The Mask

Picture by Greg Williams (gerg1967)

In June 2013, the massive, decades-long juggling act I had been performing came crashing down.
While I had suspected for a while that I had some issues, to use the cleanest euphemism possible, I resisted accepting that they really existed. I'm sure those closest to me knew that all was not well, but even with them I tried to hide what I was feeling. To the rest of the world, I presented (or tried to present) a persona of that was always joking, making light of any and all problems... except possibly crappy software development but that's a topic for a different blog!

In short, I spent decades wearing a mask.

I wore a mask that attempted to project someone who was always happy, finding humour in any situation. I wore a mask that attempted to project someone who was comfortable in their skin. I wore a mask that attempted to project someone who hadn't stumbled their way to a pretty good career in the software industry. I wore a mask that hid enormous pain that had been accumulating for many years and wasn't going away by simply ignoring it.

Certainly there were plenty of times that I was genuinely happy. I have been fortunate in so many ways, and my depression hasn't been anywhere as severe as that experienced by many people. I have been blessed by having had relationships that allowed me to grow. I have been blessed to have watched the birth of my two kids. I have been blessed to have a fantastic family who would go to the end of the Earth for each other. I'm especially blessed to have a wife who loves unconditionally and, despite my resistance, encouraged me to finally seek help.

But despite all those great aspects of my life, I wasn't feeling good. In fact, I was feeling worse. My work was starting to suffer. I was experiencing issues with many things due to the anxiety of dealing with them. My relationships with friends had all but evaporated because I was isolating myself.

The mask was starting to crack, and this past June it finally shattered. I couldn't deny my problems anymore and was forced to deal with them.

What I didn't expect was that the impassable wall of anxiety I had built was much more difficult to scale than any of the problems. Those are more like mountains, needing a slow and steady climb but still surmountable. Indeed, some have been mere hills easily conquered with a day hike.

In the end, the carefully and elaborately constructed mask that was intended to hide the real me from the outside world was working in reverse. It was hiding the true nature of that world from me.