Of course I can’t make this claim with absolute certainty. I suppose it’s possible there are outliers – people with wills of steel (or perhaps just a powerful ability to deny) – but being that these people are just plain better than me and clearly possess a definitive superiority over the rest of the human race…well, I try not to think about them too much. I mean, that’s just discouraging.
Now, I’m a very determined person. I’ve got big plans, and I’m not afraid to talk about them because I know that even though they may not work out, I will do anything within the realm of possibility to give them even the smallest chance of success. (Forget modesty when it comes to your ambitions – I say talk a huge game, bust your ass trying to walk as much of it as you can, and then be happy with the outcome, and with yourself.)
All this being said, I still think about giving up sometimes. Pretty often, actually.
That’s right. On a semi-regular basis, maybe once or twice a week, I think about giving up. I think, Fuck this, I’m done.
Seriously, when I’m in the moment, experiencing this kind of feeling, it’s not a casual thing. It’s real contemplation, real consideration.
Specifically, when I think about giving up on our social venture, I think:
Why bust my butt (unsolicitedly) trying to help other people overcome depression and unleash their potential? Why (practically) impose my ideas on the world and come off as an arrogant prick? Why intrude on other people’s lives and disturb the peace (and put myself in uncomfortable situations in doing so)? Really, most of the time I’m a pretty solitary guy and would just prefer to leave everyone alone.
Why tackle such a seemingly vague and amorphous challenge, one with murky metrics and colossally entrenched interests?
Why not look out for number one? I’ve got a lot of other interests, and I’m well aware that I won’t always be young and vigorous or what have you. Physical peak is, what, 26?
Why not give up?
***
Two nights ago, on the way back from dance class in the city, I passed out on the train and overslept my stop. I woke up just as we were pulling away, the “Princeton Junction” sign mocking me through the windows of the train.
Fuck, do they even have another train running back towards New York this late at night?
I got off at the next stop, Hamilton, and it was utterly deserted. Train station barren, shrouded in the dark night.
Standing there with my duffel slung over my shoulder, I realized it’d been a long time since I’d experienced this kind of aloneness.
Let me tell you, it’s one thing to be alone. Being alone and cold is another thing entirely. (Being alone and cold and hungry is yet a third, but thankfully I’d eaten that day)
I checked the schedule on the bulletin – one last train headed my way in the night schedule, 1:05. Hallelujah. Then I checked my watch. 12:40.
To pass the time, I ran thoughts through my head, even though I didn’t feel like it. Blackbody radiation…anything with mass gives off heat, yes? I should stay near the train station building, right?
I slipped my bag off and started rehearsing the new choreography, but I didn’t know it well enough to do it alone, and w/o the music (Lady Gaga ft. Beyonce – “Telephone”).
I would’ve worked on memorizing my monologue, but I didn’t have my gloves and it was too cold to hold a book with exposed fingers.
Then someone else showed up.
Visually prejudiced, I immediately judged him as a rough character by his clothes and his luggage. But when he stepped back and lit a cigarette, I practically could’ve hugged the guy.
That simple gesture of lighting up was such a human gesture, it immediately comforted me.
I felt infinitely less alone – such is the gift of being around other people. It’s something we often take for granted, but isolate yourself for long enough and you really learn to appreciate it. Trust me on this one.
Anyway, a few minutes after 1:05, the train came, and the two of us boarded.
***
There were five of us in that section of the train. Two were uniformed Assistant Conductors. The other two turned out to be transit workers as well, just getting off duty to go home for the night. And me.
Two of them struck up a conversation. Then one of the off-duty transit workers looked up, slipped off his headphones, and said,
“You talking about what happened yesterday?”
They weren’t at all, but they let him continue.
“Yeah, well, yesterday I was coming home at like 1 AM, and there was a big commotion over here, lots of police cars and stuff. They didn’t let us get off, took us straight to Trenton, and you could see a body wrapped in a sheet. Someone threw themselves in front of the train. Suicide, apparently. ”
One of the Assistant Conductors: “That’s the fourth one this week. Two on Monday alone.”
I pipe in: “Is that about usual? Four?”
Assistant Conductor: “Well it’s after Christmas. Right after the holidays, that’s when you see a lot.”
Off-duty transit worker: “Yeah, suicide…must be depression. A LOT of depression out there.”
Other off-duty transit worker: “Man, people just react differently, you know? I mean, you get in some financial trouble or something, what’s that worth killing yourself over, you know? Then you just putting some financial troubles on your family, ‘cause now they gotta bury you.”
Me: “Well, it’s not a logical decision at that point. The brain does nothing but register constant intense pain, so it seeks escape.”
At that point we pulled into Princeton Junction so I got off, unable to continue the conversation, but thoughts were racing through my mind.
***
Sometimes the sheer magnitude of the challenge we’re going at scares the shit out of me. No joke, I get terrified.
Our venture only addresses one tiny portion of that challenge – and that alone terrifies me.
Everywhere I go, I bump into people who reaffirm the reality of the challenge. And that terrifies me.
Seriously, it’s unreal how widespread depression is these days. And often you wouldn’t know it unless something came up that smacked you in the face. People don’t really ever talk about it, it seems, unless they’ve personally been affected by it in some way.
I was talking to a cafeteria worker at Olin, John, about our social venture a while ago, and John said to me, “Depression? You won’t have trouble finding business there. Depression, that’s everywhere…”
At an open call in NYC with RE:QUEST Model Management, they asked me what my hobbies were. I guess I don’t really have any these days, so I told them I was working on a social venture to help college kids fight depression. One of the guys cynically put out, “Hmm. Pop some pills, right?” Then one of the women who worked there said, “Wow, good for you. Good luck!”
In acting class, I met someone who turned out had been diagnosed with schizophrenia/depression in India, and who absolutely detested the way he’d been treated by all the psychiatrists he’d dealt with there. He told me he would’ve loved to have had the chance to try out the kind of program we’re looking to start soon.
At a Brookline Booksmith event in Brookline, MA, I plugged this blog and our social venture during Gretchen Rubin’s talk about her book, “The Happiness Project.” See here for details (sorry Ms. Rubin for using your space, and here’s some publicity back: http://www.gretchenrubin.com/) But people came up to me afterwards, and one woman opened up to me about her nephew in college who has having major problems with depression.
Even business-oriented people I speak with like our idea. A few people have said that they are generally very skeptical of these types of ideas, but that they like ours.
The only trouble is that it may be somewhat of a logistical nightmare to pull off…
***
The fact is, I consider it a privilege and honor to work in this space.
As much as I want to give up sometimes to pursue my other interests, I know I’m not dropping out on this. I think our idea – hooking people up with their passions in an environment that encourages constructive failure and embraces imperfection – has enormous potential. And not necessarily just for “depressed people” – if I can possibly do it, I’d like to take it to the prisons (Hari has a good story about this) and to the delinquents, and so on.
The fact is, it’s not a new idea. Looking back now, Jane Addams’ Hull House strikes me as similar (if I’m remembering them correctly), and I once read about some sort of “street MBA program” I think. Hell, when we came up with the idea, we had the Boy Scouts and RPG’s in mind…
But ideas are often most about execution and implementation. They’re about people. People who can make things happen.
My gut tells me my team and I are the right people at the right time to make this happen, and for that reason alone, I’m not giving up on this venture.
***
The thing about wanting to give up, even on the really important things – It’s okay.
As long as in the end you don't.
-David
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