Hello. My name is Alex Markham. I am not a writer, neither a poet nor anybody worth remembering. I am a programmer, who was at the top of the world until a couple of years ago. Then a series of things happened which finally led to an absolute destruction of my life. I lost my business, my wife and my home. When three of these go in quick succession, usually the “friends” follow suit. Well, I didn’t know it, but I saw it first hand.
I have been living in depression for the past year and a half. I have been too ashamed to seek help. I have been too depressed to do something about it. So, after procrastinating for a good part of the year, I am finally set to start writing about it. I intend to document and analyze the lessons that I learnt firsthand. If you, as a reader, find solace in my story, then be my friend. If I have annoyed you, please let me know. Or, if you think that you have advice for me, then don’t hesitate to reach out to me.
Anonymity Or Pseudonym
I had two choices. Either, I could have been anonymous or used a pseudonym. It is kind of difficult using the word “anonymous” for bland purposes on the internet these days. Also, I think pseudonyms extend a sense of bonding between the reader and the writer. At the very least, the writer can relate to a name, while the reader can gradually form a mental image. Oh! And you may ask, why hiding?
That is a pertinent question. I have deliberated on it for far too long. I have tried telling my story before as well. It went neither far nor well. But, one thing that I had learnt from those experiences was that, when I am telling a story about myself, I tended to come out of it as the protagonist. If I were the true hero of all my stories, I would have been a true hero in real life. Obviously, I am not.
Anonymity makes me honest. I can brutally tell the truth for you to judge. And then, only in anonymity lies the power of detachment — one which disentangles the knots of social, cultural & religious tentacles that have bogged me, for so long. Anonymity means freedom to me.
Because the forward leads nowhere. From where I see, there is a vast nothingness ahead, life is what I have lost. All I can do now, is look back. I had a great life. A fantastic career, beautiful wife, a home — everything a man could dream of. Most importantly, I had hope. Life was full of incessant opportunities and I threw it all away. What bothers me most is not the loss, but the fact that I have none to blame. It has always been me. I never realized it until a few weeks backs. Here in lies the “backwards” of this blog.
Humor has been the only friend through my tribulations of the previous couple of years. It has been the only constant in my life. Through the lows of failures, my humor has steered me until today. It has given me the courage to acknowledge my depression and face it. I owe it to my humor. You as a reader, can expect a laugh or two, at least. I can’t promise the world to you, but, I can keep my promise of making your day better. And like I said before, if you have something to share, be my friend.
… makes me shudder. It frightens me that, as I would have completed writing this, I wouldn’t have anymore reasons to wake up tomorrow. Does it mean, that I will give up? No. I would not give up. I would fight. My fight is not against anyone, my fight is against all the odds that seem to have picked me up as the lucky one. I will not go quietly into the night. I would not breathe my last until I have given it one last shot, my best shot. So, would you join me to share this last battle?