20 Items or Less!

I enjoy grocery shopping. Heck, I will even whistle every now and then and even do it while trying to find an elusive product. I even stick to the list, unless I want something that calls out to me. I'm even okay with waiting in the check-out line if needs be. But you know, every now and then I just want to get a box of twinkies and a Frank Sinatra cd and get in and out. That's why I have a friend, I like to call the "Fast Lane" or "Express Lane" or even "20 Items or Less." Now let's address my pet peeve ... and I'm not talking about my pet, if I owned one! I have my box of twinkies in one hand and good old Frankie in the other while I walk up to the "20 Items or Less" check out with a big old grin. Most cases my friend and I get along, but then there's the time I walk up and someone is there with a cart full of groceries. I pretend to smile and start counting all the items in their cart. I'm cool with some overage. That can be expected. Yet, when double or triple the count of twenty occurs I find myself looking at the clerk, still with my huge fake smile now. Don't worry, I get it. There was probably no one in line and the clerk let the customer with the plethora of groceries come on over to them. If that's the case, it should be called the "20 Items or Less, Maybe or Maybe Not" line! Don't worry, I get it. I can hear the calls now of needing to be patient or taking the opportunity to be patient. Just a thought though, what if I did the "Express Lane" because that's what I needed or simply could do? What if there is man out in the parking lot with a fever and a cowbell isn't working, so the next best thing was twinkies and Frank? Ah, but just take a deep breath and you can handle it. Right?

I'm not a big fan of having a cold or some type of sickness that kicks me in the backyard and keeps me in bed for a couple of days. I like to be up doing things, accomplishing things ... just getting them done with. Every now and then I will try to get up, but the strength is gone. Even making it to the bathroom can be the mission of all missions, because there is no energy! Then that glorious day comes when the sickness has done its thing and it is gone! It's like hearing angels sing!

One area in my life that I let define me far too often is simply getting things done. Cleaning around the house, projects, the to do list (that I've created), even finishing orders for the little company my sweet wife and I have going. The list could go on and on. What I see me do, is usually how I define my value. Then the rollercoaster of mental illness kicks in. There are days when I just sit around thinking or bonding with my bed letting the hours slip away watching show after show on TV. Why? Because I'm lazy? Imagine walking around the house looking at every little thing that has to be done and you just can't do it. Thinking about every little thing that needs to be done and you just can't do it! I can tell you that sitting around just thinking or watching TV all day is like trying to take a shower because you've had the stank for four days, and all you get is a drip here and there of cold water. Some may look up at the shower head and say, "hey, work!" I bet that would do the trick.

For me, there isn't the feeling of weakness or no energy when you're ill. Or when you have that lovely sweaty feeling of pain. My energy level is up, it's just the will that has taken the blow. Will Power! Will Power! Is all I can hear when I search for any will to do anything. It's hard to suck it up and increase the level or power of "will" if it's simply not there. How demeaning and destructive when you want to do something so bad, but your mind tells you nope! Add to that the defining of me is by what I accomplish. Not a fun game to play! It may seem hard to grasp. I know it was for me at first, but now that I live it I can tell you it is real and is awful!

I'm still alive though and I plan to be! I'm learning and have learned to redefine what I call accomplishments and acknowledge what each day is looking like of what I can do. There are days that I get a lot done and I feel good about every simple one. There are days that I get a few things done and that's okay! Even though the judgement of society may label me as lazy on some days, I give them the finger (the pinky of course) and know sometimes it's twenty items or less and I'm fighting for that to be not only okay, but awesome!

The Force Doesn't Work Jerk! Next?!

I remember learning about faith in church when I was a young boy. To me and what my awesome little brain took in was quite simple; if you have enough belief in something it will happen. I thought this was the coolest thing in the world! It was like the force from Star Wars. Yep, I am honored to have been old enough to see those incredible movies when they first came out. Well, I remember sitting in the congregation as a meeting was getting ready to begin. I figured it was time for me to try this faith thing. Thinking about it I really can't tell you why I didn't try my new "faith" magic power at home. Anyway, the time was here. A song had been sung and a nice lady was getting ready to say the opening prayer. I bowed my head and closed my eyes preparing for this first great experience of faith. I closed my eyes tighter and began to repeat something over and over, "she will fall down the stairs. She will fall down the stairs." Yep, my first act of this great power was to make a lady fall down some stairs. I'm thankful the man upstairs is very forgiving. Now, I'm not sure if it was the anticipation or this kind lady was saying a lot, but the prayer went on FOREVER! Finally, she closed the prayer and graciously walked over to the stairs preparing to walk down back into the congregation. I watched on kind of nervous, but excited. She finally took the first step and nothing happened except walking graciously down the stairs. I was shocked! I was stunned! I was greatly disappointed! I looked around for another little minute and figured that was that and moved on to something else.

