Okay, I know spelled future incorrectly. But am I the only one that thinks it would be cool if future was spelled with a "ph"? Then you could say, "aw, the three p's." It's like they were so close to making it perfect but messed up on the last word. Like traffic lights ... Green for Go, Yellow for Yield and Red for Rstop. Oh, so close. For those that need it spelled correctly, here you go: Past, Present and Future.
PAST
The past is something that is talked a lot about with many opinions. "Stop looking at the past and move on." "It's good to look back at the past and learn from it all." I guess if you go with the first theory of thought, the saying of, "do you remember when" would be something not brought up anymore. I think either thought is okay, to me it's not an either or.
PRESENT
The lovely, "now." As a kid, I would always think how fast "now" really was. To me it seemed like the quickest of the Past, Present and Future. One would blink, and the now we were experiencing had become the past. I have heard many opinions about the Present. "Live for right now and forget about any type of consequences." "Don't have your head in the clouds looking back at the past or ahead at the future and not enjoy the right now." I've learned that not thinking of the consequences is a poor choice.
FUTURE
"If you fail to plan for the future, you plan to fail." "Where will you be in five years?" "Don't be working so hard for tomorrow that you forget today." For whatever reason, I have a plethora of sayings about the future. It seems to me that they all seem so "final." If you don't do this, then you will be placed in this pigeon hole. You better do this or your family will be permanently slotted in this class of people. I've learned that clever sayings about the future may have good merit and intention behind them, but does not carry the weight to give me a horrific consequence.
Why the breakdown of the Past, Present and Future? I have been thinking a lot about these three labels of time lately and how they fit in with my depression. I can tell you that I don't like thinking about the Past. As I think about the time in my life when I wasn't fighting mental illness it brings me everything but hope and joy. I long to be there. For me it does more bad than good. I don't like thinking about the Present. My now is the fight of my life, with darkness, with guilt, with shame, with wondering who I really am. My now is wanting to be away from now. I don't like thinking about the Future. I can't tell you how much I abhor thinking about the future. If making through a day is a success, then when I even think about making it through a month or two it completely overwhelms me.
I guess I'm struggling with trying to figure out "where" to live. I feel it would be wrong of me if I didn't mention that the bright moments of living now, is the love I feel from being with my incredible kids and wife. The sadness is how fast depression can chase that away. I want to live and as I struggle to work through this, I strive not to think about the labels of time. I want to live and feel love.
Thursday, September 25, 2014
Monday, September 8, 2014
Choice, Part II
In my young life, I have experienced the following ... to name a few:
- Broken Bones
- Stitches (on more than one occasion)
- Torn Ligaments
- Blood Clots in my left leg (I had to give myself shots in the gut to fight this. Nothing like having a gut for a pin cushion.)
- Pulmonary Embolism ... Blood Clot in the lungs. (I was introduced to morphine ... wo!)
Believe me, I am incredibly thankful for doctors, meds and divine assistance and that I have been able to heal during those delightful events. They weren't fun by any means, but I made it through.
I recently met with my Psychiatrist talking about adding another med to the mix that I have been taking. As we chatted, she explained to me that the brain has eight major chemicals. When any one of those chemicals decide to do their own thing and not play nice, that's when mental illness can begin. The three different meds I am currently taking is to assist with three chemicals that are rebelling in my head. How do they know, which meds to give me? Thankfully, history has given the docs an idea what helps with depression and anxiety. The "fun" part, oh the sarcasm, is finding the right mix that works well for each individual. That comes by what I call, throw it at the wall and see if it sticks. Sad to say, the medical world isn't quite to point where they can give you a test and see what exact meds are needed for mental illness and what will work. I went through several different mixes to find what worked and even just added another, like I mentioned, to try to do some fine tuning.
Why do I share this little bit of info that I have learned? One of my biggest struggles in all this is the word, "choice." Okay, maybe not the word, but the ability to choose. I hold the thought dear to my heart that one of the greatest gifts we have here on this great planet is the ability to choose ... be it bad or good. If my world was feeling negative, I would focus on positive things and I would begin to feel positive. With mental illness, clarity of thought can be so fleeting. The ultimate scare for me, is when clarity of thought is gone and I'm still left to make choices. Perhaps, that is why I profusely abhor making decisions. I've had to learn that understanding how my choice and mental illness work together. When I first started this journey I fought so hard to just choose to be happy, but I kept losing that battle over and over. I get it how people in their ignorance, just say, "just get over it and be happy." The understanding of mental illness is still in the dark shadows of society. With all the physical ailments I listed above that I went through, not once did someone tell me to just get over it. There is an understanding that those things took time to heal. Even those that never experienced them. Why? For whatever reason, there is no stigma associated with those ailments. For now, I strive daily to continue to understand how choice and mental illness interact taking it one day at a time.
