An Interview With Myself
Question:
How are you doing?
Answer:
The funny thing is every man knows this question is a trap. Because nobody actually wants the real answer.
“Good.”
The accepted answer is: Even when you’re exhausted. Even when you’re scared. Even when you’re sitting in a neurologist’s office wondering what your future looks like.
So how am I doing?
Some days I’m grateful.
Some days I’m angry.
Most days I’m both.
Question:
What is the hardest thing about having MS?
Answer:
People think it’s walking. It’s not. People think it’s falling. It’s not.
The hardest thing is watching pieces of yourself disappear while you’re still alive.
I remember who I was.
I remember running.
Working twelve-hour days.
Being the guy everyone called when something needed to get done.
Now I need help reaching things. Help carrying things. Help getting places. I need help remembering.
The body keeps sending reminders that life has changed.
Question:
Does that make you feel less like a man?
Answer:
Sometimes…..There…..I said it. Nobody gives men permission to say that.We’re supposed to be strong.
Capable.
Unshakable.
Then one day your legs stop cooperating and suddenly you’re negotiating with a staircase like it’s the final boss in a video game.
There are moments where I miss the man I used to be.
Question:
What scares you the most?
Answer:
Well it isn’t dying. I’ve made peace with dying. What scares me is becoming dependent on the people I love.
My wife already carries more than she should. I don’t want my children remembering me as someone they had to take care of.
I want them to remember me laughing.
Teaching.
Being just a regular Dad.
Question:
Do you ever feel depressed?
Answer:
I think a better question is:
How could someone with a progressive neurological disease not feel depressed sometimes? The problem is men often think sadness means weakness. At least that’s how I was raised.
But it doesn’t.
It means you’re paying attention. It means you’re human.
Question:
What keeps you going?
Answer:
Purpose.
My Tribe.
My Writing.
My good friends.
The strange belief that my story might help someone else survive their own.
Purpose doesn’t cure pain. Purpose gives pain somewhere to go.
Question:
What has your children taught you?
Answer:
That time is a thief.
Yesterday they needed help tying their shoes.
Today one graduated college and the other is heading there.
My small apartment feels different now.
Quieter.
The walls haven’t changed. The people inside them have.
Question:
What do people misunderstand about men’s mental health?
Answer:
They think silence means we’re okay. Men are experts at suffering quietly. We’ve been training for it since childhood.
Many men don’t need advice.
They need permission.
Permission to be scared.
Permission to cry.
Permission to admit life hurts.
Question:
What would you tell another man who’s struggling?
Answer:
Talk.
Talk to somebody.
A friend.
A therapist.
Your wife.
Your brother.
Anyone.
You don’t get extra points for suffering alone. Trust me. I’ve checked.
Question:
What have you learned after all these years?
Answer:
Strength isn’t carrying everything yourself. Strength is being honest about what you’re carrying. And if I’ve learned anything from MS, marriage, fatherhood, and life, it’s this:
The strongest men I know aren’t the ones who never break.
They’re the ones who keep loving after they do.
Me Myself, and MS 
Leave a comment