35

35Today I turn 35 and here’s what I’m thinking abut.

I’m thinking about depression. I’ve been severely depressed several times in my life. When depression is a well you visit with some regularity, you get to know the scenery.

Lately I’ve been turning to all the things that used to break my funks and none of them are working. Perhaps this bout has learned from the others and emerged stronger, wilder, able to strike me down with a crying jag in the frozen food aisle just because I passed one too many toddlers out shopping with dad. One glance at what I thought my life would be and – boom – cleanup on aisle five.

I used to write songs to get out of these funks, but my fingers aren’t nearly as graceful on the strings anymore, and I’ve heard this song so many times. Would anyone even want to hear the “Two Miscarriage Blues” sung out of tune with a broken string?

More and more these days I see life as a giant spiraling clusterfuck of bad craziness. A swirling mass of desperation that’s indifferent to any single participant in it. The vortex eats future plans and good intentions and shits them back out as chaos and sadness. It’s like the local news.

So if you can find a moment of joy in your life, you hang on to that thing for all it’s worth. It doesn’t matter what it is. Get whipped. Smoke pot. Fight. Paint pictures. Organize your closet. Create a magazine. Have sex. Make art. Take a photo of a stranger. IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT IT IS so long as it keeps you off of the edge, keeps you thinking, moving, feeling, wanting something more.

The vortex hates hope. And not pie-in-the-sky hope – that shit gets eaten up like corn chips. The vortex hates actual excitement about the future. The sincere stuff clogs it right up.

So if you can maintain that spark of hope for the future, if everyone could, we might just be able to get through the vortex together.

Lately I’ve been trying so hard, and failing even worse. Fray was going to be a glowing flower, but instead it’s just another money suck. Pixish started with such great intentions, got misunderstood, kicked to the curb, and still hasn’t stood back up.

But that’s all just professional shit. Here we were, Heather and I, decent salaries, good home, and we thought, maybe this would be our moment. Maybe now.

And we brought a life into this world that lived. It lived and had a heartbeat and it was there and then it wasn’t. Gone without a trace. 8 weeks.

It hurt so bad I thought I might give up. But we didn’t give up. We tried hard, thought positive, and did it again. And again we miscarried at 8 weeks. And the nurses and the doctors all shrug and say that nobody knows why it happens like this sometimes.

Everybody cares. Everybody understands. And nobody knows.

Fucked by business. Fucked by life. Fucked and 35 now. Half of my time on this planet used up.

I’m not giving up. I won’t give the vortex the satisfaction. I will keep fighting.

But goddamn it’s hard lately.

This is my birthday plea to the indifferent universe. Help me fight apathy with beauty. Help me live a life I’m proud of. Help me find my army of fellow madmen and weirdos, so we can join together, in spite of the vortex, and make something amazing, something worth doing for the next 35 years.


Fray

64 Comments

Hey Derek, been following you online for a couple years and have loved your projects (was subscribed to JPG), first time commenting on your site though. Very moving post, pretty much left me speechless. So I wish you all the best and as a show of support I just subscribed to Fray :)

Cheers,
Ben

Posted by Ben Lilley on 16 May 2008 @ 2am

I wish I had the courage to write my own version of this kind of post, it’s highly courageous, and extremely human.

Derek, let me say this, you’re loved, and that’s easily worth an entire 35 years, or even all 70.

Posted by Aaron on 16 May 2008 @ 3am

I don’t know how much this would mean to you, coming from a random subscriber of your blog on the other side of the globe, but the reason I am a subscriber in the first place is because of your inspirational (perhaps also seemingly innate) ability to create something great/beautiful, and because of that, I do believe your plea is not without hope.

