It’s not uncommon these days, at least in my part of the world, to hear about male depression. In Australia, it’s known as the Black Dog and it's getting a lot of high-powered attention.
Depression is characterised by changes in mood, lack of motivation and generally not enjoying life, amongst other things.
That’s how it was for me. Just a general feeling that things weren’t very much fun. Crappy moods. Not enjoying things. No fun to be around.
Like a lot of guys, I don’t/can’t/won't talk about it.
So, I got a Harley and everything was fixed. Right?
Well, kind of, but not exactly. The Harley was a circuit-breaker, something very different to anything in my life at that time. It snapped me back to reality.
I still have bouts of depression from time to time, some of them bad. When these happen now, the Harley gives me time to think. Time to be on my own. Not for me the addictive charms of an iPod with a playlist of my own (or someone else’s) choosing. All quiet except for the wind and the soothing sound of a loud exhaust. Not having to talk to anyone. Nothing to break the spell of the zone, when the corners, the road, the throttle, even the other cars on the road, seem to fall into perfect harmony. Stopping at the end of a particularly wonderful section and thinking, “How good was that?”
It’s not a cure, but it’s a fine start.
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