Don’t Let The Hard Days Win

July 19, 2026July 19, 2026 / Zombie / Leave a comment

“Don’t let the hard days win.” The words scroll across the chest of my t-shirt. What exactly is behind this phrase? To me it is a reminder that when things start to get bad in my mind, I can’t allow them to get out of hand. Regardless of what part of the anatomy is being challenged, the processing still goes through the brain. Our minds are powerful and can alter every part of the body. Breathing can change, the ability to speak can be taken away, and the heart can race. This is the power that our mind has over the rest of the system. I suffer from PTSD and have found another’s description of it to be spot on: PTSD says, “I’ll replay your nightmares while you’re awake. I’ll drag you back to the moment you broke. Every sound and every smell, will remind you you’re never safe.” That’s a very true assessment and part of my hard days. While I’ve escaped my nightmare of youth, it still haunts me. Let’s talk about this.

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I suppose I’ll start by asking what does a hard day look like to you? Waking up on the wrong side of the bed? Another phrase that’s used regularly. Waking up and just not “feeling it.” It’s as though everything that you stumble across turns to crap. Perhaps an overload of assignments at your work place? That’ll stress anyone out. Car breaking down, dog is sick, late getting to an appointment, the list is endless of things that can be considered part of a hard day.

There are those in this world that would think most of the things I spoke of are easy. I wrote about this prior and asked “what is your hard?” I also like to ask when faced with these hard days, or challenges, what are you willing to do? When things seem insurmountable what is it that keeps you going? Some of life’s challenges can come from within. The rest of the world aside, things that sit inside of us can become crippling at times. This is when you have to dig deep to find a way forward.

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All of the many barriers that have been placed in front of me throughout my life have paled in comparison to the one that was created within my own head. In all fairness, I was forced to become self sufficient when it came to my mental stability. Traumatic events that were witnessed lead me to a world within myself. In order to maintain my sanity I had to stuff emotions away. Walk with a smile as though nothing was wrong. Place the mask on my face that would hide the darkness that raged inside of me.

“The child who wasn’t comforted still lives inside the adult who doesn’t ask for help.” ~Ticus poetry~

I reference the mask because you see it so much in society. There is so much that is hidden away. When I take my long walks I’m always wondering about all of the many humans that are playing out their own version of life in each home as I pass. Regardless of the size and stature of the dwelling, there is always a hidden story. This brings me back to the title of the book that I’m still working on “Silence and Secrets.” There was a time that I’d thought I was the only one who hid my secrets away. I’ve grown to understand that we all do it. The level to which we take it is where the difference comes in.

My hard days now are more about sliding backwards. I’ve worked hard to dig my way out of a pit that I never thought possible. It seems as though just when I’m about to reach the top, without warning, something just drags me back down. It’s frustrating and hurts to my core. I can tell you that it doesn’t even take an event to trigger this, I can literally just wake up this way. Flick of a switch! The rush of anger, betrayal, and darkness descend upon me. This is my version of that hard day. I’m grateful that I have some years of counseling under my belt now, but even with that I find myself questioning my progress. In my most recent session, I was trying to explain this feeling. A feeling that I’m sh*t. Make that make sense. I have homework now and my assignment is to write two separate lists. On one; all the reason that I think I’m sh*t. On the other I’m to write why I’m not. I’ll let you know later how that goes.

“I say I’m fine, so you believe it. I laugh, so you stop asking. I joke, so you don’t worry.”

Again, I go through all of this so that I can both cleanse myself of any bad feelings, but to also let others know that they’re not alone. I know that there are others out there who look at themselves as “not good enough” or, as in my case, feel that they are sh*t. We’ve all found our way down this path of deception, but from different trails. The how we got here is important for our own story, the ability to fight our way through these days should be a united front. In my absolute worst moments, I believed that things could still get better. I believed in the power of tomorrow. I still have to tell myself that when I feel like I’m sh*t; that I’ll feel better again. Although I’ve dug my way to the top of the pit and unfortunately slid back down, I have the power to pick myself up and start digging again. I refuse to quit. I refuse to take the assessment of a single morning believing that I’m sh*t and carry it forward.

The path forward is whatever you want it to be. I’ll get busy on my homework and write out all the things. I’ll do it because I know that it’ll help me to better understand myself. It’ll help me to choose the right path. It’ll help me to divulge all of the secrets and bring them into the light. I’ve been told that this is the way things will be for me for the rest of my life. I’ve learned to accept that. I’m just trying to get to a place that when the bad days hit, I’m the best version of me I can be. If I am, I’ll have the power to say “not today.” So please, don’t let the hard days win.

Thank you for following along on my journey.

~Robert/Zombie~

The Hustle of Life: Lessons from Struggles

July 11, 2026July 11, 2026 / Zombie / Leave a comment

I’ve taken my long walk today and allowed myself that time to process the many things that roll through my mind throughout the work week. I look forward to my time on the road and then sitting down to share the many things that are seen through the eyes of Zombie.

There are times when I feel that the universe is reaching out to me to say something. When I come across a topic that perhaps I’ve been holding for awhile. I get a nudge from somewhere, a voice if you will that says “write about this.” When this happens I know that it’s time to grab my keyboard and get to it, so here we are.

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As always, I’m looking at this through my own perspective on life. My views have been shaped by the way I grew up and the experiences that I’ve been through. Today’s topic has to do with work -specifically the work ethic, or in some cases, the lack thereof. I did a blog earlier that went into my work history and gave my feelings about jobs. I think events, comments, and actions by others have prompted me to once again get into this.

If by chance you grew up poor, there is a possibility that you’ll understand my view. I came from a home that on many occasions was lacking in the basic necessities of life. There was a struggle to keep lights on, heat during the winter, and of course adequate food. I still to this day have food insecurity issues from my childhood. I panic inside if I don’t feel that there is enough food in our pantry. While I can look at it and see the food, my brain is telling me that there’s not enough. I can still remember looking into cabinets, searching for something, anything that would make my stomach stop hurting. Until you’ve gone without food, you truly have no idea how terrible of a feeling that is, and what it does to you for the rest of your life.