I have read numerous articles, blogs, thoughts, quotes, etc about mental health. I have experienced an epiphany here and there, have been frustrated, have been angered, have laughed til I about wet myself, and the list goes on. The point about mental health is that it is different in so many ways and so different from individual to individual. There are A LOT of opinions out there, and of course the lovely stigma that goes with it. At times, it's like I don't even want to read or study about it. Usually, I will just shake my head thinking, "wrong!" when I come across something so left field. And of course, it's my opinion on that. I get that. Every now and then I come across a line of thinking that actually makes me cringe when I read it. I actually feel compelled to comment about it every time I read it. Usually I don't, but then .... there is now. So the line of thought goes like this, "If you had enough Faith, you simply wouldn't suffer from Anxiety." Or, "If you had enough faith, your depression would be far less extreme." There are other variations out there, but I think you get the gist.

First, let me step aside for a moment and spit out some thoughts. IF and only IF, one is defining "Anxiety" in this line of thought as a little fear of something, or, IF and only IF, one is defining "Depression" as a little sadness, then I can give a little head nod here. However, and oh man do I mean however; if one is talking about mental health Anxiety and Depression they are carelessly bringing harm to many!! Why? Let me shed a little light here. Those that fight anxiety and depression and really any mental health problems think they really aren't worth that much. You may think I'm exaggerating, but the mind simply tells you over and over that you aren't worth much at all ... even a burden. It doesn't take much at all to explode any self worth that one has mustered up and fought for. Also, those that fight mental health problems have spiritual side effects. What do I mean? Imagine not being able to find a heavenly peace at all doing all the things you have done in the past to find it. "Man, God must be mad or must think I'm not worth anything at all as well" is the darkness of depressions biggest tool. So, if I'm told the reason I have these mental health problems is because my lack of faith ... boom! The impact is devastating to say the least!

Some other thoughts here. My take on this life is that we have hurdles, walls, skyscrapers to over come or even deal with the rest of our lives and having faith helps. Yep, that learn and grow thing. If it was all about just having enough faith though to make them simply go away there really wouldn't be a lot of growing going on. To me, faith is actually an act of love that we do. See, I simply can't close my eyes believing for something to happen, hopefully better than falling ladies, and do nothing. There has to be an act and it's an act of love because the faith is in the one with the greatest love, which is God. Making it through another day for the mentally ill is a huge act of faith! In fact, making it through a dark lonely moment is a huge act of faith! Saying one suffers from mental illness because of a lack of faith is simply a slap in the face from someone that simply doesn't understand. So, those that know someone with mental illness, remind them they are taking great acts of faith everyday! Remind them that over and over! And those out there that are fighting mental illness, you are awesome! You have an immense of amount of faith! I know it sure doesn't feel like it, but you do! You do! And that alone, makes you have infinite worth!

What Happens When 2+2 Doesn't Equal 4 Anymore?

Yep, I have to admit that in Elementary School I had a deep love for math. Most of my friends at that time would say "lunch" or "recess" was their favorite subject. I would say that too if there were any cute girls around, but truth be told I loved math. I actually looked forward to "larger" problems. Bring on the four digit or five digit long division! That's right, I said long division. No calculator or anything. There was a guy in my class that had a calculator watch, which was cool in theory, but when he let me take a look at it and try it, those buttons were just too small. So on came Junior High and I was taught that the letters "x" and "y" wanted to participate in math. A little weird, but it all worked out. As I climbed the educational ladder, my love for math started to decline quickly. It seems like the whole alphabet wanted to participate in math and numerous "laws of math" came in the picture too. I think numbers got the raw end of the deal. Letters seemed a bit like a bully. I mean when do you see numbers becoming part of a word. Sure they are part of codes and things, but you don't see a word like 7hello5. It may give truer meaning, one may say. What about pronouncing it? Well of course, the numbers are silent, one may answer. Really? Oh and my absolute favorite reasoning by a teacher to do math, "You will use this on later in life." Most of the painful theorems and laws ... not so much for me! Now I know that many folks use math in their careers and that the "laws of math" have helped create incredible improvements in life. That's cool. For some, it bogs down and clogs the reasoning of math and for me at times even question if 2+2 truly equaled 4 or if some letters could be used to even give more meaning.

