Depression: The Struggle (Work In Progress)

Chapter 1: Early Childhood

I was born in the early 80's in the south. The times seemed so much simpler then. At times, I think back to those days and laugh. These days, we can't imagine a day without our "modern technology". These days we cannot seem to live without the internet, cell phones, and HD televisions. It is all so fascinating.

Back in those days, some of us were lucky if we had basic cable, much less thousands of channels at our fingertips. How interesting it is that we can't seem to find anything to watch, but I digress. To say things were simple when I was born would be an understatement.

I was born in a somewhat small city, the population being near 100,000, but not an extravagant one. I was blessed to be born into a loving Christian family. My mother and father, who had married a few years before I came along, lived at my paternal grandmother's house. It was a very modest beginning to life.

I wouldn't necessarily classify it as poor, but it was certainly a struggle. At times we were on food stamps, and we never really had much extra. We had enough to have food on our table and paid bills. Beyond that...not so much. One thing we certainly had was love and lots of family.

On each side of our house lived relatives, along with a few extended relatives in the neighborhood. Our house was the second-to-last on the street with my aunt and uncle in the last. On the opposite side was a cousin's house.

One of the few memories I have before becoming of school age was of a picture my parents took of me in front of a small tree at my aunt and uncle's house. I was probably about three at the time. My first sibling would come that winter, my brother Anthony.

I grew to be a quiet kid. When I wasn't in school, my time was spent playing either with my Nintendo or playing in the neighborhood until the sun went down. My, how the times have changed. Our parents didn't have to worry about us playing outside all day, and we loved it.

It was playing outside that introduced me to my first love, football. We'd often have neighborhood games of football. Those were the best. Being extremely short, speed became my biggest asset.

In school, I was a very shy and quiet child that managed to maintain excellent grades. I made the honor roll without once missing it all the way until I reached high school.

My elementary school just so happened to be next to our street, which made it pretty easy if I forgot something or needed anything from home. My first few years of school are pretty much a blur to me. Memories seem to be quite a bit of a casualty in my later blockage of certain things. It is, at times, quite unfortunate. I remember nothing at all from kindergarten, and the only thing I recall from first grade, outside of my teacher's last name was that I ended up with perfect attendance during a year that our teachers went on-strike for, what I'd presume, a raise in salary. Second grade would become a blur in my memory also, outside of the day I saw our assistant principal walking the school yard while eating an orange, rind all all. If I had a guess, the oddity of the site of him eating the rind is the only reason I remember that.

Third grade seems to be where a good chunk of my childhood memory remained. I met several classmates that I'd eventually graduate with. As stated, my school was on the street next to our street. I gained a little popularity when my mom would toss a football over our fence and we'd be able to play during recess with my football. It was also during this year that I'd meet my first best friend. He was really the only friend I had, at the time, that didn't live in my neighborhood. Unfortunately, he and his family would move out of state the next year.

Little did I know that would become a theme in my life, one that didn't help the issue I'd have later on. Naturally, I was sad. For a shy, quiet kid like me to make a friend and become close was difficult. To have him move away the year after would prove even harder.

In this case, it was remedied hanging out with my friends from the neighborhood. Between school, Nintendo, football, family, tag, and whatever else we did, I was pretty occupied to think about it too long.

Fourth grade would pretty much go the same way for me. It would be another year of honor roll, football, Nintendo, etc. Monday through Friday was spent in school, Saturday was a free day of play, and Sunday was church and then play. The only out of the ordinary occurance from that were daily headaches I'd have in the spring all the way up until school ended.

My teacher kept a cold classroom. We'd go out to play in the extreme heat of a southern day for recess. Going back to the extreme cold of the classroom would result in said headache every day. Fortunately, it didn't affect my happy-go-lucky attitude I had as a kid or my grades.

That is mostly all I can recall from my elementary school days, aside from my absolute favorite times of the day. That time just so happened to be when my dad got off of work. Football being my favorite sport, my dad would toss the "old pigskin" with me for a while before he went in and relaxed. I cherished those times. My dad always worked hard to support the growing family. At this time there were five of us. It was tough, but we made it work. The house was small, my brother and I sharing a tiny bedroom that was only big enough to fit one twin-sized bed. In March of my fourth-grade year, we'd welcome another member of the arrival of my brother, Michael.  We weren't rich, but we didn't care, though. We had food, a roof over our heads, family, and love.

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I'm not sure how long my chapters will be, but I'm just getting my feet wet here. Sorry if I jump around a little bit from time to time, but I tend to have a little A.D.D. when writing. I'm doing this as I go, so no pre-writing for me.

Anyway, I'm not sure when I'll be adding the next chapter, but feel free to comment or message me and let me know what you think. I'm always open to constructive criticism.