In order to offset these shortcomings; I found what I thought was a ticket to a better life. It was presented by a man that was friends with my father. As you’re all aware by now; this was the man that would groom me to become a street hustler. I learned by watching and studying humans how to maneuver through darkness and become something that I never wanted to be. Why did I go this route? Hunger and the lack of human necessities to survive. While the work was tough and I had to keep everything away from my family, the short money was covering for shortfalls in my life. It wasn’t about having extravagant things, it was about eating, staying warm, feeling some kind of security. That security came at a hefty cost that I would only come to realize later in my life.

Throughout my working life there have been times that I would remind myself of things that I was taught by this underworld figure. He had numerous sayings that he would toss around on a very regular basis. “Don’t ever trust anyone” was always the #1 rule of the day followed closely by “There’s a cost to everything in this world, nothing is free.” Learning to understand those statements and implement them properly in my life was confusing. If I can’t trust anyone, how will I ever love? How will I ever have a friend? If I can only rely on myself, where does that leave me?

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So many questions with so few answers. It’s probably why I’ve struggled so with relationships. I look at people as though they’re either a predator, or a “mark.” Once again, everything to me is simply black or white, life or death. “Nothing is free” then makes you wonder when someone wants to assist you in some fashion, what is it that they truly want? Why would anyone want to help without wanting something in return? The saving grace was encountering some special people over the years who proved to me that I could trust them. They asked for nothing from me, it was just them being good humans.

This leads me back to my original topic: work. I’ve encountered people who have struggled much the same as I have. They were always busting ass to make it. Grateful for their paycheck and willing to go the extra mile. I’m competitive by nature and have always felt that I’d “never let anyone out hustle me.” Whatever you were willing to do at work, I’d step up on you. My drive and passion are relentless. The poison from my past had a way of steering me, giving me the desire to succeed. Success to me is having a place to live, food to eat, along with the ability to pay my utilities. Anything past that is a bonus in my world. I feel that people too often forget how rich they are. To have these things and look at them as though they’re expected. To have a job that pays you enough to live freely is a gift. One that I’ve always been grateful for. “An honest day’s pay for an honest day’s work.”

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I feel as though there are many who have either been handed everything, or never struggled in life. So often I hear people “hating” the very employer that has allowed them the ability to thrive. What is it that caused this seething within a human? At some point you were sitting in front of an H.R. employee, or perhaps a representative of a company selling yourself in hopes of making a better life for yourself, and perhaps a family. Once they gave you the nod and brought you in; how did this then become hate? I’ve had my moments with each of my employers over the years where I might have been upset about something, but it never rose to the level of hatred. If I ever become so unhappy at a workplace, I make a decision to weigh out the pros and cons of the job. If the cons override the pros, I move on. If the pros are on the higher side, I look for ways to adjust myself so that I can keep moving. Find balance.

I think my advice to most would come from the kid in me. Find a way to survive. Lean into what you have and find ways to make yourself happy. Success will follow. Be grateful for what you have, truly grateful. If you’re employed, working hard and have the necessities to keep going, you’re already winning. Then, ask yourself what it is that you need. I’m sure that we all have our idea of what we need. I like to look at things as a “need” and a “want.” Live within your means and find ways to relax while away from your employer. Work is a mechanism to support our survival. It will provide you with funds so that you can eat food, pay utilities, put gas in your car, send your kids to school, and again, thrive.

This has been sitting on my lists of things to cover for a few years. I’m glad that I have the opportunity to sit here at my computer and express my take on life and work. In years prior, I would’ve said nothing about this and simply looked at other humans as the predator, or the mark. Take a moment to look around you. If you’re reading this, I’m already assuming that you’re rich in your life. Ask yourself what it is that you “need.” What are the needs vs the wants? Find that balance in your life and you’ll be on your way to being happier. Me? It’s simple; I’m always going to stay on the hustle because it’s just who I am. I never want to go back to where I came from, so I enjoy what I have. I cherish my time away from work, but I’m grateful to be employed. My employer and my drive have brought me to a place that I never, as a child thought were possible. The gift I received from being a survivor was that I’ll never forget where I came from. The struggle that has been life has lead me to this road of success. I’m never going back.

Thank you for following along on my journey.

~Robert/Zombie~

The Value of Moments: Life Beyond Possessions

June 28, 2026July 11, 2026 / Zombie / Leave a comment

I’ve been away from my keyboard for a minute and I don’t mind telling you, that’s hard on me. This is truly where I seek my refuge. It’s my Zen and my calling to write about my life and the world as I see it. Time away from this place leaves me vulnerable to darker ways of thinking. I’m aware of this and have worked hard to stay away from those thoughts. Everyday things can become scrutinized, or looked upon in a manner that does not serve my true being. This takes me back to why I started this blog. My sub title says it clearly “Life seen through the eyes of Zombie.” Lets look together, shall we?

I’ll share a few things that gained my attention of late. Forever the voyeur, I continue to watch and learn how humans go about their lives and how they look at others, how they show their displeasure, or just the sheer lack of empathy. I’ve seen much since my last blog that has disturbed me, and left me with those old feelings of rage, and hopelessness. The feelings are the same as in the past, but thankfully I’m more prepared to deal with them now. Things don’t get out of control, but the darkness is forever patient. It’s a temptress that offers immediate gratification if I just do things the way it’s asking me to.

I take at least one long walk every week that consist of at least 10 miles. Most times I take a familiar course that goes directly through the neighborhoods that I ran in as a kid. Some of these streets are where I performed my duties as part of the underworld. You could say that I’m painfully familiar with literally every step of pavement that I’m walking on. There are times when it’s like a flashback. I remember things as vividly as when they first went down. When this happens I feel everything from that moment all at once. There have been times when it literally takes my breath away. While I don’t talk about it with my sister or wife if they’ve come along, I just take time to remember the moment, process it, and give myself grace from that time. I can’t change what happened, I can just remind myself that I survived it.

