Weed ~ Not Mary Jane

Growing up my family had a large garden. We had tomatoes, carrots, raspberries, peppers, radishes, and other veggies that I can't recall. There were several reasons my mom had a garden ranging from the harvest it offered to the grand plan of having her kids learn how gardens work but also teaching us kids how to work. We spent a lot of time in that garden bonding with dirt but also bonding with each other. As Spring would come around we would prepare the ground by getting rid of all the lovely rocks and weeds making sure the soil was just right for planting and for those plants that would be popping up soon. When the soil was right and the time had come we would plant the seeds and wait. Now, I have to admit it was pretty cool watching the plants grow from something so small to something so big. I was always amazed at how the weeds grew too. Absolutely no attention was given to helping them grow, but those weeds kept coming and coming. With us kids being in school about the only time we could weed the garden was Saturday. Being that it got hot rather quick during the day and since my mom was such a morning person, she would invite us / encourage us with love to get up early Saturday morning and weed the garden. I always liked waking up to a rainy Saturday morning ... too bad they were so rare. As we began to enjoy the veggies and fruits it made it a little easier to take care of the garden and fight the weeds. As Autumn would come we would clear out the garden area and wait to do it all over again. Looking back there are several things I learned from taking care of the garden that  have stayed with me. Weeds always come and can take over the largest plant if not taken care of. If you don't pay attention to the plants and water them they won't magically take care of themselves. Speaking of watering, one summer I was asked to water the raspberries because my mom needed to run an errand. Now, my mom is a very smart lady. She built little berms around each raspberry plant so all you had to do was place the hose by the plant and when the water was close to overflowing the berms you would move on to the next plant. This helped the raspberries get a good supply of water but also prevented watering the whole area, which would end up watering weeds. I really wasn't in the mood to water them but I told my mom I would. After she left, I approached the raspberries and saw a sprinkler head on the grass. Brilliant! I quickly put the sprinkler head on the hose and set it in the middle of the raspberries and watered the whole area. I kept an eye for my mom so I could stop my amazing plan before she knew what I had done. After she got home she went outside. Before long I was asked to join her in the back yard. She asked if I had used a sprinkler head or filled the berms by each plant. As I looked at the plants and saw all the dirt was wet, I knew I had to come clean. My mom smiled and simply told me that I would be solely responsible for weeding the raspberries for the next while, which turned out to be way longer if I had just taken the time to doing it correctly.

For those that fight depression ... I want to say I love you and that I am sorry. I am sorry that you have to fight it and fight it and fight it. How I wish that it would just go away. I understand how it takes away any energy you have to get up and get going. I understand how the biggest victory of all for the day at times is getting out of bed. I understand how it feels to feel you are surrounded with a thick wall of darkness and no one can break it down. I understand the feeling of escape. I understand how you look at what you used to be able to do and long to be that person again. I understand the feeling of wanting to cry but being tired of crying. I understand the feeling of wishing you could go to the store and buy hope and peace. I understand the relentless feeling of sadness when you feel there should be nothing to be sad about. I understand the feeling of loneliness. I understand the feeling of despair as you think about the future. I understand wanting so badly for tomorrow to be different. I understand wanting so badly for everyone to understand what depression is. I understand how bad this sucks! So why do I keep fighting? To me, everything I just listed are like weeds ... they can keep growing and growing and consume you; however, there is something incredible underneath. Place your hand on your heart and feel that heart beat. You have purpose! We have purpose! You are important! We are important! So what causes my weeds to dissipate? Love. I'm not talking about the stagnant kind. I am talking about the love in action. Constant acts of love keeps those weeds down and actually gives me strength in the fight. Why keep up the fight? Because feeling those glimpses of hope and peace and true happiness is worth it ... almost like tasting a fresh raspberry.

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.