Posted by Yazid on 16 May 2008 @ 4am

Oh, Derek. I am so sorry you’re having any bit of difficulty and i wish I had the right words to write here in hopes of making you smile. I don’t. I know the feeling you describe well—that depressed feeling. I wish there were something I could say or do. But I think you’ve touched upon something important here. Many times where I have felt the most depressed and beaten down is when I’ve come up with the best ideas/art projects etc. So keep on creating. You’re entirely too talented not to. And out here, the Internet loves you.

regarding the pregnancy: I have been rooting for you and heather since I first heard the news the first time. I am still rooting for you two. A child would be so lucky to have two parents like you. So lucky. I know it will happen because it has to happen. Keep trying. Keep your head up.

And happy birthday, mister. I say pick up that damn guitar! Fumbling hands or not! Strum!

Posted by mihow on 16 May 2008 @ 4am

Dude,
I don’t know you. I check your site about once every two months or so because at some point your RSS feed landed on my netnewswire. And today I check your URL hoping to find some fresh wisdom about pointing a camera at things I love and instead find this post.

So, but anyway, consider me enlisted in your army of madmen. Things get better. In the meantime, here are a few stanzas to inoculate you against apathy:

Love After Love – Derek Walcott

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

Posted by Jim Willis on 16 May 2008 @ 4am

You don’t know me, so I won’t say too much, but.. it will get better. It always does, but usually not in the way you’re most hoping for.

I am sorry Fray and Pixish have not worked out exactly as planned. Perhaps you are just in the “dip” (as Seth Godin calls it) that follows on from the initial interest but precedes the true, long-lasting success, so I certainly hope you don’t give up or lose the passion for these excellent projects.

Posted by Peter Cooper on 16 May 2008 @ 4am

Happy 35th Birthday, Derek!

I am one of the many followers you have on the internet, a group of people who have been inspired by you and your talents for many years. What you have described is the human experience, especially the part where you say you’re going to keep on fighting. That’s a great attitude to have, even if it feels like an uphill battle the whole way. But you’re a Taurus – being stubborn is just part of who you are.

Fred is a great metaphor for your current experience. He was chopped down so that he could be moved easily. Now he’s sprouting new growth. You have been ‘chopped down’ in a manner of speaking, perhaps so you could be moved easily, too. Just like Fred, you will grow and life will begin again.

The universe is listening to you, Derek. And just know that the internet masses stand behind you and are rooting for you, too.

Posted by diane on 16 May 2008 @ 5am

Hi, Derek. I found your site by accident. Hope this accident may change your sight a little.
Time passes, yeah, that’s truth, but try to see this in other way.

Do you know how many times I feel depressed a day? I have a lot of little annoying things which make me sad. But then, I remembering that our life is still a fight. I think you’re doing well, coz you’re still looking for other challenges. Try to find and list all these things you’re good in and these you’re worse. These are your goals. What more, try to check this site http://www.43things.com .Put them into it and start fighting.

Another thing. Answer yourself some questions:
1. How many people had you helped till this time?
2. When have you told your wife and your children you love them?
3. When does she (your wife) received a flower from you?
4. How many people likes you?
5. How often do you smile?
6. Is there somethin’ you like to do for you?

You’ve said that you’ve tried to play the guitar. I play too and no one said that I play beautiful songs, but it doesn’t matter for me. Sometimes I put my guitar and just play for myself.

I bet you have a talent which you haven’t discovered yet. Everyone has has own. I think the problems isn’t focused on such problems as guitar playing or song writing. It’s deeper. Try to do much more things, interests an so on. You’ll catch that there’s many things you haven’t done yet. This link may help http://www.wikihow.com/Exercise-an-Open-Mind to find more about yourself.

Regards and hope you’ll find your route and remember that there’s a lot of people older than you! So don’t waste your time, try to sleep less and take advantage of your life men.

I keep my fingers crossed

Posted by kotosha on 16 May 2008 @ 5am

Sometimes, it is relieving to sit back, draw yourself away from reality and just let thing go. Trying too hard wipes you out because it never stops bothering you. I ‘m sure you have already tried this, but this is my suggestion anyway.

We all know what you can do, you don’t have to prove us anything. So take your time and do it someday, one day.

