The reason for being (well, for the blog, anyway)

There are many things that many people don’t know about me.

Even those closest to me: my colleagues; my closest friends; my family. Even the woman that, up until recently, I was lucky enough to spend that last 7 months of my life with, someone that I felt closer to than anyone ever before. Even she didn’t know, because I wasn't strong enough to talk to her about it.

People may say, “Yeah, I know Rich.” But they don’t.

They know the guy that’s a nice guy, goes out biking and running, goes out drinking and partying, is a dad to Katy and (usually) always has a huge grin on his face.

I wear my heart on my sleeve, but I don’t. That’s not me. Well, that’s only part of me. That’s the part that I want people to see.

The other part is a deeper, darker shade of black. And that’s someone that, up until now, only I’ve known.

I have down days, the same as everyone else does. I have very down days as well though. I have great days too.

On the very down days, I’ve locked myself in the house and refused to come out. I’ve refused to answer the phone. I’ve been drawn into my head and the negative cycle of self-destructive thoughts.

You can’t just tell me that I need to be happy in myself; exactly the same as you can’t tell the guy with a broken leg to walk it off.

I’ve spent a lot of the last few weeks trying to figure myself out. Trying to figure out why I don’t always like the person that I am.

I’ve realised recently that the blackness comes from my “mans’ best friend”: the black dog that’s always with me. Sometimes the dog is sitting on my chest barking at me that I’m not fast enough, not clever enough, not strong enough… just not good enough… the best that I can be, not good enough for you.

Sometimes, the dog’s running alongside me or just behind me on the trails, keeping me on my toes and pushing forwards.

One thing that’s for certain though, is that the dog’s always there.

I should probably give him a name…

Someone much wiser than me once said, “The deeper sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.”

During exercise or my good days, I can achieve an almost euphoric state. Afterwards, or during periods of inactivity, I descend into deeper and darker caverns than I would like to think most ‘normal people’ could imagine.

So, why am I telling you all of this?

I don’t know.

It’s not a cry for help. I’m not about to do something.

I guess it’s about helping myself get through. That not every day is a good day, but there’s some good in every day.

For now, I’m going to keep running. Someone very special gave me the inspiration to run long distance.

And the longer I run, the further the dog has to chase.