And The Cat Came Back, . . .

Well, that didn't take long.

Exactly 7 days was all my sister could manage.

It seems Aya did not take well to her  new owner, or at least not as well as we had hoped that she would, and so Aya is comfortably and happily back home with me.

My sister will look after Aya for the 6 or 7 weeks that I am away, and I am quite certain that will be chock full of interesting tales, but I am also pretty happy with that.

It was only a week, but I missed the little bug.

Come next March-April I am going to have to revisit the whole new-home-for-Aya thing if I follow through with my travel plans, but until then we are both much happier with Aya being right here at home with me.
I know it's not completely uncommon, but the silly little critter loves playing fetch with me, constantly bringing me something to throw - when she's in the mood, of course.

So, life here at casa-Enberg is back as it should be, and all is once again right in my world.

Let me mention Friday - my retire-from-work day.

It started at St. Pius X High School where I was once again invited to speak to a class of grade 11 Law students. The announced reason for my being a guest speaker has always been the same over the past 8 years: "Joe is going to share with you his experiences with the legal system."

I have never failed to be unexpected. To give the kids more.

This time though, it was off the charts. I don't know if I went in with a different mind-set due to it being an already significant day in my life, or if it was simply the way it was supposed to be, but the engagement with those kids was so close, so life-to-life that it left me a little awestruck. And very, very grateful.

I spent most of my allotted speaking time encouraging this class of bright young future leaders to find someone to talk to.

About the dark places in their lives.
About the stuff they are not talking to anyone about.

And I used my past as the backdrop.
Alcoholism. Drug addiction. Criminal activity. Jails. Homelessness.

Heavy prices to pay for keeping the dark stuff a secret.
For being scared to name the monster - whatever it may look like.

I wish that I could somehow impart to you as you  read this the feelings that I experienced as I saw that glimmer in her eye, or that pique of interest in his face as we engaged in a back and forth of question and answer.

I think I have found something that I am every bit as passionate about as I am about adventure motorcycle riding.

Sharing my story with our youth.

It was such an incredible way to start my last day of work, and I thank God for the continued opportunities.

I left St. Pius X at noon, feeling full and empty at the same time. Both invigorated and exhausted.

I drove to Shepherds, parked my car and knew as I was walking through the parking lot that it was going to be a short and emotional visit.

I spent the next hour making the rounds and saying so-long to the myriad people who have touched and impacted my life in that environment of mixed feelings and conflicting personas.

I will remember my days spent at the Shepherds of Good Hope for the rest of my life. Most of them, quite fondly.

I don't think you can ask for more than that.


Now, a final piece of housekeeping. I am going to be traveling a lot this summer and with my travels come all of the expected - and many unexpected experiences. Which, of course, I will be writing and blogging about.

The problem is, I am currently trying to keep two blogs current! And as you have noted over the years - I suck at it.

So - if I may ask - please make a note of my other blog on the ADVJOE website:

http://advjoe.ca/blog/

I will be keeping that one up-to-date on a regular basis as I travel, and I will be treating it as my blog, not just advjoe's blog. The type of stuff that I write here, I will be writing there. So if you are, for some unknown reason still following me here (and I really hope that you are, my faithful few), well, now you have somewhere else to follow me.

This is starting to sound like a Genesis song. . .(or the best Cineplex ad they have ever come up with - remember the one with the young girl, the snow man and the freezer?)

Ok. It is now the first Wednesday - I can no longer call it hump day - of the season of my contentment. I think that means I have to shower today,. . .or shave, . . or something . . .

Later folks,

There was Darkness. . .

Something happened in the fall of 2015 that I never considered possible.

Something so completely out of my left field that had you told me in August that it was coming, I would have laughed out loud.

It is pretty apparent, I believe, that I am a generally happy guy.

Gregarious, some may say.

And why not? I have a lot to be happy about - and grateful for, after all.

Early one morning in late September of 2015, I noticed it was gone.

The happy, easy-to-get-along-with Joe was nowhere to be found.

I was spending way more time than usual 'taking naps'

My bikes sat in the garage through the entirety of the week, and sometimes all weekend long as well.

The things in my life that used to bring me joy, weren't.

Whaddafuk?

It all came to a glaring point for me at 0635 one morning as I was pulling into the parking lot at work and verbally snapped at a client who was not following my direction.

Like I am some kind of authority or some shit.

15 minutes later I was in the HR office asking for the contact information for our EAP, or Employee Assistance Program.

By the end of the day I had an appointment set up.

By the end of the next day I had been diagnosed as suffering from depression.

I'm sorry, what?

Me? Depression? Not friggen' likely. No way. Uhn uh.

That mysterious ailment afflicts other people. People less happy than I am. But not me.

No way it had hit me.

Boy, had it ever hit me.

And everything that I had ever heard about depression proved true: you do not see it coming, you do not acknowledge that it is here and you do not have the energy to do a fucking thing about it on your own.

At least, those were all true for me.

Thank God that I just followed my gut and contacted EAP that morning.

I ended up having to take some time off work, and I attended therapy regularly and followed all of the suggestions given me by my therapist.

And not too much later I was able to return to work.

What a strange, heavy dark cloud it was that had settled over me for a time.

It seems that I had some unresolved issues surrounding grief.

Feelings that I neglected to talk about or share with the people that I love and trust.

Feelings that I had just tried to stuff, or ignore.

Man, you would think that a guy with my past, with my fairly deep understanding of the benefits of talking about what is going in in my life would have done just that.

It is the centre-point of recovery for gods sake!

But I hadn't. Or at least, not enough.

So the message for me - and maybe for you as well - is that I really do need to talk about the things that are going on in my life. Not just the good stuff, or the exciting stuff.

But the shitty stuff too.

The things that pain my heart deserve to be spoken, and I deserve to heal.

I am one of the truly lucky ones. I mean that. I am really, really fortunate.

My dark cloud lifted, and it did so very quickly. If I had to guess, I would say that I truly suffered for no more than 8 weeks.

I came away from the experience with a deeper understanding of depression, and a much greater understanding of how debilitating it is.

I also came away from the experience reminded of something: it is vital, for my well being, that I try to remain grateful every day of my life. And when I feel like things are going shitty, if I simply remember how grateful I am that I did not have to use today, the shittyness seems less significant.

If you, or someone you love suffers from depression please reach out and speak to someone. As the saying goes, the life you save just may be your own.

Peace,