- Broken Bones
- Stitches (on more than one occasion)
- Torn Ligaments
- Blood Clots in my left leg (I had to give myself shots in the gut to fight this. Nothing like having a gut for a pin cushion.)
- Pulmonary Embolism ... Blood Clot in the lungs. (I was introduced to morphine ... wo!)
Believe me, I am incredibly thankful for doctors, meds and divine assistance and that I have been able to heal during those delightful events. They weren't fun by any means, but I made it through.
I recently met with my Psychiatrist talking about adding another med to the mix that I have been taking. As we chatted, she explained to me that the brain has eight major chemicals. When any one of those chemicals decide to do their own thing and not play nice, that's when mental illness can begin. The three different meds I am currently taking is to assist with three chemicals that are rebelling in my head. How do they know, which meds to give me? Thankfully, history has given the docs an idea what helps with depression and anxiety. The "fun" part, oh the sarcasm, is finding the right mix that works well for each individual. That comes by what I call, throw it at the wall and see if it sticks. Sad to say, the medical world isn't quite to point where they can give you a test and see what exact meds are needed for mental illness and what will work. I went through several different mixes to find what worked and even just added another, like I mentioned, to try to do some fine tuning.
Why do I share this little bit of info that I have learned? One of my biggest struggles in all this is the word, "choice." Okay, maybe not the word, but the ability to choose. I hold the thought dear to my heart that one of the greatest gifts we have here on this great planet is the ability to choose ... be it bad or good. If my world was feeling negative, I would focus on positive things and I would begin to feel positive. With mental illness, clarity of thought can be so fleeting. The ultimate scare for me, is when clarity of thought is gone and I'm still left to make choices. Perhaps, that is why I profusely abhor making decisions. I've had to learn that understanding how my choice and mental illness work together. When I first started this journey I fought so hard to just choose to be happy, but I kept losing that battle over and over. I get it how people in their ignorance, just say, "just get over it and be happy." The understanding of mental illness is still in the dark shadows of society. With all the physical ailments I listed above that I went through, not once did someone tell me to just get over it. There is an understanding that those things took time to heal. Even those that never experienced them. Why? For whatever reason, there is no stigma associated with those ailments. For now, I strive daily to continue to understand how choice and mental illness interact taking it one day at a time.
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
Respones To Robin Williams Death/Suicide ~ Some Spot On, Some So Completely Wrong
I was heart broken yesterday hearing the news about Robin Williams taking his life. He was a man of quick whit and hilarious humor, amongst so many other talents. I was not sad about not being able to see new material from him though. I was sad because a brother of mine gave into the dark torture of depression. No, I wasn't related to him via blood, but I could and can relate to the demons he fought.
Yes, I spent too much time yesterday and today watching the plethora of news stations and the interviews of celebs and reactions of others via twitter or other social media. Even the President of the U.S. made a statement of the horrible event. During all this time I heard responses that actually made me think the stigma of the mentally ill may actually be chipped away with larger chunks, then the countless times occurred that placed rebar to reinforce and even add to the strength of the stigma. For one that has fought the battle of severe depression for three and a half years, I had to say something. There are simply too many points I heard to comment on, so I have picked the ones that I thought needed some comments, be it right on or so way off.
~ "Depression is a disease, not a simple mood swing." For one that grew up loving life and being happy, I struggled immensely when overwhelming sadness began to enter my world and I couldn't shake it off. This sadness consumed me, and no matter what I did that made me happy in the past, it was not going away. I wasn't too thrilled being diagnosed with severe depression, in fact I was embarrassed. I have learned though that there is nothing to be embarrassed about even though there is a heavy stigma. The bottom line is that I didn't one day tell myself, "I think I'm going to choose to have depression." The chemicals in my head began doing their own thing striving to convince me of all sorts of horrible things. Mental Illness is a disease and is real!