I miss being happy. I truly have learned to appreciate in a profound way the emotion and feeling of happiness. Before mental illness set in I was asked a lot why I was happy. That and being called "mam" in the drive through a lot ... that will have to be another story. When asked why I was so happy, I really didn't have an answer, except that I loved life. It was that simple. Sure, I feel happiness now ... mostly spotty glimpses, some longer than others and I believe there are numerous reasons why. Anxiety and Depression are always unwelcome guests that show up whenever they want and don't politely tell you when they will leave. When they come, it's so much more about being sad. I read the other day one of the best descriptions about the feelings and emotions they bring. It's like the feeling when you trip losing your balance and you don't know if you are going to regain your balance or fall and get seriously injured ... that feeling of despair. Then throw on the feeling that every decision you make carries the heavy weight of it being life or death ... that permanent. When I began fighting Depression and Anxiety I felt like I was doing something wrong putting my life out of sorts. I wasn't happy so I must being doing something wrong. I would evaluate my life and think about the things that make me happy. I would go through every single one and couldn't find happiness. I even made sure my life was in order with my Maker and still no happiness. It had to be me and man I must have really messed up if I'm not feeling happiness with my Maker. That was and is the one truth I always hang my hat on ... and if that starts to shake, well let me just say the word despair doesn't give it any justice of meaning.

Man, I really painted quite the uplifting picture there, but mental illness isn't about feeling uplifted though. I don't have all the answers, but I can say that I've learned to know that when despair and darkness come from my depression and consumes me, it's not my fault! If you are fighting mental illness, please know that those feelings of darkness are not because of you! Mental illness is just that .,. it's an illness. Give yourself a break of feeling responsible! When you do so, it doesn't mean that "poof" it's gone, but I can tell you for me it's allowed me to focus more on spending the energy on coping and working through it. And sometimes coping is taking everything down to just the basics. For me it's I'm human and have a Maker above. Even this though is just a fight in itself. But that fight is worth it! As in any fight you get kicked around and beaten up, but there are also moments when you are winning! When you're winning enjoy those moments of happiness! If you keep fighting you begin to learn through experience about the demons of depression and how to handle their different strategies. There is no time clock on this though! It's different for everyone. Yet, through the experience of the fighting means more glimpses of happiness. There may be days, weeks or even months between these glimpses, but they come! Oh, the fight is real and I know it's a brutal fight that no one really sees. At first I wanted to have it all figured out and fixed in one day and really still have that desire when I get frustrated, but it's overwhelming. Starting the day with taking it back to the basics and even doing that 10, 20 30+ times a day is helping me learn how to cope ... not get rid of, but cope. For me I'm finding that when I focus more on coping and not focus on fixing "this" or getting rid of "that" , there are more glimpses of happiness.  

But I want to Play Now!

There are a lot of incredible sounds out there in this lovely world. I won't list my top ten, but I will say that one of them is hearing the snap of the net from the ball perfectly making it through the hoop. The swish. The nothing but air in a good way. The moment of pure bliss. Playing ball was a huge part of my life growing up and hearing that sound never gets old. It seemed like every spare moment I had I was wanting to shoot hoops, be it on my own or with my friends. If I had to pick though, I would choose shooting hoops with my friends. We played with anyone that we could ... those in our neighborhood, those that were at the park and even played more structured ball among our church. There were many years playing together, which meant we knew each other in and out of what we would do in different situations ... basically reading each others minds. What meant more though was we became close as brothers playing all those years.