Wishing you both the very best. Really.

Posted by porcupine on 16 May 2008 @ 5am

To send some hope your way: I had 3 miscarriages and ended up having healthy twins two years later at the age of 34 – conceived naturally btw.

I admire your determination and creativity and so do many others.

Posted by megan on 16 May 2008 @ 6am

I just wanted to voice my support to you both. I know that vortex all too well. Here’s one weirdo and madwoman willing to sign up to your army.

I am not religious, but I have always liked the phrase, “this too shall pass”.

Posted by Lorissa on 16 May 2008 @ 6am

hi derek. i also don’t know you well enough (and/or at all) to say all the obnoxiously sincere things i’d like to say. so instead i will just say, god, yes, depression sucks and i hope you find your way out. there is a way out that is right for you. and i send you best thoughts.

Posted by emdot on 16 May 2008 @ 6am

as a regular visitor to that well you mention, here’s hoping you find your way back.

Posted by inateapot on 16 May 2008 @ 6am

(((((Derek)))))

Posted by mare on 16 May 2008 @ 6am

Derek, I want to join in the cyber hug fest. You are important to the universe…at least to mine. Between you and Caroline and Jason: I’ve been blogging and creating…it’s been that creative spark and outlet I needed. Even though no one seems to care about my own blog, you have kept me going because you told me it’s okay to be selfish and write this blog no one reads because I need to write it.

I have several friends TTC and having it thrown in their face: so I have an inking of the heartache and know there are never any good words to say.

You are young yet, your life’s work/big splash doesn’t need to be happening right now. Like you said, (and rinse and repeat) live for right now and cherish every moment.

Get well soon…being sick and depressed is not a fun combo.

Posted by Birdy on 16 May 2008 @ 7am

I’ve struggled with this lots in my life. There are many things I’ve done to help with the pain.

1. Plow through it, knowing you’ll emerge on the other side a better person.

2. Let go of the outcome. You really can push yourself to greater heights but not focus so much on the heights yourself. All that matters is that you learned somthing valuable.

3. Go add value to someone else’s life. Volunteer, become a Big Brother or Big Couple to some cool but needy kid. Help out in a soup kitchen. I find that when I help people, the smile comes across my face in a much brighter way.

This is a good start at least. I hope this was helpful.

Hugs.

Posted by Banky on 16 May 2008 @ 7am

I’m sending you good healthy vibrations…but remember you can’t have the highs without the lows.

Posted by Hrag on 16 May 2008 @ 7am

I certainly am familiar with the view from depression. For me it is hard to seperate the pain (dealing with actual loss) from the suffering (the story you start to create “now we’ll never get to…”).
I’m sending a hug and lots of love.

Posted by Halcyon on 16 May 2008 @ 7am

OH DEREK…YOU ARE SO BRAVE!!

There are tons of people out here who think you’re freaking awesome (professionally, creatively, just in general), so don’t forget it.

I so know what you’re saying and remember that you have Heather and each other and what will happen will happen. Just keep loving, baby. Just keep loving…..

Hoping for all the best. Life is really really hard.

Yay brave! Yay Yay Yay!!!

Love wins…..

Posted by Emily on 16 May 2008 @ 7am

It’s the dark night of the soul that will birth the place that you’re looking for. It will be MORE worth it and MORE powerful and MORE yours because you’re not going to settle for less.

You’ve had so much success in your still young life… and you’ll have much more. I, for one, celebrate your pain, because I know what happens on the other side of it. And given all you’ve done thus far, whatever happens next for you is going to be pretty incredible.

Happy birthday.

Posted by Kathy on 16 May 2008 @ 8am

“Everybody cares. Everybody understands. And nobody knows.”

I find these words to be so true they make me want to cry.

From one battle-weary soldier to another, I offer my sincerest hope that your scenery changes soon and you’re able to feel like yourself again. :)

Posted by Katharine on 16 May 2008 @ 8am

Man, I want to reach out and give you a hug and we’ve only met once. This internet racket can suck the life out of you, but there are folks who you never met who are pulling for you.

