Sit on the Pot and Keep it Balanced

When I was a youngster in high school a good friend of mine and I decided to take a weight lifting class. Now, the reasons for doing this ranged from being able to tell girls we were in a weight lifting class to actually trying to get buff. Of course though, the biggest reason was for the ladies. The first couple of days brought all sorts of emotions and feelings but the strongest feeling was pain. As my friend and I would walk up to those lovely weight lifting machines we really had no clue how they worked. We sure pretended like we did but we had no earthly idea. We would always let the other guys waiting for the machine behind us go first so we could get some sort of glimpse of how to use the darn things. When we took our turns we really didn't want to look like wimps so we usually left the weight the same the person was using before, which ended up reeking havoc on our muscles. I became pretty good at showing others the weight I was lifting wasn't that bad at all but holy crap was I hurting. The nice thing about the class was that it was during the period right before lunch. I lived close enough to the school where I would run home for lunch and take a shower. Doing lunch at home was always a shooting match though because there were times I just didn't leave on time to get back to school which would end up getting that lovely tardy thing checked. Who knew you could fail a class for excessive tardies ... I mean I was there and doing the work, right? Anyway, those first couple of days of lifting were brutal. I remember taking a shower after the class and not being able to raise my hands above my shoulders. My friend and I were hurting in a bad way but it always felt good to tell the ladies that we were lifting weights. Eventually we did end up learning how to lift correctly and made it through the class. As the class came to an end the only thing I ended up with was a six pack and an understanding that the ladies really didn't care that I lifted weights.

You know, as I look back on the years I have suffered depression I have learned a lot about it and myself ... and still am learning. For me, it is truly like having your world as you know it turned on it's head and you left to figure out what happened and what the next steps are. I have no earthly idea if I will ever be able to "go back" to the person I was and truth be told I really don't know if I want to. There are characteristics about who I was that I would be okay leaving behind allowing me to be healthier. I do hope and work to be the good parts of who I was. Understanding depression for me isn't an easy thing to do. Sure, you look it up in the dictionary and it talks about sadness, mental illness and such but for me I think there is so much more. For me it's been striving to find the line between what emotions are caused by my depression and the emtions I feel from just experiencing everyday life. There is the question of why loneliness is so prevelant an emotion I feel daily and why it crescendos so rapidly if I haven't heard from any one for a day let alone my friends. There is pain in loneliness that truly hurts and can hurt badly. I remember watching a comedian once who was telling what his mom would tell him to do if he was in pain. "Oh, your stomach hurts ... go sit on the pot. Oh, you have a headache ... go sit on the pot. Oh, you have cut your elbow ... go sit on the pot. Oh, your finger was cut off ... go sit on the pot." The way he said it made me laugh til I was crying. Too bad it just isn't that easy. I recently was talking with my psychologist about the pain of loneliness and expressed how I feel I need more love from others besides my wife in my life. He did one of those smiles and told me that I am making progress. Of course, I sat back on the leather couch thinking oh man I have finally broke him. He then proceeded to help me see that in my journey how perhaps I have made a step forward or so. This one I will keep close to my chest for now, maybe sharing later when I am ready. I wish that meant that the pain would be gone or that I could smile and mean it more. I am immensley glad and full of thanks though to have someone professionally to talk to and even though I am hurting he can help me see that I am taking a step. For me there is a clear distinction though between "working through the pain" that came with weight lifting and learning to tolerate the pain of depression. Sad to say, there are still too many that think one can work through the pain of depression. It just is simply not that way and those that think otherwise are just showing their lack of knowledge and understanding. In fact, that mentality actually hinders more than anything. That's all the attention I want to pay to those folks for now. Anyway, for me I have learned that I am the extreme of all extremes. I either give until there is nothing left to give and after that still try to give or I extremely dislike the world and pretty much everyone in it. Even though  pain and I seem to being spending more time together lately I know that I took a step to finding the balance and that is something that gives hope to keeping hanging on.

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.

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.