Understanding Emotional Healing: The Science of Music

June 19, 2025June 19, 2025 / Zombie / Leave a comment

I’d like to start out my blog today by sharing a piece by R.M. Drake:

“One day you’ll make peace with your demons, and the chaos in your heart will settle flat, and maybe for the first time in your life, life will smile right back at you, and welcome you home.”

I’ve been on here many times throwing so much of my life out there, that I’m sure at times people wonder “will he ever get better?” There have been many blogs that have covered darkness and despair. They were necessary. I had to put things in writing in order to face all of it and understand what part I played in all of it. I had to read through my own work and make a decision on whether I wanted to remain in my secluded world, or break free and experience life on different terms. Yes, there are many bad things that I’ve done and that have happened to me. Yes, I’m damaged inside and outside from all of it. Yes, I’m broken, but I’ve never given up on the hope that I could be better. Even when life was at it’s toughest, I looked for a way forward. That glimmer of light that I could follow and use to find my way to the surface.

Earlier in life I was closed off from my entire family. I’d found a way to seal off everything. This was done for the protection of both them and myself. I had to learn to have no feelings, or at least make it look on the surface as if I had none. Feelings were a way for the “others” to find their way in and bring harm to you. If I were to have told anyone in my family all of the things that were going on, they would surely have been harmed. I’m certain that I would have met with my own demise as well. While all of this was going on and I was locked away from everything, I was still seeking that light. Music became my escape from pain. At times when I felt like I was going to explode internally, I turned to music to find a way through. So many times I was able to push through the pain and continue to survive.

If you spend any time around me now, you’ll probably hear some kind of music playing in the background. I have it on now while I’m doing this blog, and I have it on while I’ve been writing my book. You can hear music while I do housework, clean cars or any of the many activities that I perform throughout the day. Music keeps me going. Some of it just has to do with the way it sounds. Then there are the songs that you swear the artist knew exactly what you were feeling when they wrote the song. You associate with the song and it somehow becomes a part of you. I’ve used music to survive and continue to use it in my healing process. It’s safe to say that it’s a necessity in my life.

There is an actual name for when you get chills, or goosebumps from listening to music. It’s known as frisson. Here is some interesting information about the music and brain connection from Science Times.

“What happens to your brain when you get chills:

The study suggests that the denser fiber in the brain means that the auditory and emotion-processing areas of the brain of those who get chills are better able to communicate with each other, thus the stronger reaction they have to what is called musical stimuli. Sachs also concluded in his study that those who get the chills have a higher tendency to experience more intense emotions than those people who do not feel anything while listening to music.”

This helps me to understand myself a little better. I’ve always felt that my brain was hyperactive anyway, and to find that an actual brain/music connection has been proven scientifically is a game changer. The intensity that I could have with my emotions was at times scary for me to process. I also learned later that I have the tendency to react to stressful events in a trauma-driven way. Life or death, black or white.

Learning more and more things about myself and the reasons that I’ve acted the way I have for so many years is helpful. In prior self evaluations I had just thought of myself as “crazy.” Now I understand that I am damaged yes, but not crazy. There’s science behind much of what I feel and how I react. Knowing this makes life going forward look much clearer. I’ve always said that what I seek is truth, clarity, and peace in my life. The idea of being able to just relax and let life come at me slowly makes my eyes fill with tears of joy. The trail seems brighter and peace seems obtainable. As stated in the writing that I opened with, “One day you’ll make peace with your demons, and the chaos in your heart will settle flat, and maybe for the first time in your life, life will smile right back at you, and welcome you home.” I look forward to life smiling back at me. It’s something that I’ve always searched for. When that time arrives, I’ll know that I’ve truly arrived home.

Thank you for following along on my journey.

~Robert~

Finding Peace Through Ghosts From The Past

June 9, 2025June 9, 2025 / Zombie / Leave a comment

Finding the road to healing and revisiting ghosts from your past. While I’m in a much better place today, I still have set-backs. Some are small and manageable, others require me stepping back into my counselor’s office. “Trauma isn’t just what happened. It’s also what you had to go through alone.” Feeling alone was a huge part of my past. Being unable to tell anyone what was going on or about the things that I was involved in was, at times, soul crushing. There was no way to be comforted. I learned early in my life to be small, invisible, and quiet.

