returns as it pertains to me, my studies, and my mental health.

This semester I vowed to be happier, more upbeat and more optimistic about life. I was finally mapping out my life, was taking initiative and became myself (more or less). Some days I believe it. For the past two weeks my demons have gotten the better of me.

I dwell on them, I let them slowly overtake not only my mind, but my energy. Slowly draining the life out of me. Not being able to sleep and being sore for 2 weeks has been a learning process. I blame myself. I wanted to just say "Okay, I can battle through, I can go outside. I can go to class. I can function as a human." People who do not suffer depression have the mindset that it would be as easy as saying "Get over it." That will never be the case. There would be no depressed people in the world if that was the case. Depression is not a weakness. Depression is a sickness. A sickness that you cannot really medicate. You can moderate. You cannot escape it. You cannot dissociate. You become depression.

About 3 weeks ago, I was heading into my first midterm, feeling the best I have felt in a long time. I studied for umpteen hours over a couple days. I went in and wrote what I thought was a damn near perfect exam. I checked my mark the following week and received a 45 percent. Which normally I would take on the chin and keep going. But, the time and effort I put into something I actually enjoyed studying made it a bitter, chalky, John Goodman sweaty pill to swallow.

I turned to comedy. My own or stand up. Finding an escape, trying to stay afloat from the impending depression. I failed myself, along with that exam. I let it beat me.

Beat me down. I cannot go to my profs and tell them that I was not attending class because... "I failed class and I am feeling unbelievably depressed." It is not their problem. I'm not the only student who is depressed, I'm not the only student who failed. I am number 175****. That's how I am identified in the system. That's what I am to most professors. A face in the crowd that disappears in 4 months.
Post-secondary is starting your own future. You will put time, energy, debt, sweat, tears, and every ounce of brainpower into it. Some day you may beat it. Most days it will beat you. It will beat you down.

Best Regards,

A man who is depressed, who can't get out of bed. Who doesn't want to get out of bed. A man who uses a lot of contractions.

Best Regards,

Student No. 175****

Best Regards,

Devon Hunt.

A year later...Father? why bother?

A year ago. You left. The only person I could call a father. The only person I really wanted to call a father. You weren't a rock, you weren't anything special, all you really did was service a role. That role that every kid would want. A father.

I'm used to the absence of a father. I am not used to the sheer disrespect to the family who surrounded you.

I can fault you for many things, you supporting us is not one of them.

We were different. You liked cars, fishing, discovery channel and being bald.

I liked having hair, didn't care about cars, fishing or boats. Mythbusters was the bomb.

You left a hole in a piece of my heart. You hurt one of the only feelings. It was hard for me to call you a father. for 16 years I was unsure. The 4 years prior to you leaving us high and dry, I assumed you had earned it.

You constructed this view among me and my siblings. You supported us, you attempted to debate to show other sides, you even gave me twitter material. You supported a woman who was dealt a shitty hand. You supported her as much as she supported you. You are not a saint. Rather, you were the other half of a supportive/combative relationship. I used to say "Wow, he does a lot, he supports us. On his own." You supported us financially. You weren't there emotionally. You sure in the hell couldn't be there mentally. You paid bills. You're support was a facade. Money goes so far. To be a father, to be a husband, hell to be a son; you need more than money. My mother supported us kids for those 20 years. Financially, emotionally, mentally and in any other sense of motherly duties. She never threw in the towel.

...

You did.

You waste of space, you Mr. Clean looking piece of garbage. You left in the worst way at the worst time. You scapegoated two people and 2 dogs who I would value more than you on any given day. It was never their fault. Habituation of the smell of dog shit takes 2 days. You needed a reason. You built a hatred for 2 people for 3 years. Systematically and with rhythm.

You scapegoated them to throw in the towel. You said "why can't they pay all of it?" Those are the last words you said to me. Why can't someone else bail your dumbass out.

You left a woman unable to work, to live a day without pain, and who just lost her father. You left a son who endured a surgery, 40 pounds of weight loss and is approaching his most serious surgery he has had since he was a newborn. You left in 10 seconds. You left years of uphill battles for people who did not deserve it. You thrust a student in the role of supporting the family you could not admit you couldn't. You crushed the spirits of the person I love with my heart. You crushed my spirits. For a year I have said it didn't effect me. You leaving effected me quite a bit. The way you left everything with such disregard and disrespect was appalling. The threat of domestic violence if you stuck around any longer was stinging. Your reasoning for leaving was to raise two children you never knew. who were over the age of 25. Who were worth more than the 20 years you spent in my life.

