THE BATHTUB

It all started when…

I was 28 (27?) and in a particularly low place. My girlfriend had just dumped me. She was THE girlfriend- you know, the one that I would have asked to marry, if I had my shit together and hadn’t met her at the exact wrong time in my life.

I had just come from an hour on the treadmill, in an ultimately unsuccessful attempt to outrun the crushing weight of reality.

I am not a runner, by even the most irresponsibly inaccurate definition.

My apartment in Alexandria, Virginia at the time had a garden tub. Everything hurt, so I decided to sit there, simmer… and maybe seethe a little.

Eventually the water, like everything else at the time, had turned tepid. Rather than getting out, I just sat there and watched the water slowly drain.

Some other stuff happened- some good, some ‘other than good.’ but it’s not relevant to this story, so we might as well FAST-FORWARD TO 2017

I really wanted to get back into writing. I had self-published a few short stories on Amazon, but they were all somewhat loosely based on experiences from my life. I needed something broader that anyone could connect to.

I dug back through one of my many half-empty notebooks and remembered The Bathtub.

On a whim, I submitted it to The Mighty.

So without even more ado…

A lot of people have asked me what depression feels like. They earnestly seem to not know, as if depression were some sort of unfathomable specter.

To that end, I offer the following experiment:

Make the bathroom cold. Turn on the fan. Leave only a single dim light to diffuse, as if barely there — maybe a flickering candle.

Stay in the here and now; nothing exists on the other side of that door.

Slowly and deliberately, strip off each item of clothing, one by one. Focus on each movement of each action.

Draw yourself a bath. Go all out. Make it the best bath you possibly can.

Get in. Lie there in the heat, enjoying the comfort. Close your eyes. Wrap your arms around yourself to make the warm embrace literal.

This is the world everyone else knows.

Now, still lying still in the perfect bath, pull the drain plug.

Sit there as the water slowly recedes, as the warm water turns to cool air on your skin.

Listen to the gurgling thirst of the drain, as your bath gradually transitions to the past tense.

Sit motionless, as you feel the water being sucked down the pipes. You’re half way now, but there is still some water left, still some warmth you can feel.

After the last of the water runs swirling down the drain’s rim, sit there for a while. Sit there cold and wet and naked.

Keep still. Let yourself shiver. Don’t attempt to warm yourself.

This is what depression feels like.

It feels like everything good has all drained out, leaving you cold and naked and alone.

People loved it

As hard as it was for me to believe, people really connected with it. Not only was it extensively shared and commented upon within The Mighty, but it popped up in unexpected places as well, including a sermon on understanding. I’m not a religious man, but I do get a kick out of the idea that a room full of people sat and listened to someone tell them what I wrote and how they need to apply it to their lives.

BEST OF ALL

I was floored when I got an email that a film school in the UK wanted permission to make a short film.

I have only ever met Charlie Mason over email, but I absolutely love what she has made: