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.

I Have Money On This Game

I was fortunate enough to grow up in a family where I had cousins that lived close and cousins that visited often. On one of these great "get together" events, we went to go watch one of the local college basketball games. If I recall correctly, it was the first time I had been to such an enormous event. There was certainly two facts I learned when I walked into the arena; I was small and it was huge! I don't remember much of the game, but I do remember me, my two older brothers and some boy cousins getting permission to go get a drink, or go to the bathroom or whatever excuse it was to get a break from sitting down for so long. Apparently, we were very interested in the game. The main hall that circled the arena was empty leaving it to us to do as we please. I believe we circled the building a couple of times running and walking acting like we somehow owned it. The time came though where everyone was getting tired so we actually stopped for a break at a drinking fountain. Now being the youngest amongst this group, I was always last at doing this or doing that and at times had to forgo somethings I wanted to do. Well, it was my time to get a drink and the group started yelling at me letting me know they were taking off. I firmly held my ground and reached up and got a drink at the fountain, yep I was quite young and short. After feeling refreshed and content I held my ground, I looked up and I was all alone. I laughed it off thinking, my brothers and cousins hid themselves somewhere, but after a while it was clear that I was on my own not having a clue where to go. I must have had that "oh crap" look on my face because it wasn't long before a person that worked there asked me if I was lost. I was embarrassed to admit it, but was glad I had been found. This gentleman took me to the nearest usher and asked him to help me find my family. I will never forget the usher's response, "Really? Can't you get somebody else? I have money on this game." I can't tell you how awesome that made me feel. I can't remember how I eventually ended up with my family, but was surprised at some reactions. My sweet mom of course gave me a huge hug, but an uncle of mine got on my case pretty good for getting lost. After that he truly dropped down the list of my favorite uncles. Yes, I had made a choice to get a drink and not follow the group as they took off ... that was on me. I would take my mom's response any day though. As far as the usher, I hope he lost his bet.

Through out the battle with depression, I have found it difficult to really describe what it feels like and does to me. On some occasions as I have attempted to do so talking to some good friends, I have gotten the response, "it sounds like you have forgotten who you are?" I would agree to that at first, but always felt uncomfortable about it and didn't know why. Now, if someone tells me that I kindly inform them they are wrong and here is why. To me, forgetting who you are comes with making choices that lead you down different roads of travel that take you away from "who you were." For example, I may have been quite the gifted magician, but if I stop performing or practicing I lose my skill/touch and become more familiar with the man that used to do magic. Another example, if you are a Bible reader, The Prodigal Son is a great example. A son that gets his wealth and spends it unwisely forgetting who we was. In both examples, it was the choice of the individual leading them down a road where they forgot who they were. I DID NOT PICK DEPRESSION nor have I forgotten who I "was." I remember him too well. In fact remembering "that person" can hurt because I want to be able to do those things I used to be able to do, yet I have come to terms that dealing with today's battle is where my focus needs to be. To quote my dear usher friend back at the basketball arena, "I have money on this game." I've got everything riding on me that I will get this war of depression under control, by winning daily battle after daily battle and eventually win the war an enjoy winning the bet.

Did You Just Call Me a Bully?

I remember one fine day, I was walking down the large hall at my Jr. High minding my own business. The regular chit chat was happening, the same kid was being chased by the Vice Principal for who knows what this time, I had just walked by the lockers of some fine ladies actually getting a smile, and was headed to my next class. A group of larger guys that were in my same grade was coming up to my left, but being that we were at the top of the food chain, being the oldest grade I kept walking by. I never had any issues with them. Imagine my surprise, as I flew across the hall ramming into some lockers, no doubtingly creating the dents of all dents. Upset, I looked over at the guy that shoved me. Yes, he was large and yes, he was with his friends, yet, I gathered all my courage and looked at him ... and walked away.

Bullying somebody is honestly an act or emotion that I just can't get my brain wrapped around. As I have thought about the kid that gave me a free ride into the lockers, I actually feel bad for him. Did he feel so insecure about himself that he needed to provide "dominance" by hurting others? Is that how he gained his ever fleeting self-esteem? Intimidation, too me, is such an act of cowardice. You're bigger than me, or you think you're far more wiser than me, so you strive to hold that over my head to make you become some type of "better" person. Really? Needless to say, I don't like bullying and have made it one of my missions in life to ease that pain for anyone that I have witnessed receiving the bad end of it. And yes, you would think that lack of character would be out grown as adolescence goes adios, but sad to say, even adults can still steep so low as bullying.

