Body surfing and depression

This is the awesome post I was looking for last time.

I like waves. I like beaches with waves. I really enjoy 4 footers that have a nice barrel and roll toward the shore as they crash. Ones that crash on the shore are undesirable for a number of reasons. 

Miami and the Caribbean had none. By way of a desired beach experience, this majorly sucked. 

When I get in the water, I want to body surf. I want to start swimming toward shore as the wave is coming toward me, before it breaks. I want the wave to overtake me at the Right Time–a rather difficult task–and allow me to ride it as it begins to crest and take it all the way in to shore. 

That’s the ideal. 

Reality is far different. Reality is treading water or toe-tapping until a good wave comes, ducking under or trying to go over waves as they pass or crash on me. 

Reality is mistiming most waves and it traveling fast than me and going under my frantically swimming body. Reality is mistiming the wave and it crashing on me, driving me into the sandy bottom (wet sand is hard, btw), then churning me in the whirlpool that happens beneath the surface. 

Reality hurts. Reality is being physically beaten most of the time. Reality is occasionally getting a nice ride and being triumphant afterward. 

But I rarely recall the reality when I go. I remember only the good rides. I am sore afterward, but it feels good. It’s something I enjoy and is a price I’m willing to pay. 

In the midst of depression, I remember and focus only on getting pounded. I don’t remember the good runs. I don’t remember the times I succeeded. I don’t exult in the good runs; I wish there were more because the trade off is too costly. 

The difference isn’t in the percentage of good v. bad times. It’s in my attitude. It’s in how I view things. I want to always choose how I view things, but sometimes I need help. Sometimes I need others out in the waves with me, providing a different perspective. 

Without waves, there is no fun. Without perspective, even the causes of the fun can be interpreted wrong. 

About the author: Lee J

Lee J Hinkle spends his days writing video game code. It was never a job he expected to have. Check out Rogue Invader online. Any search will send you to the right spot. Unless the language is foreign. Then maybe 50% will be right. He tries to be a devout member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and hopes his Father recognizes his efforts.