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“Robert is such a quiet guy, and so shy.” These kind of descriptions followed me throughout my school life. I never wanted to be noticed. The further out of the light that I could keep myself, the better everything would feel. I was hypervigilant all of the time. I could feel things that others would never pay attention to. While it was a service to me at times, it also caused me to be anxious and to fear relationships. I was unable to trust people and it was exhausting.

Things can happen in “ordinary” life that can trigger these feelings to surface. Sometimes it’s the smallest thing. The way something is said, a look from a person or, of course, verbal confrontation. There are so many times when I’ve found myself wanting to revert back to the scared child. Looking for an escape, a place to hide and not be seen. Oddly enough, the other side of this same coin is that as an adult, I get almost hostile when I’m not heard or seen. There was a turning point toward the end of high school where I became defiant towards my “boss”. I’d started to believe more in myself and my confidence was growing. A new and better life could actually be obtained. The internal battle raged.

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I recently did a blog about my high school typing teacher. Telling you all how important she became in my turn around. The “it” factor that she possessed somehow transferred to me. I felt that everything she was telling me was true. So much so that I changed the direction that I had been heading. I’ve also stated that there’s a good possibility she was instrumental in saving me. I was finally able to meet her face to face recently. We had breakfast together at a local restaurant and then went back to her home where we discussed all parts of my life. She was inquisitive, thoughtful, gracious and had wonderful things to share. While she couldn’t place me in her mind from many moons ago, it didn’t matter. She’d welcomed me and wanted to hear my story. My main reason for reaching out to her in the first place was I wanted so much to tell her “thank you.” There are not many moments you get to sit down with someone so important to you and say what you really needed to say. I was gifted these moments in time, and I’m forever grateful for our paths crossing.

Ms. Osborn, my teacher was a ghost from my past that I needed to visit me again. I’d felt that there was unfinished business. I’ve found that I continue to look back at times to reach out to those who meant something to me. The ones who guided me even if they were never aware. The girl that I dated through most of high school would be another one of these ghosts. She was a bright light of hope during a time when all I knew was darkness. During the time we spent together, I was allowed to see the world through different eyes. We talked recently and she said that “I think you had more than one side and maybe that’s what you shared with me. Like a respite from the other.” Yes, it was a moment to breathe, to just be.

My road to recovering from my past was littered with so many who had hoped they could reach me. People who thought they’d found a way in, only to find that I’d already closed up and moved on. My random moments of anxiety, or shame were things that I was unable to express. To this very day I struggle sometimes to tell my own wife how I’m feeling, or why I’m feeling a certain way. Feelings of doubt climb into my head and I say things like “she doesn’t need to hear this” or perhaps “she’s heard enough and doesn’t need to hear this anymore.” The kid from the past then takes it all and places it in a hidden box. Stay small, don’t let her see you.

This, my friends, is why I blog. I can’t be the only one on the planet who has these kinds of feelings. In fact I know that I’m not. I had to seek out the ghosts that I knew could help me, once again, continue on the path that I need to stay on. Solid ground that will help me to move forward and be happy. In fact the parting words that my teacher shared with me were this. “Robert, live your life, live your life to the fullest and be happy.” Once again she said the right thing at the right time. A ghosts came to me and told me to be free of everything and live. It would be a disservice to her if I didn’t follow through with that. I may struggle, I may fall back a step, but I’ll never quit. Peace is right around the corner.

Thank you for following along on my journey.

~Robert~

Why It’s Okay to Cry: Lessons from Childhood Trauma

May 22, 2025May 22, 2025 / Zombie / Leave a comment

I’m sure that there are more than a few of you out there who are familiar with the term “stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about.” This was a popular phrase used during the years I was growing up. Subtle threats of violence were used in order to gain control of children. “If I stop this car you’re going to be sorry.” While we can read these now and perhaps snicker, there is something to this that begs for attention. Crying is defined as “the shedding of tears, weeping.” Depending on your situation, there’s often much more behind the tears, or weeping. I’ll explore this and share my view.

I was raised to keep emotions in check. The phrase “stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about” was more than just a phrase to me, it was reality. While my father was not one for beating kids, he had other tactics that could dig in deeper. He spoke in such a fashion that fear cut straight through your heart. You truly felt that if you uttered so much as another peep, terrible things would be unleashed upon you at any given moment. I learned to be silent. I was trained to control tears much the same way that he did when he was growing up. There was literally just a handful of times that I saw my father actually cry. He even remained a stone wall when family members passed away. He was meant to be strong, and tears were a sign of weakness to him. This too was passed on to me: Tears are for the weak. Show nothing. Feel nothing.

