Man, my life must be so boring. I'm just like, on an even keel the whole time.

Lowest: My junior year of college, I was pursuing a girl on the fencing team, but my roommate cut in on me and started banging her all the time. There was no way to switch roommates so I had to get used to finding them entwined all day every day, and having no place to escape from their presence. It was slowly driving me mad. I went to counseling for a bit, but it didn't help much. The year ended and so things got somewhat better.

Highest: My senior year of college, I was finally maturing into the guy I am today, had much more freedom in my thoughts and actions, realized and actualized the important things in my life; always finding something good to think about, loving my family, revelling in existence itself and the fencing team won a national championship. Although I didn't actually fence in the tournament, I knew my presence and work ethic during practice helped the team win.

slightly drubk right now, had a couple of beers over lunch. ;)

My low point: It came about a year after breaking up with a guy who brought no end of troubles into my life (through my own foolish tolerance of all that). I wasn't quite over it. I was working two jobs, an underpaid museum job which I liked and a restaurant job which I used to support my museum habit. Even between the two, at sixty to seventy hours a week, I was not making ends meet very successfully; there were some long weeks where meals were skimpy and there was no going out, renting movies, buying magazines, or most other forms of entertainment.

The museum job was going poorly because the place was in crisis; we had a department manager who showered a dark tone over everything, hours and benefits were being cut, and there was no possibility for me to advance to a better job in the organization. My friendships were in a state of disrepair because I had disappeared into the bad relationship for so long that I had neglected to keep up with my social network. I felt like a failure personally, professionally, and financially and was quite definitely depressed. Physically, I was not well either, since I was a heavy smoker at the time and relatively inactive and out of shape. My lungs used to hurt in the morning. The whole time was very lame and I waited a long time for things to get better on their own. They did not do so. It was hard on the couple of friends I did talk to, because I was asking them to absorb so much of my sadness and hold me together.

I got out of it by realizing I had to throw myself a line somehow -- that some kind of action, any action, was really my only hope at putting a life back together. It became evident no one was going to swoop in and do that for me. I made a counseling appointment. At the first meeting, the counselor, a funny, wifty older hippie-ish woman named Judy, strongly encouraged me to take up exercising rather than go on medication for depression. I did -- more because I had become willing to just try anything than because I believed it would work -- and within a month was feeling markedly better. She also encouraged me to think about what I wanted to do for graduate school and the rest of my career. I quit smoking and started thinking about moving on with life and career, going somewhere else. I got more involved, gradually, with my circle of friends, and started to reach out and find ways to get involved in stuff I liked to do. It was all one step at a time; but now that low point seems like a clear aberration.

High point? It's hard; there have been several, fortunately. My great cross-country travel adventure of 1998 stands out - spent the whole summer driving around the Great Plains and the southwestern deserts, living in natural magnificence, camping, hiking, and wandering. Sailing offshore last May. Playing my first big paying solo gig on New Year's Eve in the mid-90s, when a passel of my friends came in from all points to see the show and celebrate the night. These last two years getting involved in a really cool, active community where I live.

More high than low, for which I'm truly thankful.

[Preview: Eideteker, that's probably the very healthiest way of all].

Lowest Points would be a three way tie, I suppose: my post-college-flunkout year spent working nights in a very weird supermarket bakery (sans benefits, long story), rushing home to sleep under a beachtowel covered skylight in my parents attic and having almost no human interaction except for the recent immigrants who wove a linguistic bouillabaise around me as I drudged. I also caught chicken pox from my baby sister that year (I was 21). All this at a time when my peers were off having great adventures or fun or scaling academic heights. I sometimes wonder if I'm still bitter about it today. But I eventually realized that if I didn't change things I was going to become a very bitter and insane recluse, so I got a dayjob, clerking in a bookstore. I've gone through similarly disastrous funks (my first 8 jobless months in Miami, a place where I didn't belong and nothing I did seemed to work out. My mercifully brief foray into single life.)but either circumstance or will usually pulls me out somehow.

High points. Well, there's my wedding weekend, with it's manifold delights of love, adventure, friendship and freedom. Me and Pips' early days together; we lived in a shitbox, worked crappy jobs, but we were on our own adventure and surrounded by people in the same boat. Moving back to NYC gave me the same feeling as well: that anything's possible. And just watching the world around me reminds me of that.

