A Dream Deterred

If you know where I got this title from, congratulations. I stole it from an episode of The Boondocks where Dr. Martin Luther King had woken up from a coma (it’s hard to explain if you haven’t seen it) and was sad about the state of affairs the world was in.

So. When I started college, I went for a degree in Chemical Engineering. At first I loved it, and I still do love science, but I found out about a year and a half in that it wasn’t what I wanted to do with my life. I realize that making $80k+ is amazing, and its tempting when you’re told that you can make it out of college. The problem with that is, I wasn’t happy. I had bouts of depression and started having problems concentrating. I understood a lot of the material, but my heart wasn’t in it. When I went for interviews I was also repeatedly told that if engineering didn’t work out that I should go into radio. Since my voice changed, I had always gotten comments like that because my voice went from Mickey Mouse status to Mufasa real quick. I also have always had a love for music and for making people laugh, so I figured what the hell?

I switched into Communications with a great deal of lament from my father, who had always wanted me to be an engineer. I wasn’t mad that he was upset, I really understand that he wants the best for me, and making money is entirely necessary in this world. I don’t like it, that’s just the way it is. With that understanding, I took the necessary courses in order to get my degree, and I had a TON of fun along the way.

I got into several video classes and realized that I love the creative side to broadcasting. Writing scripts, directing, finding new ways to present useful information. Ultimately though, I really learned I loved to entertain. Me and a couple of buddies capitalized on this by organizing a podcast that was originally set up to be released weekly. We had a professor help us organize the set, we had multiple cameras set up, we filmed in front of a set that was actually used for television, and we had mics. If we are being honest, those videos weren’t great, but that’s not the point. We spent our free time working on something for absolutely no pay, and do you know why? Because we loved it.

Fast forward a few months and me and one of my fellow podcasters took intern positions at a radio station in Louisville. There we got the real experience of a morning show working with three amazing morning show hosts as well as occasionally with the mid-day host and the afternoon host. It was like another world to us. We got to crack jokes on the air, we got to meet interesting people, we got to listen to music before it was put in rotation and give our opinions on it. I loved that summer, it was a TON of work, but it didn’t feel like it at the time.

We showed up for every opportunity given to us. We went out of our way to make sure we showed that we loved what we were doing and that we ultimately wanted to be a part of the team long term. Best of all, they recognized that and gave us jobs. We weren’t full-time, and neither of us are yet, but it was a foot in the door and dang it that’s all we needed. Add that to being granted a Saturday show where we get to show up and do things our way just because we are who we are, and it was amazing. We aren’t even paid for that show, but we never minded. Why? Because we love it.

Fast forward another few months and I take a part-time position at a small station in a rural market. I took the job because my co-host was working there, and my boss said it would be a great place for me to go and develop my skill while I was waiting on bigger and better things. At first I was just a guy running the board on Sunday as a backup. Then I was trained to be a backup for any other DJ. Then a Saturday show opened up and I could have my own request show, part-time.

This is really the first time I got paid for on-air. Honestly, it was pretty cool. The money wasn’t great since the station is in a poor area, but it didn’t matter. It was more than free and I was getting to get my voice and name (though I use a fake name on air) out there. Down the line, another position opened up, and it was full-time.

Here’s the problem. The position was news. As a person who battles depression, I knew going in that this job would not be easy. It’s hard to read about people trying to kill themselves when you’ve dealt with that path yourself. Either way, I took the position. It was fun at first, gathering information and writing it down into stories that I could then tell was interesting. Plus it gave me time to work on my production skills by letting me edit my mistakes (and there were a ton) while also developing on air skills by throwing me into a morning show.

Several months down the line, and I can’t stand this job anymore. It’s the same stories all the time. So-and-so molested children, so-and-so beat his wife, so-and-so killed someone while driving drunk. Pair that with a crippling story that hit my area and I feel like I would rather be one of the people killed in the news than the person reporting that. And that’s not okay.

Even further, the job outside of the news isn’t that rewarding. I get paid minimum wage to work 6 days a week with no lunch break. I feel sick all the time. I feel like my boss insults me more than he ever tries to help me improve, and even if he’s joking he knows I have depression and I hate my job so insulting me even as a joke just isn’t cool. The fact of the matter is, I’m working for a dying wage while also wanting to kill myself in the process. This is no way to live.

So, the dream may be deterred. It’s certainly not lost, I still plan on working for two other stations. I just can’t see myself lasting much longer in a position where I feel trapped, unappreciated, and frankly stagnant. Maybe it was that I’ve known all along I couldn’t do this job with my emotional capacity. Maybe it’s that recently I’ve pulled several weeks without any days off. Maybe its that I can’t afford to pay my bills and my job interferes with working my other two. The fact of the matter is, I turned down a ton of money to be happy. Now I’m making minimum wage and hate myself.

Time for a change.

– Dave

P.S. sorry again for being so personal, hopefully these things change soon.

Summer Blues: Response

To my dear little brother: I’ve hit the wall before. Maybe not in the same way you have, but I’ve definitely hit walls and rock bottom in my life.   Moments that have tried to define me and set me on the course for where I’m at today.

The thing about anxiety disorders and depression is that they tend to be inherited. They also tend to cause each other, a cyclical thing. I’m fortunate enough that medication and therapy helps me. A lot. I don’t feel brain dead or stunted in my personality. It actually allows me to be closer to who I really am, instead of a neurotic, nervous mess. It’s liberating for me and I wish that you could find something that would calm your mind and allow you to be the best version of you.

At the end of the day, I want you to know you are not alone. You are strong and you can fight this. The days get long and difficult, but trust me when I say that you have friends and family around you who love you and want to help, even if they can’t.

Keep your head up. Things will get better: one way or another, one day at a time.

-Gretchen

Summer Blues

Summer is meant for fun. Everyone is off school, people are taking vacation, we are celebrating our country’s Independence with fireworks and cookouts. Not to mention, for the most part it’s beautiful outside (unless you are like my area and have had rain for what seems like the last eternity). With all that being said, I’ve found the days harder and harder to deal with anymore and I sleep more than any human should.

Something you should probably know about me is that I have depression. Let’s face it, a lot of people have it these days. The problem arises that I can’t take anti-depressants. Why? Because anti-depressants make me have the personality of a loaf of bread and it makes me feel sluggish. I work in radio, which means I make my money off being quick witted and larger-than-life, so it is just not an option.

Up until a few years ago, I considered summer a beautiful thing. Like I said before, grilled hot dogs and pow-wowing with the friends make for a great time. The problem was, I had just come off one of the hardest winters in my life. It was the first time that my depression made me lose sight of pretty much everything, and really it was the first time I went to the doctor to address it. To save you the details, I hit the wall pretty hard.

Spring came and went and I ended up going to therapy because, quite frankly I couldn’t deal with just everyday life. I started hanging out with a few friends, and life got better. Some of my best memories in fact come from that summer, which is saying something because last summer I got to intern with some of the coolest people on the planet AND got my first job in my career field. My problem is, I can’t move past that summer.

I guess it spoiled me to a certain extent. I lived with one of my best friends, saw another almost daily, and met someone who made more of an impact in my life than they will ever know. I wrote music, I got my first (and currently only) tattoo, and I took trips home to see my family. I look to that summer as a beacon of hope. A step that was in the right direction. Now I’m so far removed it feels like I’m sinking back to “before.”

• Dave

P.S. I promise to get back to the entertainment side of things next week, its just been a long few days.