And I’m ready to work on creating something amazing, so if you need any help, I’ll gladly follow!

Posted by Renaud on 16 May 2008 @ 8am

Gosh sometimes life is so incredibly difficult. I’ve certainly been there in the what can go wrong next and another nightmare ensues. I also know that inspiration is hard to come by. The loss of any dream is difficult to come by. I know because I’ve read you for years that you’ve come out of some incredible holes, regrouped, found tremendous happiness and success. There is no reason why this happened and there is also no reason why you can’t have happiness again. Everything in life is a risk and nothing is more so than having a child and trying to create a life with someone. Sometimes we only see the good side of the “risk” but there is the other side of that it can all be snatched away in a second. Fair/unfair don’t really come into it and neither really does comparing our life to others. Sometimes some of us have to scurry around in the dark place for a while in order to regroup and reinvent ourselves. There’s nothing wrong with that and sometimes those places where nothing absolutely nothing helps are the breakthrough points in our lives to a whole new place of being in existence. Maresie

Posted by Maresie on 16 May 2008 @ 8am

“So if you can find a moment of joy in your life, you hang on to that thing for all it’s worth”

Very wise words. Couldn’t agree more. Keep recognizing those moments, hanging onto them. http://twitter.com/t/statuses/808513960

And *hugs* man.

Posted by Tantek on 16 May 2008 @ 9am

Some dude recently took a picture of a plant that was totally chopped down to the base. Apparently it’s sprouting again… Fred = Hope.

Posted by Stef Noble on 16 May 2008 @ 9am

Hi Derek, and congrats. Better late than never.

I found this post of yours quite sobering, considering we are about the same age for a matter of months. I just can’t imagine what going through two miscarriages is like, but I do already know what it is to lose a loved being (my father) and my dogs, and it is probably equally as sorrowful and life-draining.

So, if we get to learn anything from living three decades in this world so far, it probably is that none of us is immune to life’s problems, no matter how wealthy and/or lucky you are. It comes with the package, so to speak, and will show their ugly heads when you least expect it. I wish I could change a lot of things I see around and in the world that I don’t like, but with age you come to realize that the only thing I *can* truly change is my attitude towards the curveballs life constantly throws at me. Sounds so simple, yet it’s so hard to learn. But that’s what pretty much sums up life for me.

And chin up, man. Have a group hug, and happy 35th!

Posted by beto on 16 May 2008 @ 9am

Obviously I don’t know you, so I hope you wont mind this unsolicited advice.

St. John’s Wort has worked wonders for me with both depression and anxiety. You do have to take it about four weeks for the full effect, but for me it was worth it. I take it in capsule form, but you can also buy it as a tea or as tincture. AS far as I know, the only side effect can be a sensitivity to sunlight but since I’m so pale skinned that I border on translucence, I’m already pretty careful of my skin.

Happy 35. I’ll be 33 in a couple of months and sometimes I still feel like I’m still a gawky twelve year old.

Posted by Stephanie on 16 May 2008 @ 10am

But think of what you have: a great wife, a great community of friends and followers, a history of successes and creativity the envy of most of the rest of us, a voice, and at times, the energy to make great things happen.

Depression sucks but you have the skills, intelligence and support to look at it differently and make it not suck and when you see that it doesn’t suck it’s over.

35… man, you’re just getting warmed up, life will be good again, very soon. The great thing about 35 is that you’ve had enough experience so you’ve gathered some wisdom and you have the brain cells left to remember it. Of course, at the ripe age of 56, I can’t remember what I can’t remember. Life is good, I think.

Happy Birthday.

Posted by Richard on 16 May 2008 @ 10am

Derek;

Happy Birthday and every encouragement to keep your head up, keep seeking out beautiful experiences and keep creating beautiful things. I’ve been keeping an eye on what you and Heather do, off-and-on, for years and I don’t think I’ve read about many people having as challenging a past 365 days as you both. But I’m continually impressed with how many ideas you try out, even if they end under less than pleasant circumstances.

