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.

Chocolate Cake!

I had the opportunity to experience an environment for a while in my life where I was reminded over and over that "failure was not an option." I was informed that 99.9% of any goal was a failure. 100% was the only acceptable achievement and if that was missed I would have some serious explaining to do while listening to the cracking of the thin ice I was immediately moved on. I was even informed at times that I had to achieve more than 100% for success. Being a perfectionist, this was quite the environment to experience. During this time I often thought about the story of a young man around 12 years old that wanted to surprise his mom one day by making a chocolate cake. He had baked a cake before with his mom so he was quite comfortable with doing it and when all was said and done he was very pleased with the cake he had made. The only thing he hadn't learned was his mom's cleaning ability after baking. He had made a terrible mess of the kitchen but he had proudly put the chocolate cake on the counter for display. It wasn't long before his mom came home and saw what her son had done. She looked around and saw the mess and berated him explaining every little thing that was wrong. The boy left with his head down and went to his room. The mom had been so focused on the "mess" her son had made that she didn't see the cake proudly displayed.

After being diagnosed with severe depression I simply felt like a failure. I felt I let my family down. I felt I let friends down. I felt I had let me down. I felt I had let every possible thing down. In my eyes I was a failure and that was simply it. There were many days that I didn't leave my bedroom or bed for that matter and all I could think about was everything that went wrong in my life. I had grand illusions of an early retirement and now getting out of bed was a big accomplishment. I was introduced to many demons that simply wanted to fight and at times I would feel like I would simply lay down and let them hit me over and over. I was starting to lose my identity and was being defined by failure. Simply to say I understand dark times. I remember sitting on the nice leather sofa one day talking to my psychologist. He would usually start with how I was feeling and then ask me how I felt about that, which was always my favorite ... I hope you are feeling the sarcasm here. Anyway, I told him about feeling like a failure. This is something that truly was and is a huge brick wall that I am working at constantly breaking down brick by brick. One day he said something that simply clicked for me that I have to tell myself over and over. I may have "failed" at ab&c (place whatever you want here) but that doesn't mean that I am a failure. In fact, ab&c may actually be a small piece of the whole me. Simple this may seem I can't tell you how many times this has helped me.

When getting ready to do this Blog I thought a lot about what I should call it. I was tempted to go with "I like Egg Nog" but felt it may be off topic a little. I almost went with "I am depressed. Now What" but it just didn't feel right and then it hit me. For me, saying "I have depression" reminds me that depression is an illness and doesn't define me, it is something I have. Saying "I am depressed" makes me feel like it defines me in some way. Yes, I know this is word play a little bit but heck I will take any word play in a heartbeat if it helps me beat my demons. I can tell you that looking at it that way has helped me see more of the chocolate cakes around me rather than the messes in the kitchen. I find myself being a little kinder rather than wanting to pick a fight with any moving thing that may have made a mess in my eyes. Even though dark days still come I am learning just how much I like chocolate cake.

What Happens When The Boot Straps Break?

In my life I have always had the view of when things got tough to just "pull up the boot straps" and keep moving on. Truth be told ... I really don't even know what boot straps are. Anyway, what happens when those lovely boot straps break? What happens when you dig your cleats in a little deeper preparing for the next "hit in life" and your cleats break? I love wood working and have sanded plenty of wood in my time. I can't tell you how much I love electrical sanders by the way. If I don't change up the sand paper when needed and just keep grinding away eventually there will be some serious damage ... yep, speaking from personal experience. So what happens when our brain breaks for whatever reason?

How come it is okay for a person that has broken their arm to go to the doctor and get a cast on it and nothing ever second guessed about it ... it's just what you do when you break your arm. However, when one's brain is broken there's the big question mark. When I finally went and sought help because I knew things were right with my brain I felt embarrassed and even ashamed. I didn't want any one to know. I felt it made me lesser of a man somehow. I doubted all my abilities in life and traveled down a dark road. I get it how dark those times are. It consumes you. It strives to define you and the loneliness is unbearable even when you are surrounded by loved ones. Oh, I get how the dark times try to convince you how alone you are.

I am letting myself now understand that depression is an illness. When those boot straps break, you STOP and get them fixed. When the cleats break, you STOP and get them fixed. When you break your arm, you STOP and get it fixed. When your brain breaks, you STOP and get it fixed. You, me, all of us that have mental illness need not be ashamed or embarrassed. It's okay to stop and work on getting well.