Don't ever check yourself into the bin, if you can help it. I was only in two and a half days. It was like jail. Searches, lack of privacy, institutional meals, boredom, television, structure.. It only helped in the sense I don't ever want to go back. Plus, there were some pretty decent, likeable people in there, which was nice to find out. Some long timers, even.

I've had plenty of high points, but nothing stands out. . .I guess I just trust that there will be more, and that gets me through the low points.

Worst: Nearly took own life twice, 18 mos apart, over separation from wife & son. (Details would be superfluous. Over and done with, no longer interested in such selfishness.)

Best: Thought it was wedding day. Hmmmm, maybe when we adopted our son and I got to pick him up, less than a day old, first time?

Or maybe it was once in college when my ESL students all wanted to have their pix taken with me at an end-of-the-summer-session party when I was xferring from the community college where I'd worked/studied to a university elsewhere. It was the first moment in my life that I knew I others could appreciate me that much.

My lowest point was easily the entire year 2003. In January I was in the middle of separating from my husband, in February my father died. I spent the summer getting a divorce and dating and getting dumped no fewer than three times, while one of my cats died. Then, at the very end of the year, one of my coworkers, a really really cool person, died. I think this was the first time in my life where I really experienced something close to depression, in the medical sense. I got out of it primarily by just waiting it out; I suppose I was lucky that worked.

I can't really think of a high point. I can think of really specific good times, but no kind of phase or lengthy set of events I would call a zenith.

I spent a year homeless, holding down a part time job, my books and CDs in storage and everything else I owned on my back, from the winter of 2001 through the fall of 2002. I've had clinical depression for a long time, so I had never really felt like anyone ever gave a shit about me, which made the lonliness and hopelessness of living out of my bag and wondering if I'd ever again have four walls and a door that I could close pretty bad. I spent my 21st birthday drunk, shivering, staring at my sleeping bag and writing down reasons why I shouldn't just jump off a scenic bridge. I guess that was the lowest point I've hit, although I can think of a number that come close.

The high point was shortly after the low, when I realized that I can handle anything the world throws at me, and it really doesn't matter if I'm all alone in doing it.

My lowest point ever was probably the year of the ending of my second marriage, beginning with the part where he had an affair - right out in the open, with a "friend" of ours (yeah, I'm still a little bitter, it is true)- and continuing through just, oh god, insanity and utter craziness and suicidal thoughts and so on. Then we made up and tried to make it work for another year and I slowly, slowly realized that it was never, ever going to work. Psychological abuse and threatened physical abuse and poverty and alcohol abuse and dashed hopes and through it all two kids to care for. 1994 and 1995 were bad years. And then there was another really bad relationship/low point in the early 00s that I don't want to talk about, but between the two they left some scars.

Last year got pretty low at points - I seem to cycle way, way downwards about every two or three years. My therapist says my emotional thermostat seems to be naturally set at melancholy, or low melancholy. I don't want to spiral back down in 2 years and I think - I genuinely think that this time perhaps I won't.

Right now is a high for me, probably the highest since the mid 80s. In the mid 80s at the very end of college and just after I always felt so cool; I was painting a lot, people were even buying paintings and (god, this is pathetic) there were guys falling over themselves for me all around, which was a huge self confidence boost. I was kind of a big frog in a small pond; I was in a film; I went to all the cool parties and so on. I had tremendous energy in my early 20s; it kind of boggles my mind now to think how much I used to do - while partying like a lunatic, too.

Now is a much calmer high but it's a very good one. I went into therapy in May, stopped going in September, but this summer helped me so much. I feel calmer and more in control, less like I'm going to go down to the bottom again. I feel creative; I'm painting again for the first time in a long time; I'm writing a lot; I'm working at a job where I feel genuinely needed and appreciated and I've slowly begun to really understand myself and even appreciate the solitude of the last few years. At first heading into middle age and being single seemed like the worst things in the world. Now, I like it. Fish oil, I tells ya! Fish oil and exercise are my holy dynamic duo.