The last year of church ball for us was sneaking up and man were we looking forward to playing, but we knew it would be bitter sweet. We knew we would all be going our separate ways from going to college, church missions or whatever was planned. This was the big finale. A couple of months before the season started I had a "medical procedure" done. I was told that it would be minor, yet it ended up a little larger than minor keeping me in the hospital overnight. It's always fun when folks ask me what I had done. I like to tell them it was just a medical procedure trying to dodge the embarrassment. But truth be told, it was truly a pain in the butt. Yep, if you play the game, "where is your largest scar," I get to say by my tailbone. The real pain though was that it would take longer than two months to completely heal. When I asked the doc about playing basketball, he told me it wouldn't be the best idea. Hey, I was young. I can't even come close explaining all the things that I did back then that weren't the "best ideas." So, in my mind I was shooting hoops. The season began and I was so excited. In practice I took it easy and noticed a couple of things that were a lot harder to do, but I wasn't about to tell anyone. The coaches knew what I had been through so I was told over and over to take it easy. Needless to say I didn't and man came the flood of frustration, anger, embarrassment ... you name the negative emotion and I felt it. I was awful! I was horrible! My go to move got up and left! I was ignoring what was glaring at me and that was I had to sit out. Not only for me, but for the team. I remember being so close to tears throughout the season as all I could do was cheer my brothers on and not participate on the court. I was able to heal, but just like we knew as the season ended we all went our different ways.

Next month will be the five year mark when my world turned upside down. I was getting close to the ten year mark of working with the same company. I was able to provide for my family in a way that their needs were met and my sweet wife was able to stay home with them. That had always been something so important to me. I believe that is why I held on so strong to not tell anyone about the suicidal thoughts and the extremely painful ocd and anxiety that began to consume my life. I was beginning to feel smothered with no place to turn. If I told my wife about what was going on, it would open up a future that I had no control over and really wasn't fond of the possibilities of the outcomes. If I didn't tell my wife, I knew my life would end up shorter than expected. To this day, I am extremely thankful that my sweet wife saw that I was spiraling down out of control and did something about it.

Well, I'm here experiencing that unknown future. I can tell you that it's hard and there are days that I truly hate it ... and I don't use the word hate lightly. Am I getting better? I will always answer, "sure" with a smile on my face. Two steps forward, one step backward is what some say. Sometimes it feels like one step forward and nine steps back and I couldn't tell you why. I guess the good times is when there are more good days than bad days. This whole "healing" time challenges me daily. I'm not the bread winner anymore, which means there are times my sweet wife isn't there for my awesome kids as often as before. One can imagine how my whole soul feels when I hear the importance of the moms being at home for the kids. I think I would rather have a colonoscopy daily. So yes, there are times when I jump back into the game wanting to do more than I can and I end up realizing that I can't do the things I used to be able to do and sitting out is important. Notice the word "can't" and not "want." The stigma of mental health is all about folks thinking that we simply don't want to pull up the boot straps and work through the pain feeling the burn. Truth be told, we feel the pain every day. Oh, and let me poke you in both eyes and tell you to just see better. I miss going on family trips. I miss the feeling of "providing" for my family. I miss being healthy. I miss the old me. Sitting on the sidelines taking time to heal at the right speed is hard for me. I have a hard time with either going way too fast wanting to do everything and do it perfectly compared to going way too slow hating the world and giving them the finger.

The bottom line for me is that if I know that I need to heal, then I know and recognize that part of me is not healthy. I've recognized it and am taking the right steps. Sitting on the sideline though watching loved ones struggle because you're not in the game can be a weight simply unbearable. The slippery slope comes when you feel like a burden if you're out of the game or in the game and have no sense of meaning or worth. If you get to this point or feel like you're getting close to this point, find a loved one and just spend a little time with them ... even making eye contact. They love you! They need you! How do I know this helps? I've done it myself more times than I want to admit. They may look at you a little weird as you make that eye contact, but let me say when I have done it somehow the love that is felt from them helps me heal.  

The Crying and Ride of My Life

In my teenage years, I had the opportunity to experience the "lovely" dating scene. The best way to describe that period of time would be to say, "It was the best of times and worst of times." I had my share of being dumped, which is far from the feeling of fun. I have also been on the other side of doing the "lets be friends talk." I had been dating a very good looking girl and things were going good ... did I mention that she was very good looking? Well, I'm not sure what came over me, but I felt that I needed to break it off because I couldn't really see any future. Crazy right? Was I growing some type of thing called "having character?" One evening we decided to go to a drive in movie and I was determined to break it off that night. The movie began while I got my courage up and began the "lets be friends" talk. She buried her head in my shoulder and cried the entire movie. Did I mention that the movie had just started? Yep she cried the entire time.

