On NEVER SAY DIE

February 7th
On NEVER SAY DIE

In the summer of 2003 there was a blackout on the Eastern seaboard. I was at work when it happened, working for Scotiabank in the sub-basement in “lending”. I still don’t know what the purpose of my job was.
I walked to union station and took one of the last functioning GO trains to Burlington, where Krista and I embarked on a drive to Ottawa to visit her sister Tracey. I had been feeling depressed a lot recently, and had even seen my family doctor and told him I was depressed. He prescribed me a book and told me to let him know if it started affecting my sleep habits or my appetite. I had taken to making dramatic statements to Krista, mostly along the lines of “I don’t like myself very much.” It felt pretty dumb to say, but I had a hard time expressing myself otherwise.
On the long dark trip to Ottawa, my self loathing increased. It was a trippy ride, because there were no lights on anywhere except for headlights and taillights and the stars, and we felt like we were driving into space. I had a snarky conversation with Krista. She had seen a raunchy, bad standup comedian a few years back at McMaster, our alma mater, and that had inspired her to consider becoming a comedian that worked with only clean material. I was skeptical, partly because I thought a lot of Krista’s funniest stories were dirty ones, and I thought she’d be throwing out a lot of her best material. That’s what I wanted to say, anyway, but it came out like I thought she was stupid for even considering the idea.
After jerkily pursuing my line of argument, I was overcome with remorse and self-hatred, and I asked Krista to stop the car. She pulled over, and I walked about twenty feet down the road and started throwing rocks from the side of the road into the dark trees. I hated my stupid job, and my stupid ambitions to become an actor, and Krista didn’t deserve a stupid asshole like me, who couldn’t get out of his funk and be the interesting and supportive person she had been dating before that summer. I had changed entirely from the cool guy I was in university, and I didn’t know who I was or what I was trying to do. Krista came over and asked what was wrong, and I apologized and cried. She said I didn’t have to apologize, but I really felt like I had to apologize, and was angry at her for not letting me. It was not a little bit ridiculous, me sobbing “I’m sorry,” and Krista telling me I had nothing to be sorry for. I guess that’s not ridiculous.
Eventually I calmed down and we continued on our way. That was my lowest point, and things have gone a lot better since then. I’m glad I kept going despite my doubts, and I’m thankful to Krista for not giving up on me.