Perception Isn't Reality

In my history of employment I worked in a service oriented industry. I enjoyed helping out folks that needed assistance. I particularly enjoyed the experience when they came in quite distraught but left happy. I felt like I had accomplished something that added happiness to someones life like I had made an impact. As with any service industry there is a desire to know how the clients are thinking about the service you are offering. I personally felt like I always had a good idea because they would tell it to my face. Either they thanked me for the help with a smile or told me of their displeasure in a loud voice. Yet, surveys were put into place. I was amazed how over time the interest in taking the time to assist a client shifted to more of the interest in how our service was "scored." Rather than be concerned about what the customers issue was the focus shifted to be more concerned how they would rate us. And then the beastly saying was introduced ... perception is reality.You know, if the client doesn't have every one's attention when they need help they may feel that the reality is our service is bad. Let me paint the picture here. I may be in an office assisting a customer resolving a worry of theirs and bringing them peace. Yet, there also may be a client that is being impatient waiting for my help. What is the reality here? Am I being extremely helpful or extremely rude? One may say it depends who you ask. I would calmly answer crossing my arms making an x and doing the Family Feud x noise. The reality is what I am doing. Because someone may see it differently doesn't mean it changes the actual reality. Let's say I am given a very expensive pen. I may look at that pen and think, "wow that pen is very expensive I must be wealthy." I can guarantee you that if I went and looked at my checking account my balance would be the same as it was before I got the pen ... reality wasn't magically changed. If that was the case I would be asking for expensive pens all the time.

I find that I wear a lot of masks. Rarely is it when I have my mask off showing truly how I am feeling. Others perception of me may be really off if they see me smiling and "having fun" but most of the time it isn't reality. Yes, I understand that makes it tough on folks that may try to help; yet, with depression comes vulnerability. With depression being completely open to others is like someone going to battle in the buff. We wouldn't last long. I even have to admit that with even wearing a mask we can take quite the hits. I have had negative comments about my hair length or about the Coke I was drinking. I have had folks make comments that I know better. Honestly, when trying to discover yourself again that "know better" meter is taking a beating. Sad to say, even people that know I fight depression say things that are hurtful. The pain is real but I strive to explain it off that they just don't know how to act around people with depression. The mask is a two edged sword. In some ways it can be that thick skin you need to handle situations or comments but on the other hand if you look happy, you must be happy right?

I am slowly learning that there is another side of the nickle to perception being reality with depression. When buried in darkness seeing no end the feeling of having or experiencing any kind of joy ever again is completely gone. If you aren't suffering from depression take a moment and imagine what it would be like to never think you would feel joy ever again. Miserable suffering doesn't seem to do the description justice. I remember not long ago when I was hanging out with my cool kids and was laughing so hard I thought I was going to wet my pants. I paused for a moment and realized what was happening. I almost began to cry. I was feeling an emotion that I hadn't felt for months. It was a moment of happiness. I wanted to bottle that up and keep it forever. With my experience of severe depression I have had a couple of those moments yet they seem so fleeting. I know I fight the dark negative deception that they will never happen again yet I hold on to the hope that in reality they will.

Choice

One Monday morning a businessman showed up to the airport. This particular businessman was no stranger to the airport since he has flown almost every Monday for his employment. Like every other experience, he checked in his bags, made it through security and was approaching his gate. He always grabbed a newspaper to check on the latest rhetoric that was being put out but what he was truly interested in was the take on the previous day sports. As he was picking up his paper he noticed a small box of donuts that was being sold. Now this businessman had been working hard at keeping fit and was having success but he felt a little box of donuts wouldn't hurt so he purchased those as well. Sitting at a table he placed down his donuts and paper and was shaken by one of the loudest sneezes he had ever heard. Immediately turning toward the noise he saw a petite older lady with a hanky looking a bit embarrassed. The businessman turned back around and was a little shaken again by a man that had joined him sitting at his table. The man didn't say anything but gently nodded his head acknowledging the businessman. To the businessman's surprise, the other man reached down and opened the box of donuts, grabbing one and began eating it. The businessman was perplexed. He had never seen such a blatant act before but chose to hold his temper thinking perhaps the man was hungry and just wanted a donut. After the man had finished his third donut leaving only two left, the businessman began to feel his blood boil. At least the man could have politely asked or said thank you yet all he would do was smile back at the businessman as he looked on. The businessman couldn't take it anymore and reached down and grabbed a donut and took a big bite looking at the other man with a "how do you like that" look. The man smiled back, looked at his watch and left leaving the last donut. The businessman was still upset that the man had been so rude and unbelievably thoughtless. Taking a deep breath the businessman looked at his watch and realized he should start making his way to the gate. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and picked up his newspaper. To his surprise his unopened box of donuts had been under his paper the entire time.