I don't know what it was supposed to do for me. I'm less focused on school. I'm more family orientated. I'm more helpful to those around me. You leaving taught me humility in a way. You taught me to be even more cynical and more sarcastic.

You are the worst.

A year later, thousands of tears later. I'm unforgiving.

I am more of a father to me, than you ever could be, I'm supporting my family. I'm being the man. The roles you gave me involuntarily. If I died would you even care. If you died, would I even care?

You abandoned all you had. You became the definition of sad.

We are fine without you, one year later. The sting is still there. But, we will live without you.

So, fuck you, Ravid Dobb. Fuck you.

smile?

How long can you smile?
Why do you smile?
What does a smile signify?

A smile signifies happiness, humour, love, seduction, excitement and pleasantry.

Why do people smile?

To show that they have a nice smile, heard a funny joke, to generally make people happier.


I don't smile. I have a few reasons. Lack of teeth, lack of effort, no reason to and most importantly. Why lie to the people around me about my "Happiness"?

My cynicism and my pessimism rings throughout my body like a bill collector calling your house.

I cannot tell you the last time I have felt happy enough at the core to smile. My life is what it is. I've tried. I've won. I've lost. I have tried less than what I should've. I am not a person who feels successful. I don't feel I have achieved.

I get by, I fight for every inch. I never truly appreciate reasons to smile.
I never enjoy myself.
I am the loudest, I am the most annoying and most days I am frustrating. I try to make others smile. I try too hard. Make people uncomfortable.

I am feeling defeating and that is part of the process.

I wish I had something to smile about.

Rather, a frown will suffice.

for RW.

Thanks Robin Williams. Thanks to the thousands of other contributing members of society who have also passed. Before someone is a gigantic ass about this. I am not ignorant to the fact that Robin Williams lived well off, had a family and loving kids. I'm not ignorant to the fact that thousands of people have died in the past month that are also just as important to their family.

I am writing this for perspective. Whenever a heartbreaking story about suicide comes out, it hurts me deep. I don't know the person. But, I fight the same demons. It is a stark realization of what I fight everyday that I am alive. It may seem a little naive to say that Robin Williams dying has effected me immensely. But, it has. I am a amateur comedian, an ass and someone who tries his hardest to entertain. Night time is where my demons come to roost. I have no one to entertain, so my mind entertains me. It is not friendly nor is it hospitable to my well-being. However, that is what my life has been for 16 months. I don't sleep. I do not like sleeping. Yet, I will medicate my way to getting a few hours a night. I go for stretches where I eat once a day and drink water to binge eating. My weight is an atrocity. That is because my future is uncertain. As is yours. I have major surgeries and a career yet to plan.

I want to entertain, I want to help. I'd write columns for free. I'd put effort into writing this blog for a mass audience. Even moreso than now. I want it for the fame. I want it for the luxury. But, most of all I want it to do what I was born to do. Make others happy, make others think, make others love, make others enjoy life. At the expense of my enjoyment. I still plan to do stand up.

This is where this is my life hits a crux. Stand up comedians are some of the most depressed people you will ever meet. They are the epitome of a troubled case. Most comedians are self-deprecating and angry. Most of them medicate to sleep. Most of them self medicate to even get through a set.

RW battled addiction, depression and chronic anxiety.

in 1998 he was chosen to sing Blame Canada on behalf of the voice actress of Sheila Brovlovski of South Park. She committed suicide a few weeks before she was set to sing at the oscars.

He seemed to hit a crux. His stand up stalled, his movies were dark. His characters were maladjusted.
Perhaps mirroring his own mind and the cage that surrounds it.

RW gave his entire efforts into his acting, his voice acting, his singing, his entertaining, his philanthropy. RW gave everything he had until he had nothing left. No one was there to entertain, to talk or to listen to him when he needed it most. He never spoke up. His instagram activity would seem as if he is reminiscing. But, it is eerie the photos he has posted. I fear he had this plan for weeks.

Maybe great minds and comedic geniuses are meant to stay for a shorter time. Maybe they feel better if they decide how they go.

RW is one of millions of people who struggled with their depression.

RW was not weak, he was not a coward and he did not take the easy way out.

He was a father, entertainer, comedian, philanthropist, impressionist, good guy and an inspiration.

Thanks RW for the laughs and the inspiration. Without comedians like you, I would not want to entertain. I would not be the person I am.