It’s your sheer inventiveness and “dammit, I’m getting up the mountain” approach that I and I suspect many other find inspiring in our own lives. Because we’re working at being inventive and getting up our own mountains. Sometimes just watching someone else keep going in a difficult moment is all we need to keep going ourselves. We keep going and in doing so, let others know it’s possible.

Back in 2001, during the Calif. AIDS Ride, hills and distance were kicking my ass and I found it a bit dispiriting. There was a rider from Rocklin, hand-cycling and kicking the route’s ass. Just seeing someone, whose life I could not pretend to know or comprehend, going beyond what I felt myself capable with less physical advantage than I had was incredibly moving. And it kept me going.

I hope you find your way out of your funk. I certainly hope we can return the favor of your determined example with our own.

Posted by Nathan L. Walls on 16 May 2008 @ 10am

I’ve been to the well too. Sometimes by myself sometimes watching as those around me go. I know there’s nothing that can be said but I hope you take heart from all the people who are struggling for the right words anyway.

Posted by Stephanie on 16 May 2008 @ 10am

i wish i were half as brave as you, derek. keep writing. keep trying. keep hoping.
xoxo

Posted by erin power on 16 May 2008 @ 11am

Reading this, like those before me, I had to emerge from “lurker” status. There’s not much to add to all of the wonderful things people have been saying.

But you should know a couple things:

1. I check your website almost as regularly as I check the news, and I usually come out the better for having visited it. Also, yours is the only one I still regularly visit after more than a couple of years.

2. You continue to inspire me with your ideas and projects. In all seriousness, I would love to be involved . (I am a fairly adept programmer, and am employed full-time, but would work on the side for sweat equity, or perhaps even rice or gasoline). I don’t really expect to hear back from you, but thought I’d make the offer anyway. You never know. I think I’d enjoy working with you.

3. Although I’m gonna hear about it from my wife, I just subscribed to Fray; something I’d been wanting to do for a while, but kept putting off.

Be well. I turned 40 last month and it wasn’t very pretty either.

Posted by Michael Craig on 16 May 2008 @ 11am

I have rarely read a father’s point of view on miscarriages- thanks for sharing your perspective and honesty. I’m really sorry this happened to you both and I wish you peace. Depression is a bitch because it makes you not want to do anything to distract yourself which is even more depressing. A big, sad Catch-22. I find walking and talking are two of the only things that pull me out. Good luck and keep writing.

Posted by kimblahg on 16 May 2008 @ 12pm

i know. and because i know all i can say is you are not alone – ever.

light up the dark

Posted by ywinchell on 16 May 2008 @ 12pm

I’ve been to the well, too… and sometimes it’s my three year-old who drives me there. Nothing anyone’s ever said to me has been able to pull me out, but as you say, something you’re excited about absolutely can. So while there’s nothing I can say, I will certainly pray that the most awesome exciting thing comes your way. (I didn’t mean for that to rhyme.)

xoxoxo

Posted by Lori on 16 May 2008 @ 12pm

I have been there and I hear you. My life has improved a million percent since moving to california but i still have those bouts of depression that sits like a lead weight on my chest. as i get older, it seems to come less, thankfully. maybe it’s just an acceptance of things as they are.

i also have to tell you, i am a miracle baby. my mom had me at 43 because she had countless miscarriages, a stillbirth and a preemie. i was named after the preemie who died after 7 days. so anything is possible.

because my chances of ever having kids (i don’t have a partner, nor do i expect to have one anytime soon) is slipping away, i often think that someday i will adopt. I am not interested in a baby, but rather an older child who needs a good home and a good mom. I think this would make me as happy as having one of my own, and not stretch my junk out in the process.

i just said that last part to make you laugh. :)

happy birthday!

Posted by lane hartwell on 16 May 2008 @ 12pm

Hi Derek! First of all… Happy Birthday, buddy! I hope your celebrations continue throughout this beautiful weekend.