I'm comfortable with myself; I treasure my time alone; I have friends and family and everything I genuinely need. I always think, you know, if you have no problems that huge amounts of money couldn't solve, than you really have no problems. And all the problems I have right now could totally be solved with money (granted, some of them would take a powerball winning sized influx, but still.) I don't have any money, but oh well, what the hell, I'm pretty happy, so who cares.

Low: My sophomore year in college when I lived with a good friend who was going through a drug problem, quit my fraternity and basically locked myself in my apartment for about 8 months. Thankfully the friend cleaned himself up and is about to become a high school teacher, I rejoined and ran my fraternity (which was a great experience for me despite the bad rep frats get here) and generally unclenched a bit for the rest of my college career. The year I spent in NYC was the other low point for me--I had such high expectations for my career and life in the city. My job, which looks great on my resume, turned out to be miserable, I hated the bad weather and through a combination of working too many hours and being generally depressed I locked myself in my apartment again and missed out on a lot of the NYC experience. And I gained a bunch of weight--everyone told me I'd lose weight when I moved to NYC because of all the walking, but I proved them wrong!

High: Moving back to AZ this August was great--after NYC, I was really homesick for my family and old friends. But some of the old social routine is coming back now and I'm not happy with my career options here. I'm considering a return to the SF Bay Area to get back on the right career track. In retrospect, my highest point was probably the year I spent in Palo Alto before going to NYC. I was working a ton of hours, but I was enjoying it, kicking ass and getting recognition for it. I loved the Bay Area and formed a few friendships that I think will be really strong and enduring, not to mention helpful if I return to Cali.

Low: End of freshman year of college. I was very depressed- I didn't want to kill myself, but I wanted to die and thought I was going to. I lost my appetite and pretty much stopped eating. I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't had my peeps at the counseling center.

High: This past year has been pretty good- moved from a crappy job to a great job, got in shape, saved some cash, got my own place. As for retaining happy feelings, having a dog is one of my great joys- just last night, I was reading Harry Potter in bed, and she kept jumping in front of the book, then she started licking the edge of the book, then she moved behind the book and put her face over the top. I laugh at her silliness every night. When I have a bigger house, I'm gonna have many dogs- I saw an Italian Greyhound today that was so!!! cute.

Does anyone remember a TV Show called Queen for a Day where people competed to be as wretched and bathetic as possible?

Did I win the crown?

Do you want to win the crown? The responsibilities would mean you have to spend the next year writing bad poetry on your Xanga journal and taking pictures of yourself weeping dramatically next to rusted out cars that represent your broken down heart.

This week's prize is an Amana Electro-Range with built-in rotisserie.

OMG I WANT TO WIN I WANT TO WIN!!!!!!!

Oh, it's that Queen For A Day?

*goes off to remove evening gown, wig, and pearls*

Low: I've been pretty blessed in my life: I suppose my true lowest point would be near the end of 7th grade. My childhood friends had dumped me earlier that year, so I had started hanging out with some real manipulative losers. Pretty soon, I had a falling out with them, too. I spent about 3 months with absolutely no friends, going to the library in the morning before school, sitting by myself during class and at lunch, walking home by myself, and reading all afternoon until I fell asleep. I eventually reconnected with some old neighbors, but that's probably the closest to depressed I've ever been.

High: Well, I'm feeling pretty great right now, and I'll probably feel a lot better when my SO moves in with me next month!

Low: Third year university (2000-2001). Just came off a horrible job on the other side of the country in which I made no money and with the hope that my crush and I were finally going to do something based on numerous little signals over the summer. Hope was crushed when I found out he was dating another girl while secretly lusting after one of my housemates. Shared a house with two equally but differently disfunctional individuals (who I hope to not have contact with ever again). My housemate/"friend" began revealling a duplicitous nature but only I could see it so I thought it was in my head. I'm sure this was part of her plan but to this day I have no idea why she would want to screw with my head. Other housemate was an even bigger trainwreck and kept a nocturnal schedule disrupting my sleep on a nightly basis. Classes sucked and I wasn't doing well. Depression got out of control mostly because of reasons stated above. I stopped eating, starting cutting and contemplated suicide on a daily basis. I was happy when that year ended and I moved into a different house with new housemates.