Though the crying was quite frightful, I experienced something quiet scarier when I was younger. A good friend of mine and his family invited me to go with them to an amusement park. I had been to this amusement park before and was quite excited. We had fun riding this ride and that ride and came to a ride that was new ... "The Colossus." This was a roller coaster that had you go incredibly high, followed by doing two loops and all sorts of sharp turns. Needless to say, I declined the first invitation to go. After much pushing and prodding and some comment about acting like a wimp, I gave in thinking that I had lived a good life. Standing in line I was able to watch two or three rides watching people scream, cry and other noises I wasn't familiar with. Let me just say that didn't help, but I was line and couldn't back out. The time came and of course, my friend and I were up by the front. After everyone was buckled in, the terrifying clicking noise began taking us to the top. I truly thought I was going to die. Reaching the top, the terrifying clicking noise ended and the coaster did a free fall down the track. I was swung every possible way and I think I even made noises I had never made before. After the terror began to come to an end I realized I was going to make it.

Mental illness is the most understandable, mysterious illness I have ever had. Yep, I know that I have been fighting depression, anxiety, ocd and ptsd for many years. Wait, did I say "ptsd?" Yep, that one I feel the most ashamed for because I never was in the military. Let me just say that it is very real and I hope someday, I may be strong enough to open up more about it. I do know that I fight these things daily, every hour, and at times every minute. I work on it every day striving to learn and apply coping techniques and am even adjusting my meds a tad striving to be able to handle "life." What I have fought lately, is the mentality of "aren't you better yet?" I find it interesting that people that don't reach out to me or want to be in any part of my support group, tells me that they have a friend with depression and they are "better, what's taking me so long?" Mental illness is just starting to be recognized that is something more common amongst us all, yet it is so individual. I would love to be able to see when this will end for me, but I don't have that luxury. Trying to do so gets very dark. Imagine going through hell not knowing when it will end. There is no vacation from it. Yes, the size of the jail cell may get bigger at times, but the bars are still there. How I wish I knew it would be over. Having a girl cry on my shoulder was difficult, but I knew the movie would end. Feeling complete terror on the roller coaster was not fun, but I knew it would end. For now, I can't see the end. I just focus on today and am thankful for loved ones.

Dear Ken,

Below is a letter I wish I would have had as I started my journey with depression, anxiety, OCD and PTSD. Yep, I am going to be quite open ... my hope is that it will offer any help to those that may be suffering from these, which is often done in silence. If I am able to at least help one, then this was well worth it.

Dear Ken,

First and foremost let me tell you how ruggedly handsome you are even with that patch of hair that is missing on top of your head and that salt and pepper look you have going. Nice job with the belly as well ... maybe you will be able to be Santa Claus some day.

Let me begin with shedding some light on some feelings you have been having lately that you haven't told anyone about. You know the ones I am talking about ... while you've been driving to work lately the temptation has really grown to drive your car into any cement post you can find preferably at a good rate of speed. Then there are those times when you are at work that you just want to stand up and run as fast as you can into the cement wall. Lets not forget the part of the day that you actually hate the worst and that is the end of the day. You have been staying late triple checking all the accounts you worked on to make sure they were done properly and yes you have repeated numbers over and over and over out loud to make sure they look right. You will actually get to a point when you have to say them 20 times in order to give you any sort of comfort. When the day is done and you have finally got to a point when you can lock up your desk you will check it at least five to ten times. You will even get out to the car and turn around and come back and check your desk again. These actions are not normal Ken. Something in your brain is trying to tell you something!!

The time will come when one day, with the help of your wife, that you realize you are not yourself and that you need to get some help. THIS IS OKAY!! I do want to be upfront with you though and tell you that the lovely ten year career you have worked on so hard will end up coming to an end. I know this will be hard for you to hear but its best you know right up front. You will end up seeing a Psychiatrist and a Psychologist. You'll end up giving the Psychiatrist the nick name of the drug dude and the Psychologist the talking dude. You will meet with the Psychologist first for about a month or so and then the drug dude. Certain meds will be offered by the drug dude but you really struggle with taking meds because you have no idea what they may do to you  ... you know all those kind "side effects". You think they would use a smaller font to make the list smaller. You decide to go with the meds route with the hope that it will add some stability to all the ups and downs you are feeling. You will end up trying several different types trying to find the right mix for you. BE PATIENT and pay attention to some of those side effects. One will happen which I won't mention keeping this letter rated PG but the other will take you lower than you were before. Now I know that is why you didn't want to try at first but you will find the mix that works the best for you. Little advice, you will get asked A LOT about how you feel from the drug dude as you take the meds. You'll kind of get tired of it because you really don't notice a difference except for those two side effects. The advice ... ask your wife is she notices a difference of behavior as you do the meds. She will notice a difference! Stay with your talking dude too ... he will end up helping you a lot!

