Happy Spring from Yuma, AZ! The desert is in bloom: so much yellow just like back at home with the daffodils. Yellow flowers herald the arrival of spring. I’m feeling the best I have in a long time. I’m thankful to be here. I was struck with bouts of intense suicidal periods last year. It got to the point I had to negotiate with myself to just last until we made it to the desert - I told myself "I can die in the desert." By the time we arrived in the deserts of New Mexico and Arizona in January, the bout of depression was beginning to subside. I made it through it thanks to the correct medications and my therapists new and old.

When I’m depressed, I just want my bed and to be in a dark cocoon of my own making but it can’t really happen now that we’re living small and mobile. Matthew and I share such a small space that the bed has to be put away as soon as we’re up so we can reclaim the living room from the bedroom. That’s not conducive to my desire to lay in bed all day wishing for the time to fly by as it drags on.

I’ve heard depression is a choice. I feel like I slipped into it. Did I make that choice all those years ago when I would stay up late, scared to death of dying in my sleep, murdered by Freddy Kruger? The deep dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep on my pale face made me appear sickly. (Non-depression segue: Nightmare on Elm Street is one of the best horror movies of all time - change my mind). Or was it when I would fantasize about killing myself and imagine people being shocked at my funeral? I’ve had these self hatred thoughts since I can remember. A constant companion there to remind me in my loneliness that I’m the reason for everything bad that’s happened to me. Did I finally decide to become this level of depressed when I saw my future laid out in front of me and I hated it? I felt inauthentic. Living in the last bits of the middle class while the world suffered wasn’t for me.

I felt a twang of intuition in my gut and knew everything had to change. But change is f-ing hard!

Not only is my depression making me question myself and all of my life decisions but the she-beast sucks the pleasure out of what I find the most fun: adventure and spontaneity. I feared not knowing where we would sleep and she stole my creativity to brainstorm ideas for destinations. I actively questioned the purpose of our existence in this stressful and hard lifestyle as well as the purpose of life in general. What’s the point of living, eating, bathing when I’m a speck of dust waiting to be buried and forgotten in the depths of time?

I have to share this Dark Humor Antidote - the suicide prevention hotline hung up on me when I was at one of my lowest moments. In the car ride over to our best friends’ house at the beginning of our mobile life adventure, I was actively willing myself to not open the passenger door and jump out of the car on the expressway. My suicidal thoughts had increased to an unbearable level due to starting a new anti-depressant. Please take this antidote as a warning to watch out for friends and family starting new medications. The side effects listed in the commercials are real and can happen to anyone. Once we reached our destination, I dialed the hotline. After being on hold for 5 minutes waiting to be connected to “someone in my area”, the line disconnected. It made me laugh, a hard and jaded croak full of irony. I wasn’t even worth saving, the she-beast reminded me. I said this to Matthew and he told me directly that I was worth saving and he’s right there for me. Luckily, I had a great support system in him and our friends. I was able to find comfort in their company and pushed past those suicidal thoughts. I got used to the new medication and the suicidal thoughts subsided.

Oh, I’ve almost forgot the lynx. Before we left Lake Mittry, I was driving back to our free camping spot enjoying the freedom of the road and our amazing car. I felt the sudden need to slow down so I did. Once my silent car came to a complete stop, a lynx walked from canal side of the gravel road to the large grasslands on my right. She stalked confidently across the road without even looking both ways before crossing. Her body was sleek and graceful, glistening in the afternoon sun. I noticed the long tuffs of hair at the tips of her ears. My jaw dropped and all I could do is follow her with my eyes. I just couldn’t believe them.

To answer the question in my subtitle: I think she crossed the road for water because water is life but it’s her secret to keep.

Depression as a whole is debilitating. I have to doubt my own thoughts and be wary of the negative thought cancer that quickly colonizes my mind with hateful tumors. It’s a lifetime of work and some days I doubt I’m up for the long haul. I will keep pushing those she-beast thoughts away and continue to heal. Matthew is a constant source of love and resilience. He is a daily inspiration. I also found a new therapist via BetterHelp to regularly check in with, even from the road! My depressed moods come from the lack of confidence I have in my ideas or desires. I haven’t been a trustworthy person to myself. I haven't kept promises to myself but I now see that I am in control of my fate. We all are. Isn’t that a scary thought?