High: Not sure exactly when this was but possibly was the summer after graduation (2002). Took a 5 week trip to Ecuador, Peru and Bolivia, spent money like a sailor, had oodles of fun and saw some really cool shit. Took the rest of the summer off to bum around since grad school would start in the fall (which is slowly eroding my soul but will be done soon - I hope).

Oh, so many lows: eight, nine and ten years old - lots of abuse and neglect, lost my school friends, lost the man I consider my dad, homelessness, social anxiety disorder took hold, I started gaining weight, first thoughts of suicide. Teen years - awful, but probably no more awful for me than anyone else, no friends, home life was better in some ways and worse in others, gained more weight, first suicide attempt. Twenties - very depressed, second suicide attempt, don't really remember much of my twenties.

Highs: my thirties were and are much, much better. Finally got depression meds (after a few more lows), learning to just not give a damn about stuff that doesn't matter, learning to be comfortable in my own skin and head. Got a computer and learned to be less shy. Met the mister and got married. Bought a house, something I never imagined as a remote possibility. I think my forties are going to be awesome.

Low point: when I first attended college (I was 16 at the time), I managed to skip nearly all of my classes, and fail most of them. I also became involved in several altercations with campus preachers, and left a string of angry ex-dorm-mates in my wake. I was politely asked to leave after the first year. In retrospect, the low point started somewhere in the middle of the semester, but I didn't really see that at the time.

At the time, it seemed like the low point started when, after getting kicked out, I took a job in a factory. And I was terrible at it. My coworkers all thought I was an idiot. I'd leave work every day exhausted, having narrowly avoided chopping off my fingers on numerous occasions. My eyes ached all the time from smoke and plastic dust, and I'd stand at my assembly line station, tears filling my eyes, wondering how things had come to this (answer: naivete, depression, and a severely misguided approach to self-medication).

A little while later, I got a job that I was better suited for. And a little while after that, I went back to college. High point? I like to think that things keep getting better.

box, me and you should go bowling or something.

Low: Most of the entire year from September 2005 to about maybe slightly after the middle of June 2006. Kelly died, I continued to live in co-dependant housing situation with my ex-boyfriend, I became depressed over her death, I dated (?) two guys unsuccessfully and realized that I'm too old to sleep around anymore. I also feel like every day I spent after she died was a day I wasted on not living up to my full potential. In a way, I still feel that way, but at least now I'm moving (like molasses!) to do something about it.

High: It's a silly one, but I love telling this story. I was in high school choir and was an alto/second soprano. The school diva and acting star Summer WzbaczpolishlastnameIcan'trememberhowtospellzy usually scored all the best solos in the musical revues we did, but we did tryouts for them anyway. The one we were trying out for was six lines from the beginning of "How Are Things in Glocca Morra?" (which I found out just now are not the correct lines):

How are things in Glocca Morra?
Is that little brook still leaping there?
Does that laddie with the twinklin' eye
Come whistlin' by
And does he walk away,
Sad and dreamy there not to see me there?

Summer tried out and other folks tried out and then I raised my hand to try out. No one really expected me to do well because, well, Summer---! She was fabulous! She had breath control and had great stage presence and a great, fantastic Broadway voice. And I had a lisp and couldn't hit the high notes like she could and whatever. But I nailed it. I fucking nailed those six lines, trilled the Rs in "Morra" like I was speaking Gaelic and sang the HELL out of those lines. There was a small pause, and then people applauded and my face flushed because I knew I'd done very well.

I didn't know that I'd actually kicked some ass until Summer "playfully" suggested that we try the lines next with an Irish accent. We didn't do it, but oh man, I would have been ready for that, too.

Alas, she did end up with the solo, but I felt like I won because I got her respect and that same year, at the end of the year concert, the two of us did a duet from "Miss Saigon" with me singing Kim and her singing Chris' wife's part. We kicked the ass out of "I Still Believe" and I really wish I had that video now.

(I know it's kind of creepy and stalker-ish, but I've read this thread guessing - mostly correctly - who everyone is as they tell their stories. You can play along at home!)