This made things easy when transitioning from my father’s grasp to that of a drug czar. “There are no friends in the business” along with “never trust anyone” were carryovers from the days of no crying. I never shed a tear for anyone while doing my “job” in the drug world. I felt nothing for anyone, and if I did see someone crying, it only hardened me further. In my head, they were weak and should be brushed aside. That was my reality.

Years later, once I stepped into the room with my counselor and started to explore all of the events of the past, I felt myself welling up, wanting to cry. I’d immediately stop talking and get angry because I was spilling these tears of “weakness.” I was doing so in front of another human which made it even worse because now I was vulnerable. I’d find myself trying to hide the tears, or quickly wiping them from my cheek as if they never existed. Amy would ask me why I was getting upset about crying. I’d explain that it showed my weakness, I didn’t want anyone to see that side of me. I was trained this way, and carried it through my adult life that tears were a bad thing. Occasionally I’d have moments in the shower where I’d just let everything leak out without any witnesses. Or perhaps late at night when my wife had gone to bed, I’d hide my eyes in my recliner and weep. I would sob – a thing that I wasn’t “supposed” to do.

Let me say now that this way of thinking is so very wrong. We should let children experience everything and allow emotions to be shown. Tears are a part of that and can be cleansing. I found in my therapy that more and more frequently, tears would be shed. The reason was simple: I’d come back to life! I was experiencing things that I’d never been allowed to in the past. I was crying (in public!), and my tears didn’t make me weak, they were making me whole again. I was beginning to heal. I learned that as a child I was damaged and always waiting for someone, or something to help me. I realized as an adult that it was me that I was waiting for. I think at times that I’ve become the person that I wish would’ve been there for me earlier in my life. I feel as though I’ve grown into this superhero of sorts. Standing by saying, “It’s alright to cry.” It takes time to unlearn all of the things that we learned earlier in our lives. We need to be patient and forgiving. There’s that word again, “Forgiving.” The definition of Forgiving is the action or process of forgiving or being forgiven. While I’ve always hoped others would forgive me for my transgressions, I’ve been seeking my own forgiveness for a very long time. I can feel myself sitting right on the edge of this, but not quite there. Time will have to be my friend and guide me to the forgiveness that I seek.

If you find yourself shedding tears for loss, for trauma, or perhaps just in happiness, be good with it. Feel the salty warmth of the tears run down your cheek – really feel it. Your body wants to let go of emotions. Don’t hold them in or stuff them down. You have my permission to let go – it’s alright to cry.

Thanks for following along on my journey.

~Robert~

The Power of Mothers: A Tribute

May 11, 2025 / Zombie / Leave a comment

“Mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of all children.”

The Movie (The Crow)

When I think of mothers, I think of so many adjectives that describe them and the many things that they do. Sacrifice is something that comes to mind. Mothers sacrifice so much for the sake of their children. They’re able to put the life of others before their own. This is a rare trait in the world today and is one that needs to be looked upon with awareness. These selfless warriors make sure that households run as well-oiled machines. They, in many cases handle all the family finances, juggle a work schedule along with all the many appointments that come with children. Doctor visits, getting back and forth to school, sports practices and events, the lists go on and on. It doesn’t stop as the children grow older, it can even expand. Let’s look more into this phenomenon known as Mothers.

While my mother suffered from mental illness/depression, she worked hard to make sure that we had some form of foundation to work from. I’ve blogged about her many times, and I want to be clear, I loved my mother very much. I learned as an adult all the things she’d gone through in her life, which gave me pause. There was no way for me to judge the things that she was unable to do when she struggled so much herself. I needed to see through that and understand what she did manage. She managed a household with four children, all very close in age, so that meant we were all going through things at the same time. This had to be done in many cases with little to no money coming in. We were hungry on many occasions but never starved. We struggled with wearing hand-me-downs that were given to us by other families, but we had clothes to wear. We never had the best of everything, but we had something. There’s a lot to be said with all of this. We learned to be humble and grateful. We also learned the value of education. While my mother was not super pushy about getting us up and out in the morning, she always pushed us to keep up with our assignments. She’d guide us when we had questions about classes. This was all happening while she had so much going on inside of herself.

