Self-portrait. Pastel on paper
DEPRESSION
In trying to get his art into a gallery, then writing several screenplays, Mike discovers none of his work – or his life – has a theme. This depresses him. In fact, he realizes he’s been depressed for fifteen years.
The opening to “Depression:”
In 2008, I wrote Mom a letter.
Dear Mom,
I want you to know I feel I am finally coming out of a fifteen year funk, one you never knew about. I feel bad I never confided in you more about it. But please know now what I have discovered.
You have always been a mother, and I a son, two people born thirty years apart, but I realize there comes a time in all people’s lives when they reinvent themselves. For you, it was in your fifties, divorcing Dad and starting your own life over for the better. For me, it has also been in my fifties. As a boy I thought I would never meet another person as frustrated as you until I met myself recently. I just want to say I understand now what you went through, or think I do. I am sorry I never understood then.
Love,
Michael
I never mailed the letter. It remained on the desk where I wrote it. Mom had passed away three years ago – I knew the letter was meant more for me than her.
I’d always regretted how my childhood had been frustrating, that Mom looked so unhappy then, but I was beginning to see that time differently now. I was actually longing for those days. They seemed normal. They felt comfortable. They represented home. And I wanted them back. Now. Was it okay to want that?
Note: I am currently seeking representation for my book. Please see my contacts page for how to get hold of me.
Mike Andberg 