Like Eideteker, I'm a reasonably even-keeled person. Probably the last year though is the lowest I've ever felt, the only time I've ever considered talking to a doctor about getting on some meds. Although about the time I decided to, I was in a good blip and that energized me to start with the exercise and healthy eating, and that started me running. Which turned into a good thing. Although now I'm starting to head low again, and I'm wondering if it's seasonal (this is before the last week -- and no real cause as far as I can tell).

Probably the best time of my life was my final year of undergrad. My best friend and I were the stars of our neuroscience program as well as being single and fabulous. We went out all the time, had so much fun at college and the future was all bright and open. It's all worked out pretty well, but I miss the optimism of that time.

We went out all the time, had so much fun at college and the future was all bright and open.

That seems to be a common theme in the 'high points,' I've noticed. And I agree that it's a great feeling. But I think it may be impossible to sustain for longer than, say, a few hours before the 'what am I gonna do?"'s and "what have I done"'s and "when's the other shoe gonna drop"'s set in and ruin verything.

My lowest point was the year of so preceding my separation (and eventual divorce) from my wife of 10 years. Constant bickering, too much drinking, and deep sadness over the prospect of leaving my daughter. I think I needed to wallow in the depths a bit to get the will to leave.

Highest point? The past eight years after that. Friends, love, peace, and a stronger-than-ever relationship with my daughter, whom I see twice a week. Even this last year, with a health scare for my (new) wife and declining job satisfaction, has been terrific.

Low point: every second of the 9 months I spent in Wilmington, Delaware (except for the moments when I was eating a sandwich--Wilmington is hell on earth, but with excellent sandwiches).

High point: life just keeps getting better.

I'm not going there.

I never contemplated suicide even once, though, which is odd considering it's in my genes.

Last few years have been a relatively even keel, and I'm hoping it stays that way, although I wouldn't mind a few random high points scattered throughout my next few decades on earth.

I actually have to do a project this week for a class about this topic. "A visual respresentation of the whole of your life, with the low points and high points identified." The project scares me to death, really. Like mats, I'm not so sure I want to go there.

I actually have to do a project this week for a class about this topic. "A visual respresentation of the whole of your life, with the low points and high points identified."

Seriously? That's one demanding teacher.

Find some really wet dog poop and drop it from a height onto a piece of posterboard so it falls and makes marks at random. There's your visual representation right there.

(If you've had some good points, drop Skittles as well.)

Yes, seriously. She's being pretty generous on what counts as a "visual representation," though.

Though I'm not sure dog poop and Skittles would be quite what she's looking for.

i believe all of my lows run concurrently w/ my highs...
something hugely devastating happens countered almost immediately with either great personal discovery or accomplishment. or the low seems to be a high in retrospect & vice versa...
the most notable: in the midst of my crumbling marriage, i met the most passionate (at that point) person i'd ever met. it is quite possible that this person saved me from great depression at a time that was difficult. or maybe i clung to her because the rest of my life seemed so devastating...maybe it was merely the contrast between her and the shithole i believed my life had become...a great distraction...someone to pin my hopes on? who knows? who cares....i did the "wrong thing" but to me it felt like the right reason. now, looking back, i feel as though the high was the divorce. instead of a terribly unhappy couple, there are 2 happy, functioning adults who can still share the joys of life (their children). the affair that i believed was the passionate high of my life, now seems cheap & sordid. i should have finished one thing before i began another...i should have learned to love myself before i dove into anything new.
(hindsight? over-analysis?)

Yes, seriously. She's being pretty generous on what counts as a "visual representation," though.

Good lord, whatever happened to paper topics like 'Our Friend, The Beaver," or "Calcium and You?"

"At least 50% of our brains process things in visual images, so I want you to be comfortable working in that medium."

Part of me wants to do a shoebox diorama of my life. I loved shoebox dioramas.

I think the only high I've ever known in life is that realizing that every high and low I've ever had in my life doesn't stick. It's all transitory, and as soon as you think you know what time it is, your watch gets stolen or breaks or something.

I worked this summer onstage with some former combat veterans out of Vietnam, and they started every day with "it's a good day. I woke up."

I'll settle for that right now, I think.