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The walks have been tough lately because of the struggles that people are going through. Again, I’ve been there and know that a human trying to survive will do whatever it takes to stay alive. You can see this on full display during these walks. Because my brain processes things differently that others, I tend to focus, or see things that most don’t. The many homes that have their front yard covered in personal items due to being evicted. The sickly looking, bone thin humans wandering aimlessly looking for something to make them feel better, if only for a moment. The hustlers that are controlling their surroundings in order to make their fortunes. It’s short money, but hustlers gotta hustle. Life is usually short for them, so they live as large as they can while on this earth. Items, “things” become all that matter to them. It’s all out there.

This weekend there was an estate sale close to my home. The couple that lived in this home were wonderful to me. The husband would come out and ask “how many miles are you getting today” every time he’d see me heading down the road. On one occasion he stopped me and told me to take a big bundle of peaches home. This kind of thing was happening just because I passed him on my walk every day and we’d formed a bond. Unfortunately, his wife passed away and shortly after he too left this earth. I found myself going past the house looking for that friendly smile and wondering if they were together again. Missing the moments I shared with them. Their entire life of collected items was now spread out throughout the home and garage by strangers hired to sell off their life’s collection. Now I realize that this is a business and some feel that it’s a necessity. My view is different. When I see an estate sale, I tend to see people acting in a way that makes me realize there’s an animal inside of each of us. They flock like vultures feeding on a dead carcass. Scrambling to grab all of the treasures before someone else can get them. Parking in front lawns, blocking intersections, positioning themselves for the front row! On my return home from my walk today, one of the ladies that had been parked in the front lawn had taken her dog out of the vehicle and then allowed it to “do it’s business” right there in the front yard. Then packed her dog up and left. I watched the owner of this home work tirelessly on keeping his home and lawn perfect. Once he was gone, a stranger felt that it was nothing more than a dumping ground after she sifted through he and his wife’s life collection.

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This is probably why I’m such a minimalist to this very day. I see no value in things. I don’t collect items, or trinkets. Time and time again in my life I’ve watched family members fight tooth and nail over “things” because it should belong to them now. I’ve seen other estates sales where people were fighting over a “thing” that they felt they grabbed first. It’s truly the ugliest of moments for a human. This also goes back to what I was stating with humans and their desire to survive. They’ll literally fight another human for an item because they see value that could possibly make their life better. Hustlers on the hustle. Street life, or the underworld are not far from everyday life.

I try to keep my focus on the beauty of the world. I keep my eyes wide open searching for the things that bring me joy. Watching the creatures of the world go through the cycle of life. Watching the geese that return each year to have little ones. To watch them grow from little balls of fuzz into beautiful adult birds. I seek out dogs that I’ve watched grow from puppies. I can tell you where every dog lives on my walking paths. When they’re out in their yard I always have time for a chat or pet. The smells of spring flowers that fill the air while I walk. All of these things help me to remember that the world as a whole isn’t shit. I love having my wife or sister along with me on my walks. My wife has a way of viewing things differently. She’s not scarred by the past the way I am, and it’s refreshing. She too reminds me that it’s not all darkness, the light is still there, you just have to look through her eyes rather than Zombie’s.

Life is precious and requires a balance. I have to find ways to look past these things that eat at my soul. I think of what little I have to leave behind that the vultures would find of interest. I’ll leave behind my works, my random thoughts poured out onto paper or this computer screen. Poems about love and loss. Hopefully my book will find it’s way to being finished and shared. Physical things will not be treasured by me. I live now for moments. Zombie’s eyes are still watching, but Robert’s stronger now. I’m going to take the moments that I shared with a wonderful neighbor and hold those. I’ll remember the love that he had for his wife, and how heartbroken he was by her loss. I’ll keep walking and thinking of the peaches that he offered to me. Because in the end, those moments are what truly mattered.

In my closing; I’d promised one of my readers that I would post a poem I wrote years ago. It’s called “Free” written in May of 1994. I’ll also throw in one that I wrote about the American Flag being that we’re coming up on a celebration. I hope you all enjoy.

Thank you for following along on my journey.

~Robert/Zombie~

FREE

Set me free from all of this

My God I am in need

Take away this suffering

That leaves my soul to bleed

Show me how to smile again

I think I’ve lost my way

And say the way I feel right now

Won’t last another day

And if you feel my time is through

I’ve put up my best fight

Come sit and hold my shaking hand

To say that it’ll be alright.

I AM

My eyes have seen great triumphs and sorrows

I have stood proudly during war and peace time

I have ridden on the uniform of brave soldiers

And been held in the hands of small children

I stand for Liberty and Justice

I stand for those who have fallen to ensure my existence

I will continue to hold my post

And fly high above the tallest of buildings

I AM the American Flag

And my colors run deep with the pride

Of the many who stand in allegiance with me.

Living Beautifully Broken

June 11, 2026June 11, 2026 / Zombie / Leave a comment

I’m always searching for ways to assist others in understanding me. Not that it’s anyone’s job to do so, but it can help close gaps. Better conversations are had when you know who you’re dealing with. There have been times where I’ve been described as an “overthinker.” That’s not really the case. My brain is such that it is constantly analyzing, anticipating and preparing for threats. I prepare myself for all different scenarios so that I’m ready to engage when they come to fruition. It can be exhausting, which is why you may hear me say that I’m tired on many occasions. When I first tried to describe my feelings to my counselor, I told her that I was “always on.” The environment that I came from assisted in forming this, along with being made to study humans and report on what I observed.

There are complexities to all humans. I state time and time again that everyone could benefit from time with a counselor. I want to start out this blog by stating first that I’m not perfect, nor do I want to come across as knowing everything. I don’t. I seek answers to all the things that torture me in my daily life. I want to better understand the inner workings so that I can find ways to correct my actions. Imagine stepping into a room full of people, let’s say at a party. Joyful conversation, good music, possibly some adult beverages going around. This would seem to most as an environment that begs to be enjoyed. A time to let loose and take everything in. When I see a room like this my first reaction is to play out all the many things that could go wrong so that I’m prepared. I check exits, I assess the people themselves. Who looks to be a threat or what could get out of hand. I see alcohol and that is an immediate trigger because I know the things that alcohol can do to a human and how their behavior can change. This is a glimpse into my world. This is how I walk around each day of my life. Whether at work, driving my car, shopping at the store, or going out to a social gathering. My brain has to put in the work.