Let me be very bold with this next statement ... you are going to feel a HUGE amount of guilt as you fight depression, anxiety, OCD and PTSD; GUILT ONLY COMES AFTER YOU HAVE DONE SOMETHING WRONG AND YOU HAVE DONE NOTHING WRONG HAVING THESE FOUR THINGS!!!! You're going to feel foolish for having PTSD because you didn't go to war or anything but believe me when the episodes hit they are ugly but you will make it through and they will eventually subside.

Ken, depression has a powerful way of making your very insecure! You will doubt everything in your life from your faith, friends, the future, the love of your family and even loving yourself.  As these doubts continuously attack you loneliness will consume you. You will fight feeling like a failure as you think about the future hoping to support your family again. You will see "friends" conveniently disappear. You will be left alone. You will base your self worth and how much you are loved by how many people reach out to you and visit you. Logically you will know better but you will fight the demons of loneliness. Some of your family simply won't understand ... one will even tell you to become a PE teacher because they don't do much trying to help. Some will even say they don't know how to show love. There will even be times when you go visit family that you simply disappear and almost disappear for good. There will be times when you support your wife and kids to go visit family and you are left alone. You will long for visits but only one will show. You will see that you have a voicemail all excited but it's a message about your meds being ready. The loneliness will become so dark that you hear the demons telling you to end it all and your strength to resist is so low. Yes, dude ... the times get dark and I wish I could tell you when it will be over but I don't but DON'T QUIT!

I will say this though ... I am convinced that you will be a better man for this. I know that's like saying getting a colonoscopy everyday will make you a better man not knowing when it will end. I can tell you that as you open up attempting to stick it to the man of depression that many will approach you telling you they have suffered in silence for so long and that you have helped them. As you experience the folks that just tell you to lighten up or really don't believe you or care just think about the effect you are having on others in your same shoes. 

Lastly, you will doubt God a lot but you will learn that He and The Savior love you unconditionally. You can't earn their love because they already love you!! There are a few that will stay by your side and show the love. Your kids and your wife love you and when you feel the darkness approaching spend time with them and give them hugs it will help.

Stay strong good man. You are worth loving and even though kind of goofy you are a pretty funny dude! Take it minute by minute if you have to but know that I care!

Love you dude!

Ken

Yet, They Forget

I was fortunate enough to grow up with a good group of friends. We were in scouts together, went to the same church ... even our scout leaders and church leaders were the same and came to know us very well. When I was a young teenager a family moved in our neighborhood and they had a boy about all our same age. We took him in and got to know him pretty well ... I will call him Rick for the sake of this blog. Now Rick was one of those guys that would do almost anything you dared him to do. This was a good thing and a bad thing. We got plenty of laughs, including him laughing, but there were many times he pushed the envelope too much with that thing they call safety. Anytime we went on an outing our leaders would have to keep an eye on him to make sure he wasn't doing anything too crazy. We loved the guy though and became quite close. You can imagine our surprise when one day we were told that Rick was getting off a city bus and went to cross the street and was hit by a truck going 40 miles per hour. He was severely injured including some brain damage. He wasn't able to talk and there was some question if he could even understand what was said to him. Our leaders informed us that they wanted us to go visit him to boost his spirits. We were terrified ... I was terrified. How was I supposed to go see my friend like this? What on earth was I supposed to say if he couldn't understand me? How were we going to have a conversation if I was the only speaking? I was pretty sure that I wasn't going to do this. Our leaders were very understanding yet explained how helpful this may be to Rick. They suggested that we draw pictures of our favorite memories of him and take them with us. Imagine ten teenage boys using crayons drawing pictures. It felt strange but we did it. In fact, I believe if I remember right all pictures were of something crazy he had done. As we made it to the hospital my heart was racing. I had my picture but I had no idea what to say. I could feel the sweat on my forehead and hands. We all gathered outside of his room and the nurse let us in. Laying on the bed hooked to all sorts of tubes and wires was Rick. It took us all off guard. His eyes lightened up as he saw us though. As we showed him our pictures he smiled and reacted with excitement. He even laughed a couple of times. He even smiled at me and my picture. It was so hard to see him like that but seeing him smile was so worth stepping out of my comfort zone. A week or so later we were sadly informed that Rick had died. I will never forget his smile.

