I’m More Than a Plucky Saying on Pinterest ™

Photo by Yu Wang on Unsplash

I say that, but I cannot convince myself that I mean it.

I could list 100’s of positive assertions, including:

• I am enough
• I live with a purpose
• The less you respond to negative people, the more positive your life will be
• Mistakes are proof that you are trying
• Love the way you look
• Every prayer is a positive thought that will change your life

Heck, I have even made up one: “I have depression, depression does not have me.”

But repeating these mantras day after day, situation after situation goes only so far. In the end, there must be movement, action of some sort. Getting yourself prepped and prepped up to face the world is great but leaving the house and facing the world is priceless.

I wish it was as easy as saying, “I sometimes can’t get going because depression will not let me.”

You can believe that I have thought about this extensively. I cannot seem to let it go. Am I struggling because I have depression, or am I using my depression as an excuse to not get started? I’m beginning to see a pattern here. And I don’t like where the light is beginning to shine.

Having a mental illness to lean on, I can justify almost any action or inaction.

For a moment, I am not bringing guilt and shame into the equation. Once these two are a factor, I am a mess. It is easy to feel guilty for not doing something and to feel shame if I do. Of course, it can easily go in reverse, feeling shame for not being brave enough to do something and feeling guilty for doing that thing.

I always return to the one thing I can control, my attitude towards events.

This has been a focus for over 39 months, and I am still not very consistent in practicing it. Maybe if I tell stories about these situations, I can see where I get stuck. Storytelling is fun, and if I think about a specific situation, I can dissect it within the framework of a story.

Let me give it a try:

Why I no longer speed

I had never been very heavy on the gas until I started commuting 1 ½ hours to work. I took every opportunity to traverse back roads at any speed I could handle. These were speeds I would never think of using with someone else in the truck. I justified my need for speed to make the commute as short as possible.

I had seen deer in fields and on the sides of roads, but until October, none had stepped into oncoming traffic. That said, it was 11:15 PM on a Tuesday. The sidewalks of the town of Orange had been rolled up hours ago. There is one light on a telephone pole in front of the Harley Davidson dealer on route 20. As you pass that, there is a T intersection just past the Dairy Mart, where I must turn left to go beneath the railroad bridge.

Once I thought I would go through the town center rather than taking the by-pass.

This completely backfired and made me late for work. A train with over 100 cars lumbered through the town, stopping traffic from getting anywhere. It took 14 minutes for the train to clear the tracks and the guard bars to raise. I never took the scenic route through Orange after that.

So, after going under the bridge, and through the town’s second stoplight, I reached the continuation of Route 20. On the right is the visitors center for one of our former presidents, Dolly Madison. A home built in the early 1800s is straight ahead after I make the left turn.

The speed limit is 25 mph as you leave the downtown area.

After passing the funeral home with its two-story tall front porch support columns, the road rises and falls as you reenter the country and its darkness. It was on one of these hills, that I hit deer number one. I was still emerging from the speed zones and was able to nearly stop before catching the deer’s side. It scampered off mad, but as far as I could tell, unharmed.

The second deer I hit was between two pastures.

At night it is impossible to see the pastures because of the trees which line the road. I was clipping along at a speed I would only use by myself. And the deer just appeared out of the darkness. I struck it with the passenger front down near the fender. It was mostly the tire that hit the deer, not the composite plastic that made up the fender. There was no real damage to the truck.

I am sure I did some damage to this deer, and I felt terrible about it.

I was not able to find the deer. Even the next day, I could not find a trace of the deer in broad daylight. There were no swarming vultures or blood trails on the road or in the grass leading to the field.

Deer number three cost my insurance company $3,650, of which I had to pay $500 out of pocket.

Once again, after leaving the town of Orange, after 11:20 PM, I was at full highway speed, 55 mph. In all honesty, it was much more than that by 10 to 15 mph. The moon was out so I could see the farmhouses and the large trees that protect them from the summer heat. I had the radio on and was listening to CSNY. Then it happened.

Bang!

The entire front of the truck shuddered as the deer jumped into my path. Slamming on the brakes, I stopped in the middle of the highway. Engine running, lights on, I get out and walk around the front of the truck, surveying the damage.

 The hood was crumpled, and the passenger fender creased. The entire lower cowling was crushed, one headlight cover was cracked, and the front grille had been pushed towards the radiator. Had the housing penetrated a few more inches, the radiator would have been pierced.

Not seeing where the deer ended up, I drove forward and turned around.

I crept forward looking for any sign of the deer. Twice I got out and walked areas where I thought the deer may have gone. Nothing. After a third trip up and down the crash area, I headed home.

Yet even after this, my thoughts as I got into the truck for my 90-minute commute were, “I have got to go as fast as I can, to reduce the commute.” When I mentioned this in passing to my wife, she said, “You know where the deer are, so why not slow down at those spots?”

My speeding was cured at that moment

Well, at least I slowed down where I knew the deer to be. What a stroke of genius to reformat the problem in a way that was a win for the deer, my insurance company, and myself. Sometimes we, meaning me, are just too close to the problem. Having an outsider look at what you are doing can be game-changing, and for me, in that moment, it was.

Now, when I got to the deer areas, at night, I was slow enough that I could stop.

Or mostly stop. I changed my attitude about the problem. And this gave me a new sense of purpose and a challenge as well as a mission to see the deer before they ended up in my grille. Slowing down in those areas where the deer spent time together was one of the best ways to see them first.

Oh, I did purchase and install a $500 steel guard that protects the front of the truck, the grille, and the lights.

I have not had an impact with a deer since those three deer all in that one fall. All it took was me changing my attitude towards the deer that were jumping into the road. Now if I can apply that control to other issues, I will be much more confident in, forgive my plucky saying, “living a balanced life with depression.”