As for where you’re at, thank you so much for sharing. Life definitely hits us with some serious challenges at times. ug. :/ But, I love your candid honesty. It’s so refreshing to hear someone lay it out so real and, as you well know, can be cathartic to just get it out and tell it like it is. Kind of like you don’t always have to smile for the camera. ;)

I’ve always been completely amazed & inspired by all of your endeavors & creativity (both of you). I will keep you in my thoughts, and sending you two big bear hugs of love & support.

xo
w

Posted by willo on 16 May 2008 @ 1pm

Derek,

Well, let me wish you a happy birthday. You are still a youngin’ (says this recently turned 38 y.o.). I’m sorry you’re struggling with depression; I’ve been there and it’s horrible. I want to have children, too, only my husband is not on board. I feel like time is running out. I hope you and Heather get some good news soon. All the best to you.

Posted by Mari on 16 May 2008 @ 2pm

Hey.

You give me hope.

So.

Ok?

Let’s leave the bucket at the bottom of the well.

Again.

And trudge back to town.

Again.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=az0Vlexcxek

Posted by Daniel Miller on 16 May 2008 @ 3pm

Happy Birthday, Derek!

Thanks for sharing. Am sure things will definitely be better for you in the next 35 years.

Posted by Isaak Kwok on 16 May 2008 @ 4pm

Happy Birthday, Derek. As another May birthday-haver, I’m right there with you on not being up to celebrating, this year. I hope life starts treating you better, and soon. You deserve it.

Posted by alice on 16 May 2008 @ 4pm

I know the vortex you speak of. For the past 15 years it has been sucking me in and spitting me out at will. Some days are worse than others. Some days you find a way out of the ‘funk’ with a flicker of an idea, other days… you are stuck, being sucked down deeper and deeper until the light at the end of that tunnel is all but extinguished.

This, my friend, will pass. It may take longer than the last time the vortex came calling, but it will pass. Keep your chin up, and this time, it’s ok to go into this light.

Breathe deeply, exhale slowly. Take time to stare out at nothing and clear your mind. The worst thing you can do is think about it too much, that will take you to places you don’t want to go (speaking from experience).

Try anything new to break your funk. Walk, ride a bike, run through the waves on the beach, sit in the park and watch the people, find someone that has always made you laugh and spend time with them… laugh until you cry.

And, if worse comes to worse… write it out.

These are all the things I have experience with when dealing with the vortex. A daily struggle for me.

And if you ever need a random laugh, just let me know. I’m always doing stupid stuff to crack people up!

Take care and remember to breathe
:)

Posted by Michele on 16 May 2008 @ 6pm

I am so sorry Derek for you and Heather.

As for the vortex, the funk, the black dog, call it what you will, I like to think of it of the flip side of living an unanaesthetized and creative life. You can live a life of Guitar Hero, American Idol, Coors, Applebees, SUVs, Multiplexes, Disneyland and Target and you might be ‘perfectly happy’ – or you can strive to create. You, like all interesting people, are the latter and the cost can be depressing when you feel like that creative process isn’t working. Keep the faith.

Posted by Martin Taylor on 17 May 2008 @ 6am

You’re having a hard go of it: no doubt. I offer you and your wife my condolences.
I’m well acquainted with the vortex of which you speak. It is seductive. It is captivating. It is beautiful in some ways. It can be deadly.
I hope you will find your way through. I’m still searching (have been all my life) and I’m still hoping.
Try to hold on to that hope. Even if you get to the point where all you have left is hope. Try to hold on. It’s worth the effort in the end.
Pax,
N

Posted by Nelson on 17 May 2008 @ 2pm

My heart missed a beat when I read your post.
I’m so sorry.
Life is such a bitch.
L

Posted by Louise on 17 May 2008 @ 3pm

Yo Derek! Not much philosophical to say that hasn’t been said. Just that I’m here and I hear ya.