Have you ever said hi to someone one and they knowingly ignored you? Have you ever made plans with someone and they dogged you on purpose or "forgot." Have you ever had someone say they will help you with something and then tell you "no"? Have you ever had someone say they had your back but watch them knowingly stick a knife in your back? Have you ever asked for help and got no response? I would guess yes and it hurts deeply. Add someone that is fighting with depression and having these things happen can be literally devastating. Yet, no one sees. We "look" okay because we don't have a cast on our head or don't have an I.V. stuck in our arm to remind people that we are hurt and suffering. There is nothing that shows the hell we are going through, the battle in our mind ... the thoughts of escape from the torment. The only way people know what we are going through is telling them or someone that knows tells another. When we run into them there is no visible sign of our torture and overtime they easily forget. Even those closest to you don't see the demons you fight over and over and they can get eventually callused to what is going on. They may even let you down when you ask for help. Yes, people are human and aren't perfect. Thus, those closest to you will fail you. I am a Christian and believe in my perfect Savior and know that he won't fail me ... yet it is tough to feel His love when I am consumed with darkness. You may be thinking "wow, dude that is a dark scene you are portraying." I would answer, "yep." There are so many with depression that literally suffer. To them, I would say you are not alone. That island you think you are on by yourself is full of others just like you. I'm sitting right next to you having a horrible day with you. I may not see you or know who you are but just knowing you are there is helpful some how. To those that may be nervous of talking to folks like us. We aren't asking you to fix us or give us advice. We just want to have our spirits lifted and you have no idea how your simple visit, text, email or whatever helps so much. If you don't know what to do, break out the crayons and draw a picture of your favorite memory. I guarantee you will see a smile! 

Norm and The Passing Train

I have a great mom. Making great memories for her kids was something so important to her and she was very successful at it. One family vacation she decided she wanted to go visit some family that lived up in Oregon. We could have always taken the car but she decided to spice it up a bit and take the train. Looking back at it now she was very smart too. What may have been "spicing it up" for the kids by taking the train was actually a way she was able to relax more not having to worrying about driving ... and trust me she deserved every bit of relaxation she was able to get. I believe I was around seven or eight for this great adventure and don't remember the whole entire trip but have some key memories. We had family that lived close by us then that were going to take us to the train station that evening, which was about an hours drive away. I recall going over to their house, having dinner and having a  fun time. Then it hit, for whatever reason panic mode hit the adults as they somehow realized that we were running late and might miss the train. I don't know if my mom forgot what time the train was leaving or if we were just having too much fun. Either way, I remember being told to get in the car and the journey began. During the drive I remember two things; the car was going faster than it ever had and that was really cool and I also remember hoping with all my little might that we wouldn't miss the train. I had been looking forward to this for so long and could feel the disappointment starting to seep in. Miracles of all miracles happened and we made it just in time for the train. So much hurry up and go to make it to a mode of travel of sitting down for quite a while ... but that was okay. That night as I sat in my slightly reclined chair in the dark I heard a person playing an acoustic guitar that was very soothing for all. At least I thought it was soothing for all until a train attendant told them they were bothering someone and asked to put it away. I was so confused how something so nice on the ears could be deemed as a bother. I believe that was my first introduction to how something so incredible for so many can be put in jeopardy due to one's slighted point of view. Anyway, the train ride was amazing. I saw so many beautiful views that I still remember to this day. Plus, we could have all the juice we wanted for free! It wasn't long before the beverage car employees knew who we were and how they eventually ran out of juice.