Last week I had the pleasure of sitting on the leather couch I have gotten to know so well, visiting my Psychologist. We talked about different things and I received those lovely opened ended questions that I so love (feel the sarcasm). At the end of the session, he told me to be nice to myself and stop being a bully to me. I smiled as I left, but could not get by the point of me being a bully. That was like one of the ultimate low blows to me, but I understood where he was coming from. Case in point, I can walk around my house and yard and only see the "things" that I want to fix that have been calling my name for years. I can sit on the couch and contemplate my life, and the only things that call out to me is what I'm not "succeeding at." I can look at the mirror and only see the spare tire around my belly and finding a fourth chin. I could keep going, but I will stop. It's very easy to stand on the foggy edge looking down the slide of depression and falling down over and over. The pain is real and sadness is real, that comes with depression. I find it interesting that one of my "missions in life" about stopping bullying, I struggle with doing to myself, yet I needed to hear it. Even though, I abhor the negative and darkness of depression, understanding (not living) it more and being aware of it more, actually brings clarity to the steps and actions of working to be healthy. By no means is it easy, but to climb any stairs, it's always nice to see where they are.

Ted The Lion

There once was a lion named Ted. His actual name was Theodore, but being called Ted seemed to fit him better. Now Ted, was like any lion. He enjoyed running around, resting, wrestling other male lions, resting, flirting with the lady lions, resting and of course eating.

One day in the midst of his running, he felt a sharp pain in his back right paw. Falling to the ground, he looked at what could be causing such pain. In his paw, he saw a large thorn deeply wedged into it. Getting up, he tried to put weight on it, but the pain was too much. He reached back attempting to pull the thorn out, but it was too deep ... he figured he couldn't do it on his own. Embarrassed by the whole situation he walked back to his home only using three legs. He could only imagine how it looked to others, but there was no pain.

Days went by, where Ted just stayed home not wanting to deal with all the questions he would get about why he looked so funny when he walked. He would get frustrated and try to pull out the thorn on his own, but couldn't do it. Other lions came by asking why he hadn't been out and about. Ted was getting very good at coming up with clever answers.

After months had gone by, Ted was tired of hiding the thorn. He realized that there might be other lions out there with thorns as well that might be embarrassed. So, he made the announcement that he did have a thorn and was struggling with dealing with it. He got numerous responses of how proud the lions were of him sharing about his thorn. Ted felt good hoping he would be able to get his thorn out soon.

One afternoon, a friend of Ted's dropped by to see how he was doing. Ted showed him the thorn and how deep it was and how bad it hurt. The friend gave him a hug and told Ted that if he ever needed anything, to let him know and left.

Another day, a friend dropped by to see how Ted was doing. Ted showed him the thorn and how deep it was and how bad it hurt. The friend told him how much he cared about him, but didn't know anything about thorns. Ted never saw that friend again.

Ted had a close friend that would constantly come by checking up on him. That friend didn't have the best memory and would begin to wrestle with Ted hurting his paw. Ted liked his friend, but was growing tired of hearing his friend explain, "I don't know why I do that ... sorry." Ted liked the friendship so still hung out with his friend, but had to remind him every time about the thorn.

One friend would come by often and just spend time with Ted. They would fight the thorn together hoping to make some head way. After the attempts, the friend would stay with Ted and just hang out being a good friend recognizing how hard it was on Ted.

One morning, Ted looked at the thorn and saw all the progress he and his friend had made with getting it out. He was truly thankful for his friends strength. Ted looked at the thorn giving it one huge pull. Surprised, the thorn came out. He knew that he had to keep trying on his own, but he made no mistake of it realizing he couldn't have done it without the help of his friend.