( Hypervigilant symptoms are clinically described as a perpetual scanning of the environment to search for sights, sounds, people, behaviors, smells, or anything else that is reminiscent of activity, threat or trauma. The individual is on high alert in order to be certain danger is not near; it can lead to a variety of obsessive behavior patterns, as well as producing difficulties with social interaction and relationships.)

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Needless to say; my reactions to events at times come in the form of a trauma response. Described by my counselor as more of a life or death view. This too came from having to make decisions at a very young age that were just that: life or death. Things need to be black or white, there is no gray area. The gray area leads to chaos and disorder. When I was younger, the gray area could lead to far worse things.

You can imagine the level of “chill” that my wife has to be with someone like me. We balance one another out very well. I’m the protector, the watcher always thinking and ready to respond. She’s a thinker too, but sees things in a more positive fashion and takes the time to remind me that the entire world is not really shit. She’s talked me off a ledge countless times over the years. Recently she could just see it on my face that I was in crisis and simply gave me a hug. It’s moments like this that bring me back from whatever dark area I’ve fallen into. I’m still, and always will be a work in progress.

Being alert all the time was my way of surviving. I cherish that gift for guiding me through hell. Unfortunately the gift can be a curse as well. When I wake in the morning, the brain begins its slow and methodical process of all “the things.” Sharing this might help some of you not only understand me better, but perhaps yourself or someone in your life who is much the same. I still love to use the term “Beautifully Broken.” In all of this, I’ve learned to like myself, and in some ways even love who I am. I always have the best of intentions when I do things, it just might seem a bit odd to some.

I felt that during this month of PTSD awareness I’d share a little more of my inner workings. Again, I’m never looking for pity, or even some kind of recognition. I’m simply telling the stories of one singular human whi is trying to understand and survive being human.

Thank you for following along on my journey.

~Robert/Zombie~

Understanding PTSD: Symptoms and Struggles of Recovery

June 9, 2026 / Zombie / Leave a comment

I think it’s convenient that June is PTSD awareness month. I talked about mental health month in May and covered some of my struggles, along with acknowledging that there are so many out there fighting the same fight. Getting into a more precise part of my struggles brings me to PTSD. (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder)

Symptoms: Symptoms may include disturbing thoughts, feelings, or dreams related to the events, mental or physical distress to trauma-related cues, attempts to avoid trauma-related cues, alterations in the way a person thinks and feels, and an increase in the fight-or-flight response.
Causes: Exposure to a traumatic event. In extreme cases of prolonged, repeated traumatization where there is no viable chance of escape, survivors may develop complex post-traumatic stress disorder (CPTSD). This occurs as a result of layers of trauma rather than a single traumatic event, and includes additional symptomatology, such as the loss of a coherent sense of self.

Due to being exposed to numerous traumatic events. I was at a time in my life that I was unable to process safely. The damage compounded as the years went by. The idea of feeling “normal” or living a happy life were fleeting thoughts, dreams if you will. I always looked for a way out and wished for a better life, it just didn’t seem obtainable. It wasn’t until I became an adult that I was diagnosed with PTSD and started on the road to recovery. That journey continues.

I was asked recently “why don’t you post more positive things on your blog?” I’ve tried to make it clear that this blog is for myself; first and foremost. I have a desire to share the things that I’ve gone through in order to assist others. Not every blog is going to be like that, because that’s just not how life goes. While I’m in a much better place now, I have struggles. Again, life has a way of testing you and doesn’t care if your broken or not.

There are moments that I’m triggered by a person, an event, even being in an environment that brings back feelings from the past. Humans have a way of not respecting others space, or even our energy. That can be problematic for a person dealing with ghosts from their past. I feel that the world can be so angry that the only way to deflect it is to match that energy. This is a discussion I’ve had with my counselor on numerous visits. I know in my heart that bringing negative energy will not solve my problems, but sliding into an area of comfort becomes all too easy. Rage, anger and violence are close personal friends of mine. In those moments I have to find a way through. I can’t fall off the cliff. This my friends is the inner struggle that I wake to everyday.

I needed to sit and write about this tonight. I’ve been faced with so many challenges that have beckoned the demons to rise up. It’s made me sit and ponder where I’m at in my recovery. Do I feel safe? Should I find new ways to maintain my stride? Of course there’s always the question in my head of “will I ever feel healed?” I cherish each day that comes and I feel happiness, mostly because I’m not sure when the next one will appear.

I want to share a poem that I found recently. While it has a dark undertone to it, it’s beautiful at the same time. It’s called “The Final Pause“

And when death finds me, I hope it whispers, “Come now, the fight is done,” and takes my hand gently like an old friend who understands why I’m so tired. I hope it says, “you’ve carried enough, let me hold this weight for you.” I hope it promises, “here there is quiet. Here you can rest.” (Ticus poetry)

I wrote a very similar poem years ago, but it was more about a person suffering and asking God if it was o.k. to die. Perhaps I’ll pull it out and post it soon. These are the things that I carry with me. The blessings that I’ve received and the torture that I carry. I’m tired today and hopeful to find rest tonight. Some days it just feels like a heavy load that I wish to set down at the side of the road.

I know, so much to process here and no, I’m not able to write something warm and fuzzy at this time. I can tell you that I’m a fighter. I’m a survivor. I refuse to quit, no matter how hard things become. That being said; I’ll pick up this heavy load and move forward because it’s just what I do. Searching for the light.

Try to remember that there are those out there that are suffering. “Not all wounds are visible.” June is PTSD Awareness month. Take a moment to care about the suffering. Share a smile, bring that positive energy that we seek. Just do your best to be a good human, because that’s all any of us really want to encounter. I’ll close out with one more poem by Ticus.

(The deepest kind of pain is the one you hide, not to protect yourself, but to protect others from witnessing just how much it has already destroyed you.)

Thank you for following along on my journey.