I hold the belief that we all have the freedom to choose in this life. Some choices bring good things while some choices bring consequences that aren't too enjoyable. I have heard some say that if people aren't happy it is there own fault ... because if they wanted to be happy they need to simply be happy. Just like flipping a switch or something. I thought similar along those lines until depression pulled the rug out from under my feet. I even have to sadly admit that I would look at "sad" people and think why don't they just choose to be happy. It is ever so clear to me that no matter how close we may think we are to someone or how well we may think we know them we simply have no idea about everything in their lives. We may guess or we may even judge but caution has to come into play. As I have fought with the demons of depression I have heard the same statement, "it's ultimately up to the person that is sad to choose be happy. It's their fault they are sad." I hold no malice to that person but how incredibly off base they are. Such general statements can hurt the vulnerable folks that are fighting depression. I will even grant them a little leeway here and say, yes it is up to me to choose to seek professional help but there is no light switch to turn on immediate happiness. I have looked and looked and looked but it is not there. I wish it was that easy. Now I don't think the folks that speak of choosing to be happy are intentionally hurting people fighting depression. It just clearly shows how unknown and how misunderstood depression is. Yep, going with the broken bone analogy here again. I have had a broken bone before and no matter how hard I tried I simply couldn't choose for it to be fixed immediately. Here is what I do choose. Every night when I put my head on my pillow I pray that the next day will be a happy one. I pray for the strength to conquer the battles of depression that I can learn to handle it better and better. I pray for more glimpses of hope and joy and pray that I get to experience them more and more with each passing day. I pray that someday I will have the choice to simply be happy. 

Hit To The Gut

Growing up next to mountains during the winter meant countless opportunities to bond with snow. To this day I am still amazed how snow can add such a touch of beauty. But of course, as a kid I liked being in the snow rather than looking at it. Throw the fact in that I was in boy scouts with incredible leaders and that meant we spent a lot of time in the snowy mountains. One adventure, a leader had brought a klondike sled. No, this is not a sled made out of Klondike Bars, even though that does sound sublime. The best way to describe it is to think of a dogsled and boom there you go. It actually is a sled made for youth to do the pushing and pulling rather than a team of dogs. I believe now though I would prefer the team of dogs. We had a great time with that sled though. We would find any steep decline, point the sled to the bottom and shove off. Each one of us always looked for the steepest hill to out do each other. During the morning when things had died down a friend and I took the sled and found quite the steep hill. We decided that I would be on the back standing up and he would be sitting down in the middle. We pushed off and the adrenaline kicked in as I held tight to the horizontal bar in front of me about gut high. Snow began to fly by us as our speed picked up. I recall having the time of my life laughing and yelling and then it all came to a sudden stop ... literally. For whatever reason the nose of the sled went abruptly down causing the sled to come to an immediate stop. My body was thrust into the sled hitting the bar I had been hanging onto and then I fell to the ground. I remember hearing my friend laugh but I was in pain. I was terrified that I had broken ribs and was about to die since I couldn't breath. I gasped for air but nothing came. I had never felt this way before. My friend came up to me and saw how I was doing and started to yell for help. I tried to ask him for help and couldn't. I tried to yell with my friend and couldn't. A scout leader of ours was quickly at our side and looked things over. He realized that I had gotten the wind knocked out of me and assisted me with gradually beginning to breath again. After a minute or two of recovery time from our wreck we both stood up and looked at each other and knew we had to try it again!

Depression has a powerful way of constantly attacking your self worth and convincing you that you are all alone in this world. You question your purpose and what good you are doing. You question if people really do love you and think of you. You begin to lose any love you have for yourself. Happiness and Hope are flames that are constantly blown out as you wander in the darkness looking for some sort of relief. You feel at times like you are literally just hanging on to the edge not wanting to know what it means if you let go. You long for someone to stop by and tell you how much they love you and give you a hug but you don't want anyone to know about what you are experiencing. Mental illness is viewed in a different light somehow and you don't want to be seen in that light. I do know ... oh, how I know how badly you want someone to just say that they have been thinking of you and that they love you. Being reminded this over and over is so vital for people with depression.

Now I am doing to tread on some thin ice here but I believe it is important ... at least it is what I have learned and felt. This is not intended to hurt anyone but shed a little light. Wow, are you curious? Me too. As folks began to learn that I was struggling with something I was constantly told that if I needed anything to let them know. Now I know that the intention behind that offer was pure gold and I believe can be helpful to folks and I greatly appreciated it. Depression does put a little bit of a different light on it though. If we are struggling with believing people out there love us we aren't going to ask to be told that. Small acts of love go such a long way and means more than anyone can know. I have shed many tears from something as simple as smile and a whisper telling me they were thinking of me. I can tell you that as depression has constantly beat on me over and over to the point where I felt like I had nothing left those small acts of love gave hope, happiness and even the ability to breath again.