Read only if you plan on writing a country song later.

I've come to the realization that I'm suffering from depression. Oh, not the little bouts of depression that I've been prone to all my life, but full blown depression that's been going on now for at least a couple of years. The reason I didn't recognise it as depression is that it's not the near debilitating doom, gloom and despair that I suffered from way back when, where the only thing that kept me from killing myself was my refusal to ever give up and the thought of what it would do to my friends and family.

No, this depression is more insidious. It's a flat line depression just below contentment--one where the lows really aren't that low, but there aren't any highs to speak of either. I never get to that "I wish I were dead" state of mind, but I don't reach the "Wow, everything's great" peak either. As a matter of fact, I don't get much enjoyment out of anything, and even doing the things I once loved to do seem like a chore. It's an apathetic kind of depression that just goes on and on. For the most part I'd stay in bed if I had my way, or at least in my home. I believe agoraphobics lock themselves away because they have a fear of going outside, but what do you call someone who'd just prefer to stay home because they can't be bothered?

I think it really kicked in back when I developed melanoma. Oddly enough, with all that I've experienced in the military it was being diagnosed with melanoma that really brought my own mortality front and center. You often hear of people that have had a brush with death speak of how it changes their outlook on life. How they learned to live every day to its fullest or just chucked it all and followed their bliss. What I realised was that I still had bills to pay, people to take care of. Chucking it all would have been irresponsible, and following my bliss costs money--money that if I had had it in the first place I would have been following my bliss long ago. It's all well and good if it's your last day, but what do you on the day after your last day, and the day after that. The bank wants that mortgage payment--they don't care if you spent the money on hang gliding.

So you set goals for yourself. Maybe you can accomplish the things you want to do in little bits and bites. Move ahead one step at a time. Get a new job, write the book, stay in shape, travel.

I had an office job that was literally killing me, so I quit the Reg Force, took my pension and joined the Reserves as a recruit instructor. I'd always loved recruit instructing, and here was a way to pass on what I knew, doing something I loved, and get paid to do it. With my pension, it actually worked out to a bit of a raise. The Reserve recruit school had been open since 1992 and had just geared up to teach Reg Force Recruits as well, so I could safely finish out my career there.

And I thrived. Got promoted to Sgt right away, made Platoon 2 I/C, and was in line for another promotion and the Platoon Commander's position. Even developing melanoma didn't slow me down. Then the announcement came that they were closing the school.

Suddenly I went from the prospects of being a Warrant Officer to the very real possibility of being an unemployed Sgt. Trust me, being unemployed was something I'd never had to worry about in the Reg Force, and until then had no reason to believe I had to worry about in the Reserves. In the mad scramble for employment I ended right back where I started. So at least I was still employed, but I was back in the job I'd left in the first place, except now I didn't have the security or promotion possibilities that the Reg Force afford.

See, the Air Reserve works in a rather funny way. Promotion is not based so much on performance any more, but in availability of position. My last 3 evaluations all recommended me for immediate promotion, but since there's no Warrant's Position here, there's no chance for promotion.

But hey, I had a job, right? And with my pension the pay was pretty good. Except the gov't decided they needed to trim 10% off of everyone's budget, the military included. Apparently the first to go are the full time reservists. My contract is up in September and I don't know if it will be renewed yet. And even if it is renewed, the best they can offer me right now is a contract until the end of March 2013. Where my initial contracts were 3 year contracts with the automatic option of an additional 3 years at the end, the best they can do now is offer year to year.

But wait, it get's worse. The gov't has decided that if you work full time in the Reserves you can no longer collect your Reg Force Pension. Which means even if they offer me a contract, I'll lose my pension, which is about 1/3 of my take home pay. I can actually make more money if I opt to keep my pension and go on unemployment for a year. Of course, they haven't decided yet exactly what constitutes Full Time in the reserves, so no one is sure how this works yet. And they could offer me a part time contract (12 days a month), so I could still keep my pension, but again, I'd make more money on Unemployment.

To be honest, being so summarily dismissed after 30 years of military service isn't exactly a boost to the old self-esteem either.

Let's see, what else did I do to change my life? Oh yeah, I wrote another book. See my dream (because you have to have a dream) is to be able to make a modest living writing. All well and good, except the Agents aren't rejecting me so much as out and out ignoring me. Of the 12 agents I initially queried at least 6 weeks ago now, 7 haven't even bothered to reply. Not even a, "Dear Steve, No!"

I'm starting to think being an author is not one of those professions at the top of the self-esteem list. Probably not the best choice for someone suffering from depression either.

So, I started hitting the gym hard again. Except somewhere along the line I got old. When you're used to being superman, getting old sucks. I have to wear reading glasses now--at first I needed them just to prevent eye strain; now I need them to…um…read. I'm on Lipitor for cholesterol and Synthroid for my thyroid (which means no matter how hard I work out or starve myself eat right it's near impossible to lose weight) and today I just did some blood tests because apparently my blood sugar is a little high, so now I have the possibility of diabetes to look forward to. But hey, I'm still strong as an ox.

I tried to get a band going. Once upon a time I was a professional drummer. I won't bore you further with the details about that, but so far, no luck.

And of course I'm sure I'm suffering from the whole mid-life crisis thing. I'm certainly not where I thought I'd be in my life right now. I mean, I have an IQ over 140, and I don't think I'm socially awkward. I have strong proven leadership abilities, I'm creative, with an old-fashioned work ethic and sense of responsibility. Yet I know no-talent cretins with the brains of an icecube who pull in six figures at least, and here I am with absolutely no idea what I'm going to do or who will pay me to do it should I lose my job in the military.

So not the best time in my life: getting old, losing my job, no band, no luck publishing.

If this were a movie this would be right about the time where everything would turn around. I'd get a great job offer, or become a best seller. But this is real life so I'll probably get hit by a car or get cancer or something.

So I'm not sure if this is really depression, or just having the life kicked out of you. Either way, pretty pathetic, huh?


Thank god I still have my wife, Pen, who I love to pieces. I don't know why she puts up with me.