The Message that Matters

About a week ago, the Instagram account for Healthy Pour posted an amazing series that should be required reading for everyone who is in or enjoys the hospitality industry.

My first reaction was joy. Here was the message I’ve been trying to share for ages, being spread by people I respect and getting amazing responses. (The Healthy Pour Beyond the Bar seminar at Tales was one of the things I was most bummed to miss when my trip got cancelled.)

My second reaction was deflation. Their words are so similar to what I keep saying I want to write, but actually polished and posted. The internet tends to makes us feel like if you’re not first to a trend, then you’re last. For years I’ve had these thoughts swirling in my head, but when I sit down and try to type them out, anxiety, self-doubt, and imposter syndrome get in the way. Given that a week ago I was still wallowing in pity over Covid cancelling my trip to Tales of the Cocktail, it’s probably not surprising that “oh poor me” was one of my reactions.

Thankfully, I eventually landed on validation. At the end of the day, it’s the message that matters and the message that will make lives better on both sides of the bar (or table). Customers need to share in the ownership of and responsibility for their experiences and having more people saying so can only be a good thing. My work with the local chapter of the United States Bartenders’ Guild has allowed me the opportunity to straddle the line between customer and insider – giving me a unique opportunity to both amplify the voices of the people on the line and also add my unique perspective and experience as a “professional customer” (as one local bartender recently called me).

Follow @Healthy.Pour on Instagram, and check out the resources on their website, because they are doing important work for people who work in the hospitality industry. And if you want advice on how *you* can be a better participant in this industry, on either side of the line, submit a question here.

Hitting bottom, at the top – CW: Suicide

21 years ago last month, I tried to take my own life.

I’d been fighting depression and bullying in my senior year of high school and ending my life felt like the only way to end my pain. Once I made the decision, I was actually happier than I’d been in weeks – I was taking control! I was going to be okay! (By, you know, not being.)

I won’t say I regret that decision for myself, but I do regret the pain it caused people around me. For me, however, I had to go through that to get the help I needed. The days I spent in an adolescent psych ward were both frustrating and educational. I met other teens who were dealing with poverty, abuse, and addiction – some of them minimized my depression because I was a spoiled kid from the suburbs.

230215_8604379524_8979_nIn the past ten days we’ve lost two celebrities and, closer to home, I know of two friends of friends who’ve lost their battles with depression. Especially with people like Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain, people are quick to point out “oh, but they had wealth and fame and help and resources and this and that.”

One of the things that took me a long time to understand is that often, depression is WORSE when things are good. It’s so frustrating to look around and see all the reasons you should be okay, should be happy – and instead, feel worthless and hopeless. Depression is always awful, but the pain can cut twice as deep when you know you should be at least content.

In the past 21 years I have had bad times, some even worse than that senior year of high school. And I have had good times, such good times. Depression comes regardless of where I’m at on this roller coaster we call life. Depression doesn’t care if you’re a celebrity, a spoiled kid from the suburbs, or an addict.

Depression might not care, but I do. I share my story in the hope of reducing the stigma of depression, in the hope that it will make it easier for someone else to get the help they need before it’s too late, in the hope that someone else realizes they aren’t alone and it’s not their fault.

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