Years ago, I had a problem. Or, more accurately, I had a problem that began to manifest itself some years ago.

I was depressed all the time. I had issues where I would not react very well to certain people and stimuli. I would retreat into myself, be really hard on myself for things that weren’t my fault. I was around someone who didn’t give a shit about me, or at least didn’t care to figure out how to help me. I couldn’t go to my parents, because I thought they were in a “pray the depression away” evangelical space.

I was seeing a therapist about some other issues, but my depression wore through, and she questioned why and how I had come to this depressive state. I had no idea, and couldn’t see how to get out of it.

I tried natural remedies, like St Johns Wort, and that helped a bit. But I was my own worst critic, and I was paralyzed by this notion that I couldn’t do anything right.

Anyway. the point is this.

My wife was out of town this weekend, and I figured I would male red beans and rice, which she wouldn’t eat and I haven’t cooked before. I got the ingredients and prepped to get my Louis Armstrong on.

It…didn’t work out. The devil was in the details, and I missed a couple of very important ones.

I was sad, and frustrated, and after I threw out the attempt, I sat and ate some leftovers I had. I couldn’t whip up another batch because I had soaked the beans overnight, which is a major step I couldn’t simply ignore.

But I sat and that that Past Me would have been inconsolable. I remember vividly a few times when something that I had planned, that I had worked for, had not worked out and I…I remember that those were some dark times. My brain was telling me how worthless I was. That I was no good, and if I failed at this thing, I’d fail at everything else.

But that didn’t happen this weekend. I’m in a much better place, and while I was disappointed in the result, it won’t keep me from trying again. It won’t keep me from doing what I can do to get it done next time.

For that, I am grateful and thankful for time, maturity, good therapy, and finally coming to grips with when to ignore my brain and when to indulge it. It doesn’t tell me those dark things nearly as much anymore, which is good.

Brain chemistry is some shit, y’all.