~Robert/Zombie~

May is Mental Health Awareness Month: Let’s Talk

May 23, 2026 / Zombie / Leave a comment

Well, here we are. It’s May again and we’re sitting on the doorstep of Summer. For those who are not aware, May is also Mental Health Awareness Month. I try to make it a point to write something each May so that we can have discussion about one of our most overlooked and misunderstood health issues. It’s taboo to speak about struggling mentally in most corners. In all actuality it should be discussed openly, and some attempt made to give grace and understand when people struggle. Over the last few years I’ve made it part of my own healing process to shed light on the subject. I’m Robert and I struggle with my own mental health. Lets talk about this.

I’ve gone over my background in so many blogs now; I feel like all of you know me pretty well by now. There can be many reasons for someone to struggle with their day-to-day feelings. In all honesty, the more I talk to people, the more I realize that we’re all screwed up in our own way. Now that I’ve thrown that out there, think about yourself for a minute. Are there hidden demons that reside inside of you? I say that right off the bat because that’s where I started out. Many of the events that transpired in my early years lead to the hiding of feelings. I was “trained” to never show emotions. When I was feeling something, I knew it was in my best interest to stuff it down. Years of stuffing everything then turned into this mountain of anger, resentment, and fear that I’d never be well again. Not allowing myself to experience people and moments in my life to their fullest left me empty. I searched for happiness in all the dark corners and prayed to some kind of God to help me find my way.

I’ve had conversations with so many that have been through horrible events in their lives as well. Trauma has many faces and it works on our fears. It messes with our emotions and tempts us to fall deeper into darkness. Don’t go down that path. There is help for all of us out there and believe me when I tell you that it does get better. I’ve stood, alone, in the middle of a park contemplating whether tomorrow was something that I wanted to reach. For me, at that moment it was an awakening brought about by a combination of nature and physical activity. I started out walking and it turned into 40+ years of running. Running saved my life and nature played a part in it as well. To this very day I still head out the door almost daily to get my time in with the outdoors. More walking than running, but the feeling is the same. I’m alive!

No two journeys are the same. No person’s trauma is less important than another’s. I had moments when I talked with someone and felt that I had no reason to feel the way that I do. How could I possibly talk about my problems when they paled in comparison to what someone else was going through. I know that there are many of you out there who have done this. It’s easy to brush our own feelings of sadness or loneliness aside when we make it less important than someone else’s. Why should we put our mental health on a shelf? Why are we so good at making ourselves “less than” others?

Unfortunately the world has sold us on the idea that breaking down mentally means you’re weak. This too was something that I was trained in. The man that groomed me taught me to show nothing because others would exploit it. When in reality, he was the one doing the exploiting. If I showed that I cared for someone, it became a liability. It could put them in harm’s way without them ever knowing it. The pressure to hold back tears at times when I really needed to just set my soul free caused such damage. The few times that I did show emotions was usually in my own room. Hidden from others. Talking myself through so that I could go back out into the darkness and roam…broken and in pain.

First responders, military fighters, health care workers, teachers. The list goes on and on of the many people who do or witness things that put their mental health in jeopardy. The things that our brains have to process are sometimes just too much. The things that I’ve seen play out in my life are things that I’d never wish on anyone. Finding my counselor and processing all of this has been the hardest, yet most rewarding thing that I’ve ever done. Having a professional walk you through all of the mess that has been packed away for years is hard. But I ask you, wouldn’t you rather do that kind of hard? Once I reached my first breakthrough I truly understood how poorly I’d been treating myself for far too long. I never allowed myself to live freely. This is why I chose the title to the book that I’m still working on to be “Silence and Secrets—My journey to breaking free.” I ask that each of you evaluate your own mental wellbeing during this month and throughout the coming months. Ask yourself the hard questions and seek the help you so richly deserve.

Use this month to look around you. Check on others that you might not normally speak with. Ask someone if they’re doing alright and then take the time to actively listen. I know I say this all of the time but words matter. Along with my trauma; I’ve been “gifted.” I have the ability to see through bullshit. There are moments when I can hear the cries for help even though the person is not actually saying the words. I’ve learned to take my trauma and use my abilities for good. I enjoy having conversations with others and really listening to them. I love that people will have open discussions with me because they’ve read my blog. This has been my way of seeking the others who are broken and telling them that it’s alright. Being broken doesn’t mean you’re useless. “Broken crayons still color.”

Take care of yourselves and those around you. Have the conversations that need to be had and take care of your mental health the same way you’d take care of any other part of your body. We spend our lives inside of our own head, and that can be a bad neighborhood. May is mental health awareness month, but I’d like it to become a year round thing. Join me on this journey to better mental health for everyone.

Thank you so much for following along on my journey.

~Robert/Zombie~

Slow Down and Breathe

May 9, 2026 / Zombie / Leave a comment

“I’ll do that tomorrow.” “I can’t wait for retirement.” “I have a countdown clock on my phone for retirement.” “I’ll catch up with you sometime.” “We never see each other, we should do this more often.” “I miss you, we need to find time for one another.”

Do any of these things sound familiar? Have you spoken these words out loud? This blog is not going to be about shaming people for saying these things, I’ve said the words myself. This is more about trying to restructure our way of doing things. About setting time aside for the things and the people that are truly important. We wander through our lives always looking for the quickest way to get through. Speed has become a thing. Push to get through everything. Race to the store, sprint through each aisle as if you’re a formula one car on its final lap. All the while navigating your cellphone, planning the next day of work. When do we just stop and breathe? Why do we want to race through the only life we’re given?

As a youth, we’re all aware that I was into things that were less than pleasant. For as hard as things were, I always tried to find something in the day that brought me joy. In my case, it was more about my own survival, and maintaining sanity. While I felt trapped and had times of serious loneliness, I wanted more. I held onto the belief that perhaps I’d find a way to the surface. A place where the sun would warm my cheeks and make me feel alive. I did my best to find those moments.

When I had reached the point where I wasn’t sure I’d be able to continue in my life, walking the park was the turning point. I’ve talked about this in numerous blogs over the years. It was nature that found me, spoke to me, guided me forward. The trees, birds, the sound of the gravel under my running shoes made me feel truly alive. Made me feel that I wanted to be alive and part of this world. Each time that I’ve stepped into a park or onto the road to walk or run, I’ve wished for time to just stop. To stand still and let me just take everything in. I didn’t want to wish myself through the hours that I’d spend out in the sunshine. I never dreaded the soreness of my body. I was awakened to what life was truly about.