Low point: 1998. I finally had the courage and the meager savings to leave my physically and emotionally abusive husband, and moved my two sons (aged 4 3/4 and 1) and myself to a tiny, two bedroom apartment in the same town. I received no child support, and then my company cut the pay (by 28%) of twenty-five employees, of which I was one. I had rent, car insurance, bills, and day care to pay for. And also my lawyer, for my divorce. I spent many days feeling stressed and yelling, struggling to have decent food on the table. (Remember the line from BareNakedLadies song "If I had a Million Dollars?" ..."we wouldn't have to eat Kraft dinners....but we would"? That was us. The kids were thrilled with mac n' cheese at least once a week.) My ex bad-mouthed me whenever I dropped the kids off for him to see. It was such a hard time. It took me two years for the company to restore my lost pay (but not retroactive). There were precious moments with my sons then, too, but I've never felt so down. I even tried to get welfare/food stamps but I was told I made $500.00 a year too much.
High point: Still continues. I like to think it's on an uphill swing. I own my own house, I have a wonderful second husband, and we are finally able to save money as well as write out checks for the bills that come in. My sons are growing up nicely, I have two step kids who live with us, and despite the fact that three of the four kids are teenagers, it's a good life. And my self esteem just keeps improving. Life is good!

Lows: Oh, do you really wanna hear? (I've been drinking, mind you...). Well, there's the guy my birth mother picked up in a bar one night when I was eight (I spent a lot of nights drinkin' Shirley Temples and sleepin' in bar booths) and accepted a ride home from, only we didn't go home, we went to his place, and, well, she'd had one too many Bloody Marys, and I suppose you can imagine what happened next, after she passed out and Camaro boy and I were left to ourselves on the sofa watching TV. Not as bad as it could have been, but bad enough. (I wouldn't go into bars regularly until my thirties.) Then there's the night my birth mother "sold" me to my father for a hundred dollars when I was nine (which is also a high point, since I got to go live with my father and at least get regular meals for a change, though he was no picnic; my birth mother wouldn't get out of the car until he gave her the hundred dollars, and I was begging him to take me with him...). Or, skip ahead a few years to the night before I left for college, when I went to see my birth mother at the mental hospital, and she'd gotten so skinny and grey and toothless that I didn't recognize her when she called my name; I just kept thinking, how long does it take without food to get that skinny. Then there's the time I actually got to see my father die right before my eyes; bastard turned blue for a second just like they say; my half-brother who's a doctor tried mouth-to-mouth, but no dice. Imagine, mouth-to-mouth on your own father. The funeral for my three-year-old niece who drowned in her foster family's pool (a daughter of my half-brother on my birth mother's side) was also fun; white lace coffin, lips coated like cake frosting. I could go on, but I think that'll do for the highs of my lows for now. It's not a competition after all. We all have our sad tales. (Is it any wonder I had trouble with playground conversation?)

Highs: Many, many. I was concert master for my high school band senior year when we went to England and got to walk out on stage with the audience all hushed and waiting to tune the band... way cool. Puppy love crush when I was 14; we hooked up on a canoe trip and dated for almost a year. Full scholarship offers from seven different graduate writing programs around the country (sorry I went for the palm trees, love). Our Vegas wedding... the best high of them all. I tell jon he's living in my heaven... I figure, at some point, I actually died, and I was given the opportunity to go back and relive any part of my life I wanted, and so I got to be with jon again. That's my heaven, and if there's never another high ever, I'm happy. (Weird thoughts for an atheist, I realize, but come on folks, how could I be anything else?)

(Not sure I should post this... it's definitely too much at once. I'm not really a cliff diver... Well, it'll all be in my future memoir anyway, which I don't plan to write until I'm at least fifty, tentatively titled, Gutter Rat. Maybe no one will see this.)

You know these are the threads that make me love this place even more so. Thank you Miko. I just love you all, equally, and I am so happy and lucky that I found you. I just wish we all opened up like that to the people around us in real life.

A heartening thread...like I hoped it would be. I'm glad everyone made it through the lows, because we sure would miss ya if you weren't here.

Wow! If my insomnia powers weren't waning I would chime in as well. Very interesting, heartbreaking, heartwarming and then affirming stuf here. There's so much more to people than quips and jokes and ironic exclamation points. And I'm honored to get to read some of what lies beneath the surface.