I want to be happy. I want to feel peace. I want to be able to hope and have that hope stay with me. I want people to really understand what depression is and how it takes control. I want to be Norm in the TV show "Cheers" ... you know "where everybody knows your name." I want to not effect others lives in a negative way. I want simply to have someone put their arm around me and tell me they love me. I am tired of being lonely feeling like I am on an island that no one knows of or pretends they don't know of. I want to be able to finish a task or project without it being the fight of my life. I want to be happy with who I see in the mirror (sorry, I don't like Michael Jackson). I am tired of losing my temper of power monger car pool ladies ... nope, not ladies ... women.  I am tired of washing my hands over and over.  I want to be unshackled from the dark demons that haunt me! Sound familiar? I know ... it sucks. Those that have depression, anxiety and / or ocd know ... they don't have to imagine what I am talking about. Yes, it is dark and yes it literally hurts but that is depression. I have felt at times that I am watching my life go by without being able to do anything about it. Like I am standing by the train tracks being told that the train is coming and that I need to be able to get on. "Everybody" else that is "normal" and living their lives in a "normal" way will be getting on. As the train comes I watch everyone get on. I try to move my feet ... nothing. I try to grab any handle ... nothing. I watch those that say they are there for me look at me helpless and then jump on the train. I feel hopeless as I watch the train disappear in the distance. Am I painting an ugly picture? Yep. Depression is ugly, stinks and is like that relative that you have to hug and kiss that literally makes you throw up in your mouth but it's there and won't let go. I fight this and as I look at the big picture it overwhelms the crap out of me! But I fight it and fight it and fight it. Why? Because I am determined to not let the SOB win. As I have fought this over the past years I have felt glimpses of joy and hope. Perhaps a chink in his armor or I have won a little battle in the war. Yep, it may feel like a train passes me every now and then but there are a couple of close friends that would rather stick by me than jump on the train ... they get it. They get and I get that a train will be coming far better for us. One that has better understanding, one that has better ability to love ... one that has far more hope than I can imagine. One that may not call me Norm but will call me Ken.

Mind Reading

When I was between jobs going to school I went to one of those temp companies looking for any type of employment. I received notice that there was some work available at a company that made mouse pads. Not football pads for mice but that piece of rubber looking thing your computer mouse rests on. I figured why not. My first day they put me on the easiest job, which was to put the backing on the pad. My "trainer" was a very polite older lady that was bilingual ... she was proficient in one but the other one she was learning. She and I shared the same language she was learning. As I sat at the table she would show me how to do the task at hand, watch me do a couple and then leave. Every now and then she would come check on me and my fantastic work. I would either get a smile or a frown. If I got a frown she would show me again, have me do a couple and then leave. If I got a smile she would simply leave. After working there for a couple of weeks, which meant I must have been doing okay, they moved me to another task. I was introduced to how they make a different style of mouse pad than the traditional one colored style. My job was to stand by a long rotating machine next to a large stack of paper. The paper was probably about 3 feet by 4 feet. My kind trainer was there again smiling ready to show me how to do this task. I heard a loud buzzer go off and part of the machine I was standing next to began to move slowly. My trainer pointed down to the end of this long machine showing me large pieces of plastic, about the same size as the large paper, was beginning to come our way. As they approached us she grabbed one of the pieces from the machine put it on another table while grabbing one of the larger pieces of paper and slowly placing it on the plastic, which had a sticky back. It was like she did this in one long smooth motion and she was good. After doing one she let me try, which I failed at terribly. I found out that the stickiness on the back of the plastic was very sticky and loved to hang on to your fingers and if any of the paper touched it it was staying there ... even if it was in the wrong place. My trainer stayed with me giving me more frowns than anything but after a while I got a handle on it. There was one time when I totally messed up and found out that if you missed a piece of the larger sticky plastic it would eventually land on the floor. I received more of a stern frown on that one. I worked at this fine establishment for a summer and I have great memories from it. Needless to say I don't look at mouse pads the same.

As I have fought with depression, anxiety and ocd I have gotten to know a new person and that new person is me. I was in my late 30's when this all began to happen and was pretty comfortable with who I was. I knew all the things I liked and disliked. I was quite comfortable with my strengths and weaknesses. I knew the things that brought me joy and what made me sad. As the fight of my life began there was so much that I had no clue I would learn about me and am still learning. I am delighted that I still don't like broccoli. How my learning would usually happen would be through experience that heightened the emotions of the mental illness I was fighting. I learned things quickly to stay away from and am actually still learning things now. One of the most important things I have learned is to share with my loved ones what those are. The importance of communication is beat over our heads over and over but there is a reason for that. If I am just learning what things aren't good for me to experience than how would my loved ones know? Letting them know being very specific is so important so they can help and be keenly sensitive. My caution I would give is when you tell them what things aren't good for you to experience strive to be loving and understanding if they still happen every now and then. I have learned that when that happens it's not malicious but more of forgetfulness. At least you know they are trying and that shows they care. You don't have to rely on just a smile or frown on how things are going but can be clear with each other. Giving them a hug every now and then doesn't hurt as well.