Noah

Posted by Noah on 17 May 2008 @ 4pm

first off – happy birthday old man!

i am glad to hear that despite your suffering that your outlook is rooted in optimism. it damn well should be.

you are married to a beautiful person (love to meet heather some day), you are smart, talented, secure, healthy, not being shot at, well fed…. you know this list. it’s a long one.

i suffer with you on the struggle to get to parenthood. it took us ten years. keep trying. get there naturally or make room in your heart for someone else’s little soul that needs you.

in the meantime, go volunteer at a school, hold preemies in a maternity ward, or clinic. don’t shy away from those kids you see in the playground b/c you feel cheated of your own. join the party. go teach an art class to 5 year olds – you may decide the whole parenting thing is insane :-) (joke said with much love).

oh, and the freak army awaits you. failing in a business venture is a HUGE asset; you will see. those that sailed to success without weathering heavy storms, well they didn’t ever really get to see what they were made of… you’re in it now my friend. hold on.

Posted by pfm on 17 May 2008 @ 4pm

Good morning and much (belated) love and wishes on your birthday. I, too, wish I could give you words of advice that worked, but I can tell you that I understand so much….

For me, I simply am saying “screw it” to what people say and think because I am learning….at 40….that if I am true to what I am passionate about, that my depressive spells are less and less….

Posted by Deb on 18 May 2008 @ 7am

I think the beauty (and the shitty thing when you’re not feeling it) is that we all get a chance to try again. Happy Birthday. Here is to unbridled happiness and joy.

Posted by C on 18 May 2008 @ 8am

Hi Derek,
you don’t know me and I don’t really know you either.
But you inspire me. Your photography hangs, framed, on my wall. Right beside where I sit.
even when you’re depressed, your work lifts people up.
hope you’re lifted up soon too :)

Posted by melanie on 18 May 2008 @ 2pm

I look at your life – your accomplishments, the courage to bring so much creativity to the world, to create things from nothing and sing about them, to bring people together for a creative purpose and to keep at – and I feel compelled to do more, to do SOMETHING that will add to any current of conversation. It’s brave, what you do. It’s not a chuck on the chin that I’m saying this. I’m saying that I get honest inspiration from you. Your contributions matter.

I know, I really know, this can’t break through a cloud of depression, but I felt compelled to tell you.

I wish you the best and continued bravery, creativity and hope.

Posted by Megan on 19 May 2008 @ 7am

I am Jack’s profound deluge of sympathy.

It takes either courage, perseverance or intense stupidity to keep trying in the face of tragic failure.

Cheers to the ongoing determinedly brave fatuity.

Posted by Joel on 19 May 2008 @ 8am

years ago, the fray was what first showed me what the internet was all about. quite recently, the fray showed me where the internet could go. today, i read your post and i was shaken.
having been down there myself and having someone very close struggling hard right now, i know there’s nothing really helpful a stranger like me could say. what i have to say, nevertheless: that you found the strength to tell us, to tell your fellow madmen about the sadness in your life, the words you found and the power they convey – all that is another gift to a universe that is listening to you. you’re not alone, since we ain’t. thanks, e.g., to you.
happy birthday, dude.

Posted by Wolfgang on 19 May 2008 @ 1pm

Derek,

Count me in your army of madmen. What you’ve done is inspiring.

Posted by pfong on 20 May 2008 @ 7pm

I’m pretty sure I purchased property in the vortex, back in about ‘85. As others have said, it’s a wily, self-fulfilling place that’s tricky to escape and FUCK ME, it’s cold there.

My very, very favourite piece of advice from my mum is “just do the next thing.”

Posted by George on 20 May 2008 @ 10pm

I figure your vortex must be located somewhere out here in the swamp. I haven’t seen your particular vortex, but I know how hard it is to find your way out of the darkness. If it helps, remember that while you’re not exactly where you thought you would be, your journey has taken you some amazing places. I expect that you are going to find a lot more incredible places down the road.