Now that I’m older and at times feel I’ve lived a thousand lifetimes; I still long for the simple things in the world. Growing up poor and having very little did one thing to me for sure. I learned that I was capable of surviving on very little. “Things” are just that to me. My desire for “stuff” is very limited. I’m rich already because I have a home to live in, food to eat, water to drink, running shoes to carry me on my adventures and a wife who loves me. When I tell people that all I really need are those things, they look at me as though I’m an alien.

At one point I felt the need to satisfy a childhood dream. I wanted to own a Corvette. I fell in love with the vehicle at a very young age. I dreamed of perhaps one day having one of my own. Well, that day came. I saved my money and purchased a bright yellow Corvette. The excitement of receiving the vehicle was amazing. That feeling faded out quickly and it became just something to wash and park. I began to seek happiness in other vehicles, not knowing that seeking happiness in things was pointless. I sat in my driveway one day looking at my latest “toy car” and wondered how I’d gone off track. I knew inside of me that my happiness was not derived from this vehicle. I felt the most complete spending time wandering. Sitting with my wife in our driveway taking in the sunshine and watching our dogs nap in the grass. Those are the moments that I always wish to slow. I never wish them away or think of the next day. I want to remain in the moment.

I went out this morning on my long walk Saturday and took in all the sights, sounds and smells as I walked. I wanted nothing more than to be at peace. The chaos from the week of work was now behind me and I just wanted to breathe. I cherish these times even more now that I’m “older.” I think about how much more time I have left and feel as though I still have so much yet to see. I have so much more to say, and to write about. I keep asking for time to stand still for me. I’d read an article about the most common thing said by people who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness. They all said ” I thought I’d have more time.” While so many take for granted the moments that they’re gifted, there are others who just want to have some of that time back.

I remember having a conversation with my sister Gini after she’d been diagnosed and knew her time was limited. I asked what she wanted out of the time she had left. She wanted to see her daughter graduate from nursing school, get married and have children. When faced with this illness her wish was simply to see her child live. She wanted time to see these things.

I had a discussion with a co-worker the other day that prompted part of this blog. The discussion was based on the question “what would you do if you were told you were dying?” All the things that you’ve planned for. All of the times that you’ve raced through your life. You’re now faced with a very limited amount of time. There’s so much to unpack with that, but I’m certain that I’d want to do all of the things that I love and enjoy now. I’d keep writing until my fingers were unable. I’d take my walks and see everything that I can. I’d love those around me with everything that I am, as I do now. I’d say the things that need to be said and leave nothing out. I’d try with all my might to slow everything down and just breathe.

Please, don’t wish your life away. Time matters, words matter, people around you matter. Take the time to slow everything down. Make yourself just stop when you feel the push of the world. Really see what is around you. I’ve talked about this so many times in my blogs. There is so much out there just waiting to be discovered, you simply need to open your eyes. My wish for all of you today is to slow things down…and breathe.

Thank you so much for following along on my journey.

~Robert/Zombie~

The Gray Man: Navigating Identity and Self-Acceptance

April 26, 2026April 26, 2026 / Zombie / Leave a comment

Let’s dive into yet another one of the many topics that I have on my ever growing lists. How I see myself vs how others see me. I’m certain that there will be many that’ll be able to relate to this topic once I start to unpack it. I think we all know by now that I have issues looking at my physical self (face), especially my eyes. I’ve written several blogs that touch on the reasons for my inability to gaze into mirrors. This blog is going to deal with more of the internal components. The things that the brain says. Lets get started.

I know that I’ve touched on my past and the many things that I’ve gone through. Because of the unique situation that I found myself in at a young age; I tend to internalize my value as a person. For many years I did my best to lock away the scared child that resided inside of me. My job became to project a person of strength. A person that should be feared. You see, in the underworld there is no room for error. There is no going back once you’ve been revealed. Because of this, you find yourself unable to understand who you really are. I remember vividly sitting on my porch steps and wondering what would become of me. I felt as though I didn’t even know myself, so what did the rest of the world see when they looked at me?

I’ve referred to myself in past blogs as “the gray man.” An entity that could blend into the background without ever being discovered. I’ve also talked about my inability to look at my own eyes in a mirror. The person that I’ve seen when I’ve done that did not match up with what was inside of me. It became easier to just avoid looking. To continue to project what others may want, or need to see. My parents looked upon me as the good son. They never got a glimpse of the rage, fear, and loneliness that I carried with me. My family never knew about my street life. It was more for their protection than anything. My sisters each had their feelings of who I was as a sibling. This makes me wonder, what is it that they see? Was I so good at hiding everything that they never thought to ask questions? Did I do such a good job at hiding all my secrets that they only saw me as good? Why did no one see the cracks forming? These questions and so many more have ravaged my brain throughout the years. It was time to clean out all the secrets. Time to gaze into the abyss.

Photo by Guillaume Meurice on Pexels.com

What I’ve worked on over the years was digging out all the stored trauma. Finding a way to understand it and place it back gently. With each visit to my counselor I’d take another step forward. All the while still having the mixed feelings about who I really am. People look at me from the outside and say wonderful things that I struggle to believe. Each time I’d receive a compliment I’d have to pause. “They don’t really mean that.” The other thing would be “you don’t deserve that.” Yes, that is how I’ve seen myself in the past. A person that is undeserving of praise. I’m the “lesser than.” The dirty kid from the East Side. One of the biggest breakthroughs came when my counselor uttered the words “when does Robert forgive himself?” Those words stopped me hard in my tracks. I still tear up when I think about that moment. My entire life I’ve never been able to move blame from myself. I’ve never been able to forgive myself for all that I’ve gone through. I’ve stayed hidden, unable to look in the mirror at my own eyes. The gray man; who is not worthy of praise. I stand before you now a changed man.

