If I Had: 136 Things I Would Have Missed

Imagine catching dirty water in a sink and instead of letting it drain to cleanse said sink, you stoppered the drain. The dirty water settles and cools. Sediment floats to the surface. A pungent odor develops. This is what happens to my brain if I don’t write. The negative, recurring thoughts settles and floats to the surface like pungent sediment. This analogy came to mind because I did one of my mind-cleansing rituals: cleaning the sink, the dish drying rack, and replacing the paper towels my coffee mugs sit upon in the cabinet. But now, it’s time to do the other ritual: write.

I’ve written before about my depression, anxiety, and suicidal ideation, including the complete turnaround I experienced in 2021, thanks to the triumvirate, if you will, of antidepressants, talk therapy, diet and exercise (which I’ll lump together for the purposes of using the word “triumvirate” in this way). In the years since, I still experience low moments, though. The ultimate difference-maker is that those low moments rarely reach as low as suicidal ideation, and in the rare instances of doing so, they’re far more fleeting. Indeed, so rare are these down-turns, I can think of specific moments in the past five years. One of those moments I’m amid now, ongoing as it has been for the past two weeks. I’m not going to elaborate on the multifarious factors that precipitated it, as this is a different exercise I’m endeavoring in. I only wanted to situate the context before continuing. What this down-turn made me think about is how in the throes of suicidal ideation throughout my 20s, I never thought I’d live to see my 30s, and here I am, embarking upon my 36th year in September. Which made me further reflect upon all that I’ve done in these last six years that might not have occurred if I had ever gone through with what the ideation was attempting to manifest. These could be experiences, interactions, friendships, connection to organizations, and so on.

Shall I list them? And why 136? That’s how many I hit before running out of steam. Since I mentioned the 20s being the real start of my chronic depression, that’s where my brain is at in terms of a “starting point” through to the present. I also offer tiny bits of commentary throughout. Finally, you’ll notice some of these items are the basic every-day things, which is kind of the point. In no particular order, of course.

These are as they come to me:

1. The birth of my twin’s daughter, and my niece.
2. My first trip out of the United States to Guatemala. (These two happened in the same week!)
3. The opportunity to donate my kidney to a stranger so that they may live.
4. Leaving journalism for my current nonprofit job — the best job I’ve ever had for purposes of being fulfilling in the mission-driven work.
5. Relatedly, the people I’ve met through the nonprofit job who I can’t imagine my life without now (and the connections therein led to some of what is on this list).
6. My dog, Dallas. She was often an anchor during my darkest days.
7. The important friendship I’ve developed well over 15 years at this point with my sister-in-law.
8. All the books I’ve been able to read, especially these last few years of better mental well-being.
9. Owning my first home.
10. Getting those check-in phone calls from my mom.
11. Buying a car on my own for the first time.
12. As editor of a small newspaper, gaining the attention of The New York Times was a thrill.
13. Interning with my hometown newspaper, The Cincinnati Enquirer.
14. Interning at a newspaper in Colorado that 11 years later, remains one of my favorite experiences.
15. Through that internship, going viral with a story about a life-saving pizza boy.
16. Being on Snapped.
17. Helping to save a dozen dogs (and one cat!) through fostering.
18. Traveling to Wisconsin for the first time with family (my favorite family trip!).
19. Falling in love with Chicago as an adult.
20. Seeing Washington D.C. and NYC numerous times since I thought, as a teenager, they were once-in-a-lifetime opportunities.
21. Despite some ugliness attendant with drinking with friends in your 20s … drinking with my friends in my 20s.
22. My friendship with Ryan.
23. WrestleMania 38 in Dallas, one of my all-time favorite solo traveling experiences.
24. Professional wrestling, again another consistent anchor through the dark times.
25. Having the financial means to do an Orlando-Chicago-San Diego trip in the span of a few months because they were fantastic experiences.
26. Christopher Nolan movies.
27. Movies in general.
28. Being around to help my twin financially when needed.
29. Being around for my twin in general!
30. The very-unlike-me chance I took visiting a woman in South Carolina, which developed into a lovely friendship.
31. Poetry! Both reading it and writing it.
32. Pithy quotes!
33. Giving my voice, energies, and monies to causes that matter to me beyond my current job, like RAINN, March of Dimes, mental health, and political and social issues more broadly.
34. My first long-term relationship and family therein through a step-daughter.
35. That step-daughter asking you to hold her.
36. The comfort of cuddles and putting your head on someone’s chest, or having their head on your chest.
37. The feel of someone’s warm skin.
38. Laughing, the kind of wheezy, stomach-hurting laughing.
39. Coffee.
40. Music, so much music. Again, a light in the darkness.
41. My first concerts with Ray LaMontagne, my favorite singer-songwriter.
42. Buckle, a friend unlike any other.
43. Garth, a stalwart friend and sounding board during my newspaper days (and ongoing!).
44. Hot tea (which I’m drinking now).
45. A cold beer.
46. Intellectual conversations.
47. Goofy-as-hell conversations.
48. Those conversations that go for hours, but it doesn’t feel like it.
49. Late night conversations in the dark with pillows beneath you.
50. The joy of learning something new.
51. The joy of learning something that corrects what I thought I knew.
52. The beauty of language, its use, strangeness, and learning new words.
53. The warm validation I feel when I can make someone else laugh.
54. The Christmases I helped contribute to in Clermont County for foster kids.
55. Off the List and Darci Gibson.
56. Overcoming my fear of public speaking and doing it regularly now (even though I’m still not a “fan” of it certainly!).
57. Good hugs. (I’m a hugger, but I’m not typically an initiator.)
58. Finishing my first book! (Yes, it’s still in draft form.)
59. Coffee dates with my twin and/or older sister.
60. Book browsing and buying.
61. Attending the theater or a musical.
62. History museums.
63. Art museums.
64. Being the subject of a college award-winning podcast.
65. Being the subject of my current job’s podcast.
66. Writing speeches for a CEO, other executives, and even the Mayor of Cincinnati at one point.
67. Superman!
68. Getting to rewatch and re-experience Game of Thrones and Breaking Bad with someone else.
69. All of the book reviews and other quirky blog posts I would have missed out on doing. I love my blog, and as I’ve mentioned before, it’s also been an anchor through the dark times.
70. Taking the plunge again into being a pescetarian and this time, sticking with it three-years running.
71. Trying new restaurants and foods, both local to me and on trips.
72. Skydiving, which I’ve done three times now.
73. Being in an airplane (not to jump out of).
74. Growing out my hair to donate to charity.
75. The blood and plasma donations I’ve been able to do to help others.
76. Participating in the interesting depression study I did last fall.
77. Trees.
78. A windy, cool day.
79. The beach and ocean.
80. Horror movies.
81. That comfortable shirt that fits just right.
82. Breakfast food.
83. A cozy blanket.
84. A cold pillow after the cover’s been washed.
85. Chocolate! Of all the kinds.
86. Cereal! Of all the kinds.
87. Sunsets.
88. Sunrises.
89. The moon.
90. The smell of a lovely burning candle.
91. The sound of a lovely burning candle.
92. Kicking off my shoes the moment upon getting home after a day of work (often in dress shoes).
93. Throwing off the belt holding up those dress pants!
94. Podcasts, far too many to name.
95. Clouds.
96. A clear-blue sky.
97. Those rare moments when you’re “in the zone.”
98. Holding hands with someone.
99. When you’re able to communicate with someone through only looks.
100. Graduating from Miami University.
101. Working on the college newspaper at Miami University.
102. Snow.
103. Hiking.
104. Stars (space in general).
105. The glee and empathy that I feel knowing other animals exist out there (some of my favorites aside from dogs include octopi, giraffes, elephants, and monkeys).
106. Meeting a monkey in-person for a newspaper interview I did!
107. All the 100+ year old individuals I had the pleasure of interviewing for the newspaper.
108. Going up in a B-17 bomber with WWII veterans, twice! What a privilege.
109. A hot shower.
110. The excitement of, Just one more chapter!
111. Cooking is so much fun, especially trying new things.
112. Cooking videos.
113. How-to videos (I find them so relaxing!).
114. The comfort to be goofy around someone, as in, being your true self.
115. The privilege of being physically healthy, still able to move as I want to.
116. Halloween.
117. Making someone smile.
118. Someone making me smile.
119. Someone talking to you without constantly looking at their phone (okay this is a passive insertion of a pet peeve!).
120. Game nights with family! (Board games, trivia, etc.)
121. Reminiscing with family (when it’s positive memory rehashing).
122. Sharing inside jokes only family knows.
123. Seeing my nieces and nephews become adults.
124. The privilege of seeing my parents get older.
125. The relationship I had with my great-grandma.
126. The relationships I still have with my grandma and great aunt.
127. Napping (seems like a weird one, but who doesn’t love a good nap?!).
128. Weddings.
129. Dancing at weddings.
130. Sweatpants.
131. The NBA Finals in Cleveland with my dad and brothers.
132. Going to a Cowboys and Chiefs game in Kansas City with my dad and brothers.
133. Seeing Niagara Falls for the first time with my dad and brothers.
134. Universal Studios.
135. Disney World.
136. Taking one of my nieces to a Reds game for the first time.

No shame here that some of these are cliche and/or cheesy. Let’s bring back cringe and joy in the cringe.

Depression is the lie that says tomorrow shouldn’t come; mental well-being is stacking up tomorrows into a life well-lived. When I’m in these low moments, I try to remember how far I’ve come and what I’ve experienced, both big and small. It helps.