It's All Up To Me

In my early twenties, which was not too long ago,  I had the pleasure of meeting a drop dead gorgeous lady at the church I was attending. Not only was she beautiful, she was an amazing person as well. There was a huge potential problem though. The church I was attending was made up of single folks. Yep, that meant there was far too many guys that were interested in this fine lady as well. I was able to do some digging and was able to get her phone number. I still remember to this day the phone number because I dialed 6 out of the 7 numbers hundreds of times not hitting that last digit because I was terrified! Now I had learned in my young life about the word "delegation" and even the word "favor." I had several good friends that would have called her for me, but how would that really look. Plus, even though they are friends, the looks of a gorgeous lady has incredible powers. I knew that I was on my own with this one. So, I dialed the 6 numbers and took a deep breath and hit the last digit. The ringing began and so did the fast beating of my heart. When she got on the phone I was literally out of breath. I must have sounded pretty ridiculous, but she did not hang up. I even got up the courage to ask her out but she said "no." I usually like to end the story there because it sounds so priceless, but she said "no" because she already had plans. She then proceeded to ask me out for another day but I had to say "no" because I had plans. Side note ~~ There you go sweet heart. It is in writing :) ~~ Needless to say we were able to iron plans out and we have been dating since ... yep, even after that marriage thing she will still go out with me and she still takes my breath away. So what did I tell her why I was out of breath on that first call? I told her I had been running around the house taking care of things ... yep, pretty lame.

So, I still meet with my psychologist twice a month and he still has his leather couch. He has stopped having free beverages in the fridge in the lobby ... perhaps it is because I always joked with him that if I was in the neighborhood I would always stop by and take one. My psychologist though is awesome. He has helped me get through the thickest walls and around the deepest holes in my life. I still suffer from depression and loneliness and of course the anxiety kicks in at the most inconvenient times. Lately, we have come across some "things" that I am working through. One of the toughest things for me is when all is said and done, it feels it is up to me to work on coping mechanics, it is up to me to be willing to share my deepest thoughts always, it is up to me to fight the beast of depression, it is up to me to keep taking meds and meeting with my psychologist ... it is up to me to fix my mental illness because in the end who can do that for me? With depression chasing the drive away to really do any thing at times, that "finish line" of getting through this appears farther away, even out of sight. When this happens, the roads of escape speak loudly. Yes, I suffer with this and is stinks badly. So does anything help? For me ... yes. For any others that may be fighting this battle let me just share what gives me a small glimpse to keep fighting. Not lose sight of my support: my sweet wife, awesome kids and few true friends. They can't do the "work" I strive to do to keep getting better but leaning on their strength when mine is gone is amazing. Not lose sight of the "I'm All Alone" danger zone. Yes, there are things that only I can do but it DOES NOT MEAN that I am all alone. Not lose sight of Divinity: I often look up and tell God that there is no way I can do this on my own. Simply recognizing his strength, mercy and love help me. Well these all sound pretty good, huh? They do, but for me are easily chased away as my depression kicks my tail. Yet, the thing I can control is keep trying every day ... like dialing six digits. I know that I will be able to dial that seventh digit someday and will totally be out of breath but making it will be worth it.

Trust, Forgiveness and Leo

Leo was a young man that lived in Noseville. Now Noseville was a village that had people with all kinds of shapes and sizes, from tall to short, skinny to ... um not skinny, big heads to small heads ... hopefully you get the picture. However, they all shared one perfect thing and that was they all had the perfect nose. What made it perfect? Great question. All of their noses looked the exact same. Well, as Leo started to approach making that change from boy to young man his nose slowly became deformed. It looked nothing like it was supposed to and even didn't work right. He was mortified and didn't know how to react. The good news was that Leo was a expert at disguise and created the perfect nose and was able to cover his deformed nose so hardly anyone knew. Only a few friends and his family were aware and even amongst them he still wore his disguise. Rarely would he take it off. One horrible day, Leo received news that a new law was passed in Noseville that anyone wearing a disguise would have to remove it. Leo was sick with worry. A close friend of his that new about Leo's deformed nose came to check on him. Leo was distraught taking of the disguise telling his friend that he couldn't do it. His friend proceeded to tell him that he was aware of the upcoming law. Leo was upset. He asked why his friend didn't let him know or fight for him. His friend got upset and punched him in the nose making it more deformed telling him his nose looked ugly. Leo ran to his family telling them what had happened. He felt comfortable around his family. Days passed and Leo wrote a letter to his friend telling him that he forgave him but he broke his trust and simply couldn't trust him right now. Leo was sad and missed his friend knowing it would take a while for the trust to be earned.