Photo by Belu Carrillo Asis on Pexels.com

While I still refer to myself as a work in progress, I have a better understanding of who I am. I won’t tell you that I’m able to receive praise without some kind of glitch, but I’m getting better. The person that I see within myself now is much stronger. I think that the tide has turned internally and I’m climbing out from the hole that I dug inside. At times it’s like clawing my way through mud, but still I make progress. I’m getting closer to balancing how I see myself vs how others see me. I’ve taken the role of someone that wants to lead others. I want to be the strength that someone looks to in order to better themselves. Just by sharing all of my stories I feel that I can make a difference. I know that there are others out there that feel as I did. Beating themselves down with self-doubt, and low self-worth. Letting people know that they are seen when they too might feel as I did as the “gray man.” Perhaps they’ll start to claw out of their own hole and reach for the light. I’ll tell you that thinking I could help someone this way gives me strength.

I recently applied for and received a promotion at my workplace. When I received the offer letter I just sat and held it. Reading through the words over and over again. People around me see something in me that I’ve struggled with for so long. My reply to the letter was this; “Thank you for believing in me.” I showed them exactly who I am, all of my brokenness was on display. My voice quivered at times when speaking in the interview, but they still felt I was worth taking a chance on.

I’ll continue to heal my wounds internally. I’ve made a pledge to myself to give grace, to ease up on myself. Perhaps try to adjust the view of myself so that it better aligns with what others are seeing. Offer my strengths, my words, my stories so that people can find healing in it. Keep clawing through the mud and reaching for the light.

Thank you so much for following along on my journey.

~Robert/Zombie~

Staying True: My Tattoo Journey of Resilience

April 5, 2026 / Zombie / Leave a comment

STAY TRUE…

These very words are tattooed directly on my knuckles. It’s a reminder that regardless of what the world throws at me, I need to remember who I am. I attempted to conceal everything about me when I was young. Mostly for protection of myself and others, but I was lost. The real me was trapped inside a world that didn’t want truth. It didn’t want me to stay true to the boy that was buried inside of me. All that was required was for me to perform at a level that pleased others. Put on the face of deceit and do as instructed. Being true was something that was only thought about from time to time. Once again it was looked upon as a form of weakness. To divulge your true self was not an option.

I sit and stare at my hands at times. I watch all of the lines that have developed over the years. The colors that have forged into my skin as time as gone by. The artwork of a gifted artist streaks across my hands and fingers. The precision and skill that was used to gift me with reminders of days gone by. They are also reminders to never let myself slip away. To be present in my day, in my moment. Colors that bring back memories, both good and bad. The skull that tells me that I escaped death numerous times already. The rose that shows promise for what I hope to achieve. “Just Run” is on the side of my hand. It reminds me that when everything else fails me, I need to just run. My savior, my safe place, and my guiding force came from running.

More inked skin can be seen over a good portion of my body. Some is spelled out for all to see and understand. Others are set in symbolism. A few of the latest are also reminders of my past. Things that I have overcome. Things that have given me my power back. All the feelings that I held inside for so long are now pouring out. I wear my emotions, fears and victories on my skin. Some of my tattoos are strictly on me for protection. Chasing away the demons that stalk me. I have a semicolon placed on my leg now.

“A semicolon tattoo symbolizes hope and resilience in the face of mental health challenges. It represents a pause in a sentence. The story isn’t over. This meaning resonates deeply with individuals who have struggled with issues like depression, anxiety, or addiction. This tattoo serves as a reminder of survival and the importance of continuing one’s journey despite hardships“

I decided years ago to take my life back. I may have paused, had my struggles with mental health and suffered hardships, but I’m still here. Close by the semicolon tattoo is the word “Survivor.” This one speaks to me each time a look down at it. Truly reminds me of everything that I’ve been through and at every turn, I survived. I never stopped pushing. Never stopped wanting better for myself and my family. Never stopped seeking the help that I so desperately needed. As you look further down my leg you’ll find the wolf, with two different faces. The darker side, and the one of light. Just above the faces is says “The one I feed.” I can choose to feed the darker wolf and go down the path of darkness. I can also choose to feed the wolf of light, happiness, and truth. I’ve fed them both at times.

I was asked recently to one day tell what all of my tattoos are about. These are just a few that cover my skin. Each is special to me and a part of my soul. It may seem strange, but I take my ink therapy seriously. I still remember my sister at one point saying “why don’t you put something happier on your skin?” It made me chuckle inside. She never really knew everything about me, because it was hidden away. There are glimpses of happiness on me. The beautiful owl that resides on my forearm is my bride, Karla. Same color eyes as her, wearing glasses, and a key slot in her chest. Elsewhere you’ll find the skeleton key that fits. The key to her heart.

I’ve often thought about having photos taken of my tattoos. I’d prefer them to be done in black and white, and perhaps add them to the pages of my book. My tattoo journey is not done yet, nor is my book. I’ll find my way to the finish. I’d like to circle back now to my original words, stay true. Since breaking free, I’ve learned to stay true in all aspects of my life. I want to present myself as a beacon of hope, strength, and perhaps wisdom. Staying true to both faces of the wolf I spoke of. There is a darkness within me, but I’ve learned how it can and has served me. I don’t allow it to overcome who I am, but to embrace it’s service. Living the life that I always promised myself I would. Free from control, serious danger, and those that would harm me. Free to love the one I chose, and know that she’ll be safe by my side. Free to speak about everything that I’ve been through with a level of pride. I survived.

Photo by Miguel Rodru00edguez on Pexels.com

I say all of this because I want the same for all of you. Speak your truth. Stay true to yourself, and never let anyone sway you from it. I believe that I’ve referred to your voice as your truth before. It’s so powerful. Protect it, nurture it, let it grow and shine. I’m not saying that you should all go out and get tattooed…lol! I am saying I want you to live, and do so freely. While I went for my long walk today I just allowed myself to be. To look at my aging hands and know that wherever I roam, I’m truly free. I’ve learned to stay true…to me.

Thank you for following along on my journey.