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My mother had a calmness about her. While I took after my father in many ways, including the “take no shit” kind of attitude, I was balanced out with a piece of my mother’s gentle side. When I’d be all worked up about something I knew that my mother would have the right words to settle me. “This too shall pass” was a regular from her lips. There was a time when I was an adult and had a dispute with a contractor that was working on my property. The guy decided to take things to the next level and threatened me with violence. This happened during a phone call and my approach was much like my father. After the guy finished spewing his hostilities I said with a very calm voice “where are you at right now?” My plan was simple, to go where he was and handle him the way that I knew how to. As I was walking towards the door of my parent’s home, my mother stepped in front of me and said, “think about what you’re about to do. This is a time to remain calm because once you leave here and find him, you could lose everything.” Her words found their way into my brain when it was spinning out of control. She even delivered it in such a way that I immediately stopped. I felt what she was saying and knew that she was right. I would lose everything if I left. There was no other person on this earth that could’ve stopped me on that day. When I’m ready for battle, I’m all business and become tunnel-visioned. While I was much larger than my mother, she seemed impassable at that moment. These are the things that mothers are capable of. The power of a mother extends everywhere, and with everyone. I’ve met many rough individuals in my life and I’ll tell you that all of them had respect for the woman that brought them into this world. It didn’t matter who they were, or how wicked they could be. When it came to their mothers, they all became children again.

I’ve worked with mostly women for the better part of my life and have seen so many keep things together that would make most men run for cover. They deserve everyone’s respect and love. I know that I have profound respect for all the people that surround me in my life, and I do what I can to make it known. I celebrate their successes with them and try to be there when they’re just tired of the world. I’d ask that we all take a moment in our life for Mother’s Day. Make it something special. Look to the women in this world with honor and respect. Know that they’re capable of doing everything that needs to be done and without a thought for themselves. We owe them that. We owe them more than a day for sure. To all the mothers out there that are reading this, I see you on Mother’s Day and every day. You have my admiration, my respect and my gratitude. Thank you for all that you do.

Thank you for following along on my journey.

~Robert~

How a Typing Teacher Inspired My Life Transformation

May 9, 2025May 10, 2025 / Zombie / Leave a comment

I know that I’ve talked about my High School typing teacher in at least a few of my blogs. I’ll also tell you that she’s in my book that I’m currently working on right now. The reason for this, she was instrumental in helping me see that it was possible to turn my life around. I felt as though she could see through me at times and wanted desperately to confess all of my sins to her. (Spoiler alert-I never did). Let me explain this further.

When I decided to sign up for typing class in High School, I never had any desire to become some kind of great typist, nor did I really care what the outcome would be from the class. It was a time filler for me to just get by. At that point in my life, I was deeply embedded in the underworld and had far greater things to be worrying about than my classes. I was dealing with people who were much harsher about failure, so I adjusted my attitude accordingly. I started in the class and dropped myself directly in the very back seat. It was close to the door which gave me the ability to slide out quickly. When I began the class, I never gave a second thought as to what kind of teacher I would be facing, or what she might think of me. This was just where I was mentally at the time.

Ms. Joan Osborn stepped into the room and you could hear her heels clicking on the old wooden floor as she walked. She walked with purpose and had a way about her. Fearless and confident, some might see her as intimidating. To me, she was just another teacher in a long line of teachers that I’d run into over the years growing up. She put her name on the chalkboard and stated that she would be addressed as Ms. Osborn, nothing else. She laid out what the class was about and what she expected. She then stated she would be teaching us all about the typewriter, the home row, and then start doing drills to see what our abilities were. Ms. Osborn had a toughness to her, an edge if you will. It was something that captured my attention. I listened to what she had to say and found myself beginning to think that I just might be interested in this class.

As time progressed, Ms. Osborn seemed to sense something about me and decided that I needed to be placed directly in front of her desk, in the very front row. I’d done some drills and showed promise, along with speed on the keyboard. She had kind of a sly smirk when she moved me and stated that she wanted to make sure I was paying attention and getting the directions that she was giving. I’m certain that I came off as uncaring or a bit of a slacker when I first arrived in her class, but that quickly changed. I soon found myself being one of the fastest typists. More importantly, I found that I was enjoying what I was doing. Who would ever think that some punk drug runner would be excited to be typing.

