Anxiety and Depression

By Tom Neal
Bigfoot Trails Basecamp | Independent Adventure Media

I know this is a bit off topic for this site, but I promise it will tie in with travel and adventure.

A few years back, I started my struggle with anxiety and depression. It just added onto the PTSD I had already been battling. This is very difficult to actually talk about because I was raised that, as a man, we don't discuss feelings, we don't show our weaknesses, and we sure as fuck don't show our demons.

I have only shared my PTSD problems with a handful of people, and I will not be sharing that on the internet. But I will talk about the anxiety and depression because I feel this ties in pretty well with the travel side of things.

About eight years ago, I started to really struggle with this disorder, but I had felt it coming on for over a decade. In the early years, I still did some drag racing, car builds, and a little travel, so I was very occupied and focused on things.

After we became "empty nesters" and the kids moved out of the house, we sold our house and a lot of our belongings, set off on our Mid-Life Crisis Cross-Country Road Trip, then moved to Lake Havasu, Arizona, and thought the next chapter in our lives was going to be an epic dream come true.

Well, it turned out to be my nightmare.

Don't get me wrong. A number of good things have happened since then, but NOTHING has gone to plan.

First off, the move to Havasu turned into a move back to Washington. After we got home, it was supposed to be temporary, six to nine months.

I traded off my dream dually truck for a Kia for my wife. She loves her Sorento.

I have bounced around with jobs a bit, started my own business AGAIN, and failed AGAIN. Five times.

Only to land at a job that I dread going to every day and would rather stab myself in the dick, to be perfectly honest, all because I make a good paycheck. If I switch industries, I cut my pay in half.

So here I am, online, writing about my adventures in life in hopes of gaining a few followers and maybe getting a chance to work with sponsors or affiliates so I can earn a little extra side coin.

Now, before I write too much negative shit and have another complete mental breakdown like I experienced last night, I'll tell you about some of the good things that happened in the same time frame. Things that initially delayed, and then eventually killed off, the plan of going back to the desert.

First off, my daughter got married. Delay number one.

Then she had a kid. Delay number two.

My son got married. Delay number three.

My parents invested in a piece of land that we, as a family, will transform into a family park and "permanent residence."

Bye-bye, desert.

Nothing "bad" happened to turn that dream around. I just feel like I failed again at achieving yet another dream.

You see, we all look at things differently in life. My wife is super excited about everything that happened above. And while I am happy about it all, like I said, I feel defeated.

I had grand ideas of how to make the desert work, but I can't make that happen up here in Washington.

See, my passion revolves around vehicles. Custom vehicles, to be precise.

Yes, you see custom vehicles in Washington, but not like you do in Arizona and Southern California. Up here, it's a hobby. Something you put in the garage and pull out when there is a ZERO percent chance of anything happening—rain, dust, pollen, sneezes, whatever.

Down in the desert, it's more of a lifestyle.

I know I can make a living doing what I love there. Around here, there's not really much chance. If I had a shit ton of money to start with, I could possibly survive, but down there, I KNOW I could thrive.

Shit.

Totally got off topic.

Maybe I should change this to ADHD or squirrel.

So how do I attempt to deal with anxiety and depression?

Well, I went through a year and a half of different medications and such. Some were okay, most weren't. One made me a zombie, one made me suicidal, and one made me homicidal.

I'm just glad I have enough wits about me to combat the suicidal and homicidal thoughts. The reason behind that is a whole-nother topic for a different day.

Anyway, I finally got myself off the meds altogether because I didn't really notice a lot of good coming from them.

What helps me most is getting away from reality.

Getting out and traveling.

Even just day trips or weekend trips on the bike alone. Actually, those do real well for me.

When I jump on my bike, it's just me and the machine doing stupid shit, relying on each other to get home safe.

I used to ride casually to enjoy myself. Now, when I ride, I have to cheat death to feel alive.

It's not good.

But that's why I keep my machine in tip-top shape.

It used to be I could go out for a couple-hour ride and clear my head. Then it turned into a tank of fuel equals a clear head. Then three tanks. Then a weekend.

Now it may only be a tank of fuel, but I have to take 30-mph curves at 60-plus, split traffic on a two-lane stretch of road, or do whatever stupid shit I feel like doing to get the adrenaline going.

I had a "celebration of life" to go to in California, but couldn't get off work the day before the event. It was a 12-hour ride there.

I left work at 7 p.m., rode hard until 11, and was only 2½ hours from the California state line.

I woke up the next morning, finished off the ride, and checked into the motel at noon.

I think my AVERAGE speed on the trip was triple digits.

Well, Harleys aren't made for that, but that's just the way I ride to feel good now.

I know I should get rid of the bike.

But that's not happening.

When I don't ride, I do enjoy a road trip in the cage with my wife. We go wherever, but usually to the desert, Moab, Havasu, Vegas, and places like that.

Sometimes we fly places, but then rent a car and drive all over anyway.

Sometimes just the act of planning a trip will help get me out of a funk. But I have to be careful with that because it has come back to bite me.

I "planned" to take my Jeep down to Mexico on my 50th birthday. I've always wanted to drive my Jeep "naked"—no top or doors—through Mexico.

Why?

Fuck, I don't know.

I've just wanted to do it for 30-plus years, so why not?

Well, my birthday came and went.

No Mexico trip.

I also want to collect my final 50th state while I'm 50. I only have a couple of months left to go before that goes away.

We'll see what happens.

But recently, I have found that just by writing these stupid little posts that I'm assuming no one is reading anyway, it has helped me a little.

It gives me a moment to reflect on things.

Some of the "bad shit" that has happened turns into good stuff as I reflect on it. What was "bad" during a dark time really hasn't been bad at all.

Shit.

Now I think I may just be babbling here.

ADHD?

Not sure.

Haven't been diagnosed with that...

Yet.

Maybe that's what this whole thing is.

Maybe it's anxiety. Maybe it's depression. Maybe it's just me sitting here trying to make sense of a bunch of shit that didn't go the way I thought it would.

Whatever it is, writing about it seems to help.

And maybe that's enough reason to keep writing.

I'll go chase a squirrel now. a trip is enough to pull me out of a dark place. But planning can bite me too. I planned to take my Jeep to Mexico for my 50th birthday—doors off, top off, desert air. Something I’ve wanted for 30+ years. My birthday came and went. No Mexico trip.

I also want to visit my 50th state while I’m 50. I’ve only got a couple months left. We’ll see what happens.

But here’s the thing: writing these posts—these “stupid little posts no one is reading”—has actually helped. It forces me to slow down and reflect. Some of what felt like “bad shit” turned out okay once I looked at it with clearer eyes. Maybe I’m babbling. ADHD? Who knows. Haven’t been diagnosed… yet.

So I’ll ask you:
Have you been diagnosed with anxiety or depression?
How do you cope? ADHD?

Let me know in the comments. I’m gonna go chase a squirrel.