~Robert~

The Power of Silence: From Secrets to Healing

March 15, 2026 / Zombie / Leave a comment

My gosh, it’s been almost two weeks since I’ve posted anything. I’ve been ready, I could feel things building up. There’s a difference between “wanting to write and needing to write.” I’ve reached the point that I need to. I had to ponder all the many ideas that I’d like to discuss. Taking a nice long walk today assisted in getting things into perspective. I had a nice conversation with my sister yesterday about our childhood and that always sparks feelings. I sheds light into the “why” I act the way I do. It also reminds me of the years of silence. I’ve decided to lean into the silence topic and give the different meanings to the same word. How I’ve gone from being made to be silent to silence with purpose. Let’s get into it.

My childhood was chaotic. I’ve shared so much of it on here. I feel everyone should know all the intimate details by now. I’ll give the “cliff notes” version for anyone that is unaware. I grew up in a poor family that struggled to get by. My life became very complicated early on when I found myself getting drawn into a life of darkness. A friend of my fathers befriended me with promises of a better life. Easy money was offered to just study humans. (That was the original hook) From there things escalated into moving shipments around the neighborhoods. Collection of debts soon followed and the person that original seemed so kind and caring became something different. He finally showed his true character and made clear to me that I’d be forever in this system. There was no way out. I wasn’t allowed to speak of anything that I was doing for him, ever. I couldn’t tell my family or friends as they would surely become targets. Lessons on how to act and what to do were a regular thing around this man. I feared him. This is where silence became my life. The book that I’m currently working on is called “Silence and Secrets.” (my journey to breaking free) Silence became such a natural thing. As time went on and I escaped this life, I was lost. I remained silent.

The years that I spent around this man were formidable ones. My learning and thought process was not like a “normal” child. I was unable to connect to others because of fear. I could never be found out, I could never let anyone know what I was really doing. I was scared that someone would come to harm me, or worse, the ones that I loved the most. I struggled with relationships because I could never truly let someone see me for who I am. Friendships were based on nothing. One of the things that I was taught is that nothing in this life is free. Also that you are to trust no one. Stop for a second and think that through. As a child, and that’s exactly what I was. How would you process this? These were the rules of the streets and you had to follow them or you were no longer. When my “boss” finally showed his true self, I remember thinking; I just want to go home. The words came out of my mouth. His reply was “if you don’t follow what I’m saying, you’ll never go home.” From that moment on and for most of my life; sleep would never come.

Fast forward to my adult life. All of this hiding in plain sight. All of this silence, all of the secrets. They finally started to deteriorate me internally. Nightmares were a very regular thing. Sleep was broken into small segments. Rage was the order of the day. I was a trained voyeur and street prowler that had been set free to roam among the normal ones. Dealing with anger became almost too much. I had so much stuffed away that needed to be released. I needed someone to see me. This person came in the form of a counselor that I’d been taking my daughter to. We would have discussions after my daughter’s sessions. One day, she asked if I wanted to come in and talk about me. The immediate reaction was one of terror. My mind raced wondering how I had let my guard down. How did she know? Yet my answer came from another part of me. The word “yes” fell from my mouth so quickly that there was no way to recover it. This began a journey that I’m still on today.

Now, when the word silence comes to mind, it’s more of a “be still.” In my brain when things trigger me, I hear noise. Things become almost impossible to sort out and old ways of dealing with it form. There’s a comfort to falling into the old ways because they were practiced for so many years. It’s easy to lash out, or become violent when it’s what you know. People respond to hostility. They conform when they’re faced with darkness. That is what I learned growing up. Now I know that people respond to kindness, empathy. I never wanted to be the person that was feared. Looked upon as a bully, an enforcer. I simply wanted to be seen and heard. I wanted someone, anyone to hear my cries. My insides were begging to be free. I think I’m finding that now. Silence now is my time to reflect, to breathe. Silence means something clean…no longer a dirty word. Silence is peace. Peace is what I seek in my journey through life. I’ve seen how things go on the other side. There is nothing good there. Silence and secrets in the darkness are unimaginable pain.

Through the years and sessions with my counselor I’ve learned to be true. True to myself. I’ve had to face all of the things I’ve been through and look at them honestly. The hardest thing to do while sitting in front of a wonderful human was to say that I forgive myself. I carried the burden of my youth so long that I owned all of it. I never thought it was someone else that harmed me. I didn’t even realize that I was considered trafficked until very recently. “Forced to do things by threat and intimidation.” My eyes are clear now as I lean into my 60th year on this planet. I’d like to believe that when you look into my eyes now, you see happiness. The sorrow that once hid there is gone.

Zombie is still a part of me. Zombie was a term that came about due to my continual lack of sleep and odd working hours. The name, or persona (Zombie) represented the darker side of me. When I first started counseling I wanted to be rid of all the darkness. I wanted to be free of the “abilities” that came with it. I learned that while these were formed in darkness, they served me throughout my life. Some of these abilities serve me to this very day in my life. I’m still forever watchful, careful, assessing people and places. It never shuts off, but I’ve learned to embrace it. In order for me to be whole and move forward in peace, I have to accept who I am. So, when I say that I’m forever Zombie, there’s truth to that statement. One part cannot exist without the other. Darkness and light. Silence and Stillness. The art of breathing and being still.

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These past weeks have been full of numerous events. Some very challenging, others are more learning who I want to be going forward. “Progress, not perfection.” I may seek perfection, but I’m good with progress. My path needs to keep roaming forward. I often talk about the boy that hides within me. The child that wanted to grow up “normal.” I carry him with me everyday and nurture him. Zombie has protected him from death, and now it’s Robert that needs to give him peace. This is my final challenge. I have accepted it and will see the child that I was flourish in the light.

Thank you so much for following along on my journey.

~Robert/Zombie~

p.s. This system once again has made me water down some of my original writing. It’s disturbing to be “Silenced” by a computer generated system that obviously doesn’t understand human behavior or context.

The zombie file

Life seen through the eyes of Zombie

Author: Zombie

Don’t Let The Hard Days Win

The Hustle of Life: Lessons from Struggles

The Value of Moments: Life Beyond Possessions

Living Beautifully Broken

Understanding PTSD: Symptoms and Struggles of Recovery

May is Mental Health Awareness Month: Let’s Talk

Slow Down and Breathe

The Gray Man: Navigating Identity and Self-Acceptance

Staying True: My Tattoo Journey of Resilience

The Power of Silence: From Secrets to Healing