~ "I can't decide if what Robin did was an act of courage or him just being a coward. Truly it was just selfish." I want to purchase a shirt that says, "I'm Ignorant When It Come To Depression" for the person that said this. Sadly, it isn't the first time that I have heard something like this though. I have learned that unless you have fought depression or have been close to one (and I mean close) to one fighting depression, you just don't get it. The darkness and torturous demons of depression are real. Feeling unworthy of any one's love constantly being hit over your head again and again has an impact. Feeling like people may be better off because of all the pain you cause has an impact. Feeling dark, hallow, and miserable over and over has an impact. I have been on the ledge of suicide with my heals over the ledge just standing on my toes teetering too many times to count. Why? In the darkest abyss of depression when suicidal thoughts come strong, it's not about courage or being a coward or being selfish ... it's simply wanting the pain to go away. I understand why drugs and alcohol come into play with those that have depression. They simply don't want to feel the pain. Why haven't I succumbed to suicide? I simply don't know, but I know. Makes great sense, huh? I guess for me, I remember feeling what hope felt like before depression knocked me off my tookis. I fight everyday to feel it again some day.
~ "If anything, I guess we could learn from this to reach out to those more that have depression." Isn't it sad that we have to lose someone to have an epiphany like this? It's quite easy to believe no one loves you when you sit all alone all day without someone sending a text or call or dropping by. Being alone simply wears one thin. I get it though ... "what do you say to someone that has depression?" "What if I say that one wrong thing that makes him kill himself?" "What if? What if? What if?" We don't expect you to come fix us. In all reality, that is up to us and nobody else. The psychologist and psychiatrist are the ones to give advise for "fixing", even with the help of meds. We simply need a huge support group of love. The best conversation is talking about anything but depression at times ... simply knowing we have someone that cares. Any type of act out of love, that may be deemed as "small", actually speaks volumes.
Too many people wear masks hiding depression, and some too ashamed to go see a psychiatrist or psychologist about it because of the awful stigma around it. I am in shock about all the articles / blogs floating around today, written by people that haven't experienced depression, adding to the stigma. There have been incredible articles / blogs giving tremendous insight on depression as well. My heart and love goes to all those that are fighting this disease. It Sucks! I know it is dark, but the only way we know what darkness is like is because some time in our life we have actually felt what light or hope was like. For me, I will strive to keep on fighting.
Yes, I spent too much time yesterday and today watching the plethora of news stations and the interviews of celebs and reactions of others via twitter or other social media. Even the President of the U.S. made a statement of the horrible event. During all this time I heard responses that actually made me think the stigma of the mentally ill may actually be chipped away with larger chunks, then the countless times occurred that placed rebar to reinforce and even add to the strength of the stigma. For one that has fought the battle of severe depression for three and a half years, I had to say something. There are simply too many points I heard to comment on, so I have picked the ones that I thought needed some comments, be it right on or so way off.
~ "Depression is a disease, not a simple mood swing." For one that grew up loving life and being happy, I struggled immensely when overwhelming sadness began to enter my world and I couldn't shake it off. This sadness consumed me, and no matter what I did that made me happy in the past, it was not going away. I wasn't too thrilled being diagnosed with severe depression, in fact I was embarrassed. I have learned though that there is nothing to be embarrassed about even though there is a heavy stigma. The bottom line is that I didn't one day tell myself, "I think I'm going to choose to have depression." The chemicals in my head began doing their own thing striving to convince me of all sorts of horrible things. Mental Illness is a disease and is real!
~ "I can't decide if what Robin did was an act of courage or him just being a coward. Truly it was just selfish." I want to purchase a shirt that says, "I'm Ignorant When It Come To Depression" for the person that said this. Sadly, it isn't the first time that I have heard something like this though. I have learned that unless you have fought depression or have been close to one (and I mean close) to one fighting depression, you just don't get it. The darkness and torturous demons of depression are real. Feeling unworthy of any one's love constantly being hit over your head again and again has an impact. Feeling like people may be better off because of all the pain you cause has an impact. Feeling dark, hallow, and miserable over and over has an impact. I have been on the ledge of suicide with my heals over the ledge just standing on my toes teetering too many times to count. Why? In the darkest abyss of depression when suicidal thoughts come strong, it's not about courage or being a coward or being selfish ... it's simply wanting the pain to go away. I understand why drugs and alcohol come into play with those that have depression. They simply don't want to feel the pain. Why haven't I succumbed to suicide? I simply don't know, but I know. Makes great sense, huh? I guess for me, I remember feeling what hope felt like before depression knocked me off my tookis. I fight everyday to feel it again some day.