Thank you for letting us come along and share a little of your journey.

Posted by Zazzy on 21 May 2008 @ 10pm

Derek, thanks so much for sharing! I don’t want to sound like “I know whast you’re going through” because truth is, I can only imagine. But I do imagine it must hurt like hell. Usually when there is a loss like this people tend to forget that it is not just the woman who suffers, the other parent suffers too, and I am glad that you were able to share this with the internet. As for being 35, dude! You have your whole life in front of you, please don’t wallow in self pity, 35 is the new 25, no? Anyway, I hope you are feeling better. Here’s a cyber-hug for you.

Posted by Florencia on 23 May 2008 @ 2pm

You’ve been an inspiration to your readers (dare I say fans?) for years, I know you’ll get out of this funk and do it again, with all the good you’ve done around you, this shit can’t last.

My thoughts are with you and Heather.

Posted by Patrick on 25 May 2008 @ 10am

heya! i met you in cardiff at the BBC conference on Digital Storytelling a few years back. You held a Fray Cafe there.. is was so much fun! i heard a crazy story about a guy who pulled an enormous tropical worm out of his bum, and i told a story about cocktails. and i still think about that hilarious event, and the lack of pretension and the creative fun buzz… and of course i remember that it was because of you.

jim willis above posted the derek walcott poem, i second that notion. you’ll find yourself again.

the crappy thing is… when you’re down it’s hard to remember anything else but your pain is real.

i just wanted to send you a memo from ireland to tell you hello… and i wish you and your wife all the best wishes and thoughts.

so glad you could write about it here, and i hope it helped you out.

Posted by heather on 26 May 2008 @ 3pm

I am touched, not just by the honest and forthright expression of emotional and spiritual struggle here, but also by all of the heart-warming comments left by everyone.

There are so many people that have been where you are, Derek. I know I have. Your struggle is universal even if the exact circumstances are uniquely your own.

All I can say is don’t give up. Know that you have already touched so many lives with your art, your openness, your generosity. When you make it through all of the soul-brutalizing circumstances you are experiencing now the light will shine that much brighter for you. As the saying goes “waiting is the hardest part” but be assured: good things will happen to you and yours.

Peace.

Posted by Daniel Markham on 28 May 2008 @ 3pm

I’m late, but happy 35th year on Earth.

This post really touched something deep. Why don’t you write? Professionally? You have the talent to hold people to their seats with your words. Use it and write something beautiful.

And once again, happy belated birthday wishes. From a long time admirer of your skills.

Posted by Indranil on 11 June 2008 @ 12am

Derek, thank you for having the courage and clarity to share this. My best thoughts are with you.

Posted by Allison Landa on 11 June 2008 @ 8am

was recently talking with my uncle’s brother who underwent radiation and chemotherapy for cancer of the mouth a few years back. the cancer’s in remission now, thank goodness, but he was telling me how, when he was undergoing treatment, he once told his doctor, ‘i just don’t know if this is worth it.’ and his doctor said, ‘well, we’ll see. if you wake up tomorrow morning, we’ll know it was.’ and he said, ‘okay.’ and he DID wake up the next morning. then the next. and then the next. until finally, the cancer was gone.

as cliche as it might sound, it really is about taking it one day at a time. i wish you both the best on the second half of your journey.

Posted by inacrumbling on 29 June 2008 @ 7am

I know. Yes, I think some people do know through experience. I lost a baby on my birthday many years ago. I don’t forget. I know. The way I think about it now is that it taught me to appreciate what’s already in my life even while feeling unbelievably sad and lonely. Work on that. Then your losses perhaps, while incredibly sad, will not be in vain. I celebrate my lost one on my birthday (and actually everyday) by keeping close those already in my life. When I hear the words Happy Birthday now, I think about how lucky I am to have those people in my life and how lucky I am that we are all able to have another birthday.
So, Happy Birthday to you…a little late.

Posted by Carole Carter on 28 July 2008 @ 2pm