You may be wondering if I have gotten my hands on some bad meds and am writing this talking to pink elephants coming out of the walls. Know that is not the case but perhaps it gives a glimpse of all the crazy stories in my head at times. I share this because I have been thinking A LOT about Trust and Forgiveness. As I have fought the battle of mental illness I have had things said to me that have been pretty ugly and hurtful ... some that were clueless but others that were intentional. Now, I have a pretty thick wall of steel I keep up around me that I rarely take down but I have been burned by some after I have taken it down trusting them. I have watched movies when a person is in a tough situation and they laugh saying "I've got to go to my safe place" and mentally go there. Sure, I kind of chuckled at that. I have learned though that will depression I have to have a safe place. A place that I can breath and relax and not feel in harms way. I have been in situations where my "safe place" was impossible to get to and let me just say my mind doesn't hand it well. My brain will start looking for avenues of escape be it short term or permanent. Yes, I have had ugly things said to me and I do get to a point of forgiving them ... but the trust is gone. It is not like I am holding a grudge, it is me knowing that I can't trust being around them especially being away from my safe place because I have no idea what my brain will do and that scares the crap out of me. I work hard everyday hoping that someday I will be able to take off my disguise and be okay with it.

The World of Wants, Needs and Shoulds

I remember as a young one my sweet mom taking on the daunting task of teaching me the difference between "wants" and "needs." I found that the basics was pretty clear about food, water, oxygen, roof over the head, love etc. Things became quite blurry to me though when it came to toys. I remember seeing a yellow Tonka dump truck that my other friends had and I was positive that I needed it. In my mind I was 100% certain that if I had that dump truck that my happiness would increase immensely and having happiness had to be a need right? In fact, this was around the time my mom was teaching me how to pray. I remember kneeling down by my mom saying my prayers and at the end asking for the yellow Tonka dump truck. Well, let me just say I learned a couple of lessons from my mom. My mom helped me see that I would actually live without having the truck and that giving thanks during prayer and praying for others rather than a dump truck was always a good thing to do.  Well, I can say that over the years the line has been pretty clear between "wants" and "needs" with only a handful of blurry occurrences. About six years ago I went out to get some milk and came back with a computer. There has been only one time in my marriage where I thought I was going to have to sleep on the couch and that was it. I tried to find a positive side to it thinking maybe she won't send me out for milk again. Needless to say that didn't happen ... I just have to promise now that I will only get milk or any other things we need.

The first time I met with my Psychiatrist she asked me "what do you want to do today?" I thought the question was a little odd since she was the one with the "Dr." in front of her name. She could read my perplexed look on my face and asked it a different way, "before this day is through, what do you WANT to do?" I was perplexed again. I thought about certain foods that sounded good, kissing my wife and playing with my kids. She then asked if I liked movies and when was the last time I had seen one. I like movies but the last one I had seen had to be one of those animated kid movies. We talked a lot about a variety of things that day but she gave me the assignment to go see a movie. Sad to say that cool Psychiatrist retired and I met with another one who ended up having one of the coolest sayings on her wall ... it reads "Today I Will Not Should Myself!" One thing I found out very fast meeting with my Psychiatrist and Psychologist was that I wasn't allowed to use the word "should." This made answering questions or having any conversation quite interesting. I have learned that being a people pleaser I live in the world of "I should" so there is no balance when it comes to I want, I need and I should. Living in the world of "I should" brings no happiness at all because whatever you do it wasn't the "correct thing" because you should have been doing something else. That is quite the tornado to be caught in. Every morning I think about the things I want to do and the things I need to do and strive to keep the balance. Most of all I listen to what my body is saying during the day and work on making the right adjustments. I actually get a kick when a person tells me that I should have done this or shouldn't have done that. I usually tell them either I didn't want to or I didn't need to and watch their reactions. I will say that helping people in need for me is in the "want" category and who knows maybe someday I will buy two Tonka dump trucks ... one for a person that's down and one for me.