~ "If anything, I guess we could learn from this to reach out to those more that have depression." Isn't it sad that we have to lose someone to have an epiphany like this? It's quite easy to believe no one loves you when you sit all alone all day without someone sending a text or call or dropping by. Being alone simply wears one thin. I get it though ... "what do you say to someone that has depression?" "What if I say that one wrong thing that makes him kill himself?" "What if? What if? What if?" We don't expect you to come fix us. In all reality, that is up to us and nobody else. The psychologist and psychiatrist are the ones to give advise for "fixing", even with the help of meds. We simply need a huge support group of love. The best conversation is talking about anything but depression at times ... simply knowing we have someone that cares. Any type of act out of love, that may be deemed as "small", actually speaks volumes.
Too many people wear masks hiding depression, and some too ashamed to go see a psychiatrist or psychologist about it because of the awful stigma around it. I am in shock about all the articles / blogs floating around today, written by people that haven't experienced depression, adding to the stigma. There have been incredible articles / blogs giving tremendous insight on depression as well. My heart and love goes to all those that are fighting this disease. It Sucks! I know it is dark, but the only way we know what darkness is like is because some time in our life we have actually felt what light or hope was like. For me, I will strive to keep on fighting.
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
Hold On, Let Go
I'm the youngest in my family, which brought many perks and struggles growing up. First, let me just get this out of the way ... yep, there were times when I got a little more attention and/or "things". Some may call this spoiled. There were also the struggles that came along as well, like being the test dummy in many crazy thought up ideas by my older siblings. Do I believe in miracles? Sure do, otherwise I'm not sure how I survived and that was just what happened inside the house. We played a lot of football in the front yard and with two older brothers and their friends, I was the runt of the group. Oh, and by the way ... we didn't believe in that two hand touch stuff. Needless to say, I was always trying to impress the the giants around me by not really caring about my body by taking on anyone to tackle, or diving for a ball. At first I wasn't the best receiver, I dropped more balls than I caught. Just getting a ball thrown to me was a rare honor. One game, I was standing in our driveway, which was also the end zone, calling for the ball. I was excited to see the ball thrown my way, but it was a bit high. I jumped up with my eyes closed and the magic moment happened ... I caught the ball. I put the death grip on that ball, holding it so tight while excitement shot through my body! The person defending me was quick to point out I was out of bounds. I pretended to be upset, but truth be told I was still flying high holding tight to the ball.
My football playing days began to dissipate as I grew older, being replaced with basketball. Perhaps this was due to my older brothers and their friends being able to date and drive. Even though I missed playing football terribly, I believe part of me was okay with not being tackled so often. Basketball was tough, but there was no tackling, which was nice. My friends and I began to spend a lot of time playing and even admiring the NBA players. Notice how I said, "admiring" even though "idolizing" was not a far behind. In fact, there was a rumor that my friend and I skipped school to go to the airport to see Michael Jordan because we found out the time the Bulls plane landed. I will not confirm nor deny ... he was one tall dude though! There is a strange thing that happens when playing basketball as a kid. Most of the time is actually playing the sport, but there is also a small amount of time when you are your buddies take turns seeing who can be the closest to touch the rim. As we got older and most of us grew taller, the incredible day happened ... I touched the rim. Not far behind that day came the moment of bliss. Not only was I able to touch the rim, I was able to hang on it with both hands. Talk about a triumphant feeling. I was ecstatic and did not want to let go. This was my moment, that I had worked on over and over. My friends were happy for me at first, yet once they realized I wasn't coming down, they started talking about how they wanted to keep trying, so I finally had to let go.
