The Genesis of HaHaMen Part 2: Dave's Story

This is the second installment of my story, my testimony, about what God has done in my life, and how that led up to the creation of hahahAMEN, now HaHaMen. I'll pick up where I left off from last week.

As time went on, making people laugh and feel entertained was my one anti-depressant. A good evening with lots of laughter, and me hogging the attention, could give me just enough of a high to silence the demons for a few days, even a week. However, the smallest disappointment, the embarrassing joke that offends or that does not work, the constant rejection by women I pursued, all made the disease become stronger and stronger, making the drug less and less effective.

My value was in other people’s reactions and not in myself, and certainly not in Jesus. Fitting in was important. Entertaining was important. Being liked was important. Being a hero was important. This is why I never talked to anyone about what was going on. Who could possibly see me as valuable or funny or a hero if I was feeling like this?

The one time I did open up was when one friend was drunk and I had had a few as well. I remember well his reaction to my opening up just a little of how I felt. I remember his tact was non-existent, washed away by the beer and Goldschlager, and he told me that I was full of crap and being stupid. His heart was in the right place, but, to a depressed mind there is not a willingness to give grace for when the words are not well thought out and tactfully given. Therefore, my mind justified never opening up. The enemy felt he had won…it was only a matter of time before I listened to his suggestions.

The second time I tried to open up, I went to my doctor back home and asked for a referral to a psychiatrist. I went to one appointment. In 45 minutes, he dissected my life and showed me how much good I had going on, and that I had no reason to be depressed. He was Job’s advisors. He wasn’t treating the illness, he was denying its existence. He was telling me what my inner voice was condemning me with already: You’re stupid for feeling this way! There’s no reason to feel this way! You’re so stupid for feeling this way!

Which, of course, led to feeling worse. It was a vicious cycle of depression-condemnation-further depression-further condemnation.

In 2006, I met someone on Yahoo Personals. We met in early February as I was going to return my Rainbow Vacuum and quit the sales business before I even really started. We talked in the parking lot of the mall. We kissed the first time we met. It was nice. She said she was divorced and ready to move on. I was young and dumb. I fell in love. We, claiming to be Christians but not living in practice, ended up living together within 2 months. She stated she was pregnant, so the marriage we knew was an inevitability was rushed to August to try to beat the bump.

I proposed on April 1. Oh, the dramatic irony. We started to fight and she started to say things and do things that flared the fires of my depression. Nothing was good enough. We could no longer afford for me to be involved in wrestling. My meals were bland or too salty. The ice tea mix I used was way too strong. Nonetheless, I pushed through with the wedding because I knew she was the one. Even after she lost the pregnancy, I knew she was the one…all the negativity was pre-wedding jitters. It was all stress from work. It was all stress from the failed pregnancy. I knew we needed to push through. We did. August 26, 2006, I was married.

December 26, 2006, we filed for divorce. My MySpace, yes, MySpace, post that day was: “For Christmas, some guys got a PlayStation 2. I got a divorce.”

Now, the enemy had proof! He had all the evidence to convict me in the courts of my mind that everything he had ever told me about myself was true. The one person sworn to love me forever has now rejected me without hesitation, without tears, without a fight…because I am just not worth it. All the jokes, all the laughs, all the sincerity and all the concern, all the sweetness, all the love, all the care…it does not matter, ladies and gentlemen of the jury. David Aaron Ebert is not worth it. He is not worth the air he breathes. He is hogging oxygen that should be saved for someone with some modicum of value. The enemy had (thought he had) won. It was just a matter of time…

After the divorce, I ran from job to job, doing everything I could to get involved in wrestling and validating myself in locker rooms and in front of crowds by entertaining my hind-parts off. Wrestling crowds and the boys in the back had such amazing power over me. Their reactions and acceptance of me, in any way, validated me enough to survive most of the next week.

After a bad show, or if I wasn’t able to find some validation in making someone laugh in the locker room, the following week between shows was an eternity. It was a dry, dark place where the only thing keeping me was hopes for redemption the following Saturday night.

There was one morning coming home from an overnight shift at an answering service I came to a sharp curve in the road home. It was on the side of a mountain, with nothing at the bottom of the mountain. I was in debt with student loans. I was not doing anything with my life. Wrestling was really all I had. And, that morning, in my fog of fatigue, even that wasn’t enough. I stopped. It would be easy to floor it, let gravity and two tons of rolling metal do its thing…and no one would be the wiser. Overnight shift, car careens over the mountain on a sharp curve. Poor lad fell asleep. I prayed. I said, “God if You’re there, and you don’t want me to do this…say something…anything…if you want me to live, say something…please!”

Silence.

I did not hear from God in that moment. I never doubted God’s existence. I just never thought He loved Me. I never believed in the idea that I mattered to Him. Jesus loves someone else, certainly not me. Why would He? So, I knew He was there…but His silence offended me. His silence in that moment caused me to curse at Him. It caused me to let some of this sadness and depression to turn into anger. This anger made me live in spite of God. Given my condition mentally and spiritually, God letting me get angry at Him and living in spite of Him was the only way I would choose to live at that point.

The war God was fighting for me still waged beyond my conscious mind. All I knew was that I felt worthless. All I knew was that I had to entertain the following Saturday to give my life some validation.

Next week, I will continue with more of my story. My story will lead right into the Genesis of HaHaMen. Thank you for reading. If you have any comments, or any of what I have written has touched you, please let me know.

God bless!

-Dave

#Improv #faith #Christianity #HolySpirit #God #prayer #fighttheenemy #suicide