Walking On Water: Not As Easy As One Might Think

Life is good. I live on the Costa del Sol, right on the beach, with unobstructed views of the Mediterranean Sea.

I have an amazing husband, San Geraldo. After 33 years together but only 3 years legally married (as permitted by the State of Iowa), I still find it challenging to call San Geraldo “husband.” In English, that is. In Spanish, the word “marido” rolls off my tongue and, here at least, never receives even a raised eyebrow.

THE INSTRUCTOR (RIGHT) SEEMS TO HAVE PERFECTED WALKING ON WATER.
THE GUY IN BLUE IS GETTING THE HANG OF IT.

San Geraldo sometimes is semi-high maintenance but, even then, almost always entertaining. He’s fascinating, loving, intelligent, funny, curious, innocent, worldly, kind, empathetic, and generous. Not to mention good-looking. He gave me an incredible extended family that changed my life. He loves my mother and brother and would do anything for them. And they both love him — as did my father.

THAT’S QUITE A TAN LINE.

We’ve had amazing opportunities and adventures in our lives — before we met and in our years together. We’ve lived in exciting and beautiful places in the United States and, for these past 3+ years, in Spain. We have some truly exceptional friends.

NOT GIVING UP.

Some people who know me know full well that I’m flawed. Some think, I imagine, that I’m more flawed than even I would like to believe. Some who know me think my life has always been blessed and, therefore, they don’t understand how I could ever be unhappy — about anything. Others know me, my flaws, my blessed life, and they understand. I’ve always wanted to be perfect and I’ve always been disappointed with reality.

ALMOST STANDING.

I’ve talked about my Clinical Depression (Major Depressive Disorder), in the past. I’ve lived with it all my life, but only learned what it was when I was 32 and began finally to be treated for it. The only thing that works for me is antidepressant medication. After taking meds the first time for about three weeks, I woke up one morning and didn’t recognize myself. I didn’t dread the day. I didn’t hate what I saw in the mirror. I didn’t go to bed that night hoping I wouldn’t wake up the next day.

If you’re interested in reading more about Clinical Depression, click here for the Mayo Clinic’s helpful info.

HE AND THE BOARD DID FINALLY RESURFACE.
(TOO BAD THAT’S HIS PADDLE AND NOT A SNORKEL.)

It took me years to accept that the “Medicated Me” was the real me and not simply a doped up happy idiot. Depression is a constant in my life. Medication works for a while. Then it doesn’t. Dosage is perfect. Then it isn’t.

After more than 3 months of saying to myself, “Oh, these mood swings are just temporary,” I finally realized (accepted) that, “No, they’re not.” So, the medication is back up a bit. I’m looking forward to feeling like myself again (that other person it took me years to get to know as myself).

NEARLY LOST HIS SHORTS THAT TIME, BUT STILL BACK FOR MORE.

I suppose I just wanted to say that, as you probably well know, life is rarely as easy as it might appear.

I ADMIRE HIM.  HE NEVER STOPPED TRYING.
BUT HE’S THINKING PERHAPS HE SHOULD HAVE JUST RENTED A CAR.

And it sure helps if you have a chance to laugh whenever you manage to come sputtering back up for air.

Author: Moving with Mitchell

From Brooklyn, New York; to North Massapequa; back to Brooklyn; Brockport, New York; back to Brooklyn... To Boston, Massachusetts, where I met Jerry... To Marina del Rey, California; Washington, DC; New Haven and Guilford, Connecticut; San Diego, San Francisco, Palm Springs, and Santa Barbara, California; Las Vegas, Nevada; Irvine, California; Sevilla, Spain. And Fuengirola, Málaga..

Share your thoughts and experiences. It's always nice to know I'm not alone.