As I have fought this depression war, I have had an incredible psychologist that has assisted me with learning to cope and claw to move on. Incredible people have given me advice as well. The majority of the times I spend a lot of time pondering about what has been told to me ... some advice I look at and just smile. Lately, there has been a recurring theme that I hear. The biggest message I hear is to "Hold On" while some tell me to learn to "Let Go", and then the few that tell me to "Hold On" and "Let Go." My knee jerk reaction to the last advice is to tell the person to stand up and sit down at the same time and wish them good luck. As usual in my life, the more I have thought about it the more I realize the "Hold On, Let Go" principle is spot on, but how the heck do you do that. I need to hold on so I can let go? I need to let go so I can hold on? I need to let go, hold on, let go and then hold on some more so I can let go? Now, I know the obvious is to "Hold On" to all the good things around me. That's great ... add the dark glasses of depression and seeing those things are quite difficult at times more often than I would like to admit. Then there is the obvious point of "Let Go" of the bad things in life. Well, right now that "bad" thing to me is my mental illness and getting rid of that would be awesome ... yet right now seems impossible. I used to be a huge fan of the saying, "Only Focus on what you can control. The choice is up to us how we handle the bad things of life." What happens when that "bad thing" alters how I choose at times? I can't control when falling off the cliff of deep dark despair of depression. I can't control when anxiety takes me over like a puppet holding the strings. Yep, this is how my mind works. So how do I hold on and let go? For me, I have learned that I hold on to love. That may come from divinity, family, friends, even people I have never met. Love that is shown is far more powerful than simply said. Letting go is more individual I believe. Right now, my "Letting Go" is a huge monster facing me every day. The odd thing is that I know what to let go of, but the how is the monster. I'm learning that what I have defined as something so awesome, like hanging on a rim, reaches an end. I'm learning that holding on to love is easy and hard. Seeing love can be difficult at times, compared to see a football coming at you, but either way when you have it, don't let go.
My football playing days began to dissipate as I grew older, being replaced with basketball. Perhaps this was due to my older brothers and their friends being able to date and drive. Even though I missed playing football terribly, I believe part of me was okay with not being tackled so often. Basketball was tough, but there was no tackling, which was nice. My friends and I began to spend a lot of time playing and even admiring the NBA players. Notice how I said, "admiring" even though "idolizing" was not a far behind. In fact, there was a rumor that my friend and I skipped school to go to the airport to see Michael Jordan because we found out the time the Bulls plane landed. I will not confirm nor deny ... he was one tall dude though! There is a strange thing that happens when playing basketball as a kid. Most of the time is actually playing the sport, but there is also a small amount of time when you are your buddies take turns seeing who can be the closest to touch the rim. As we got older and most of us grew taller, the incredible day happened ... I touched the rim. Not far behind that day came the moment of bliss. Not only was I able to touch the rim, I was able to hang on it with both hands. Talk about a triumphant feeling. I was ecstatic and did not want to let go. This was my moment, that I had worked on over and over. My friends were happy for me at first, yet once they realized I wasn't coming down, they started talking about how they wanted to keep trying, so I finally had to let go.
As I have fought this depression war, I have had an incredible psychologist that has assisted me with learning to cope and claw to move on. Incredible people have given me advice as well. The majority of the times I spend a lot of time pondering about what has been told to me ... some advice I look at and just smile. Lately, there has been a recurring theme that I hear. The biggest message I hear is to "Hold On" while some tell me to learn to "Let Go", and then the few that tell me to "Hold On" and "Let Go." My knee jerk reaction to the last advice is to tell the person to stand up and sit down at the same time and wish them good luck. As usual in my life, the more I have thought about it the more I realize the "Hold On, Let Go" principle is spot on, but how the heck do you do that. I need to hold on so I can let go? I need to let go so I can hold on? I need to let go, hold on, let go and then hold on some more so I can let go? Now, I know the obvious is to "Hold On" to all the good things around me. That's great ... add the dark glasses of depression and seeing those things are quite difficult at times more often than I would like to admit. Then there is the obvious point of "Let Go" of the bad things in life. Well, right now that "bad" thing to me is my mental illness and getting rid of that would be awesome ... yet right now seems impossible. I used to be a huge fan of the saying, "Only Focus on what you can control. The choice is up to us how we handle the bad things of life." What happens when that "bad thing" alters how I choose at times? I can't control when falling off the cliff of deep dark despair of depression. I can't control when anxiety takes me over like a puppet holding the strings. Yep, this is how my mind works. So how do I hold on and let go? For me, I have learned that I hold on to love. That may come from divinity, family, friends, even people I have never met. Love that is shown is far more powerful than simply said. Letting go is more individual I believe. Right now, my "Letting Go" is a huge monster facing me every day. The odd thing is that I know what to let go of, but the how is the monster. I'm learning that what I have defined as something so awesome, like hanging on a rim, reaches an end. I'm learning that holding on to love is easy and hard. Seeing love can be difficult at times, compared to see a football coming at you, but either way when you have it, don't let go.
Monday, July 21, 2014
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.
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.
Friday, June 27, 2014
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.
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.
Sunday, June 22, 2014
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.
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.
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