I came back to my hometown of Roswell, Georgia in the spring of 2019. I had a new job, reconnected with many old friends, refereed teams coached by players I had grown up with, and spent time in my childhood home as I looked around metro Atlanta for a place to call my own.

I had a well-paying new job, a great hobby officiating lacrosse games with the GLOA, and a loving partner. My life, on balance, was tremendous. Across every metric, I was scoring 10/10. Then I had another breakdown.

While in the hospital, I was despondent: “Another hospitalization? But I was doing all the right things.”

Hence, the problem with mental illness. Hell, any illness. A person can do everything they’re supposed to do, but the illness gets a vote too.

My biggest aggravation was that I had just recently moved into a new apartment. As a part of my treatment protocol, I likely wouldn’t be seeing my place anytime soon and I raged against that fact. Sure, I was upset about being in the hospital again, and I couldn’t derive any comfort from the group recovery home I stayed in because I kept my thoughts focused on my undecorated apartment. Even worse was the knowledge that I had yet again failed the people I loved the most. Not because I got in a fight with someone, not because I was in a rut, not because I lost a job — but because my depression chose to manifest itself when life was going great.

“Depression is the flaw in love. To be creatures who love, we must be creatures who can despair at what we lose, and depression is the mechanism of that despair. When it comes, it degrades one's self and ultimately eclipses the capacity to give or receive affection.” - Andrew Solomon, The Noonday Demon

The only benefit to this breakdown was that it happened while I was home. I had plenty of caring co-workers and friends in Baltimore, but nothing can beat my family and friendships that I’ve developed since childhood. It was my sister who discovered and suggested Skyland Trail as a place where I could receive more comprehensive treatment than I had ever received in the past. I’ll write more about my experiences at Skyland Trail in future posts; for now I want the focus to be that I recovered more steadily being close to home and family.

Why do I like rustic furnishings? Because my mom likes exposed wood, and she was in charge of home renovations.

Why do I remember all sorts of movie quotes? Because it was a family tradition to watch movies together.

Why does cooking calm me down? Because I learned to cook watching my dad and practicing with him.

It’s simply easier to find my center when I’m surrounded by familiar sights and sounds, which is why I feel comfortable moving back into my parents’ for the next few weeks as I prepare for a major life shift. I moved back to Georgia to be closer to my family. Luckily, I was hired right away, but my experience in a new office setting made me realize a truth about myself: if I’m not working on lacrosse then I am not cut out for being in a cubicle all day.

I need a vocation that will keep me active through the day, and require me to exercise my problem-solving skills. This is why I chose to enroll in trade school to become an electrical lineman. After several discussions with friends and mentors in the industry, I found a pre-apprenticeship program that’ll teach me the skills needed to enter the industry safely. I’ll be living up in northwest Georgia during the week, and spending my weekends at home with my family. Not a bad setup.

My nerves are definitely building as I approach the start of classes at the end of the this month, but it’s a good kind of nervous. I’ll get to stretch my mind learning a new industry, exhaust my body doing something physical, and still have time to do the writing and eLearning development work that gives additional meaning to my life.

A breakdown in my mental health at the end of 2019, and a global pandemic to navigate in 2020. Not how I imagined my return home would be, and I’m grateful I’m home.