I cruised through her class and did so with good grades. She had kept her eye on my progress and had me stay around after class at the end of the year. She told me about a program that she felt I’d benefit from. A business block of classes that would further my abilities. I hadn’t taken the required business block classes prior to this, but she stated that my typing abilities were good enough that she’d be willing to vouch for me and assist me to get into these block classes. I found myself agreeing to go through the process and get into these classes. She was true to her word and did vouch for me. I was able to get into this block class which furthered my desire for a new way of life.

I think that it’s safe to say that Ms. Osborn came into my life at a key moment. Was this another divine intervention? She became a key reason that I chose a different path going forward. I would go so far as to say that she may have saved my life. I was headed down a road that most certainly would’ve ended in destruction. I didn’t care if I lived or died. To have someone who noticed me, saw me for something more than what I saw in myself was an amazing moment. She spoke to me in a way that I started to believe that I could have a life outside of what I was doing. I began to believe that I could have a future and live past 30 years of age. I now had visions of being something more. This in turn made me more defiant towards those who would hold me back and use me. The power of a teacher, the power of a person taking time out of their own life to lift another person up. I wanted so much to tell her what my real life had been like, to confess all my terrible things, because for some reason, I felt like she’d understand and would reassure me that I’d be alright.

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I’ve thought about Ms. Osborn throughout my life. I always wanted to go back and see her to let her know what she meant to me and how she’d made such a difference in my life. All the things that she taught me and told me about life turned out as she stated. She’d told me that my typing abilities would be something that I could use throughout my life and that I was good enough that I’d never want for work. She was right! Typing has served me very well. I sit here now typing these blogs because of her. I’ve not only survived, but thrived in my workplace because of my typing abilities, just as she said I would.

I decided to do more google searches to see if she was still around. I’d looked a couple of times but never really found anything solid. I attempted again recently and found that when she married, she’d hyphenated the two names. This threw off the original search I’d done earlier on. Once I found out this detail, I searched with the hyphenated last name and got a hit! I then “typed” up a letter to Ms. Osborn and sent it off. I explained who I was and that she may not even remember me, but if she was interested, I wanted to meet and let her know just how important of a person she’d been in my life. I will tell you that as of yesterday, I received a card from her and she gave me her number so that we can make a plan to have lunch and chat. I’m more than excited about this and feel that It’s way overdue for me to tell her in person everything that I’ve shared here. She needs to know that her time with me not only changed me but saved me. My road was still tough, and I’ve struggled with the demons from all the years in the underworld, but she gave me the hope, or shall we say “set the fire” that I needed to change.

I’ll report back after I set up our meeting so that I can tell you how everything went. Even if it’s a quick lunch, I’ll find satisfaction in all of it because I was given the opportunity to thank someone who truly deserves to be thanked. This is a moment for me to sit with one of my real-life heroes. Thank you, Ms. Osborn, for caring, and for seeing something in a poor kid from the East Side. I’m forever grateful.

Thank you all so much for following along on my journey.

~Robert~

Finding Hope in Darkness

May 2, 2025May 2, 2025 / Zombie / Leave a comment

May begins Mental Health Awareness month. I’d ask that everyone do a self evaluation this month as well as look out for those around you that are, or might be struggling. There are so many stresses in this world today, you never know when someone will reach their breaking point. There are many that suffer in silence and are just trying to get by one day at a time. This is part of my story.

I’d always appeared to be the quiet one, the shy guy that many thought had everything together. No one knew the ghosts that haunted me for so many years of my life. The demons that were following me at every turn. There were so many times that I just wanted to give up. To give into the darkness and be free of pain, fear and feeling. While there are many reasons that people struggle with mental illness, I’ve been able to pin point exactly what events and person assisted in breaking me. There are times when I see someone on the street that might be talking to themselves, or staring off into the abyss and I wonder what was the defining moment in their life that brought them to this? Was it a singular moment in time, or was it more of a slow bleed? Was there abuse of some kind, or perhaps getting lost in a haze of drug use? These are all things that I think of because I walked in that darkness. I was searching for something, for someone to find me. Hoping that I’d be saved, perhaps from myself.

I’d reached a point that so many nightmares had chewed at my sleep, so much of my happiness was being drained, that I just felt anger. I was angry at the world and myself. I walked with a daring look on my face waiting for the moment for someone to say or do the wrong thing so that I could unleash my rage. A time bomb waiting to explode. While I felt that all of this was in some fashion normal. It’s what I knew growing up. Yet it didn’t feel right. Years of hiding these feeling and searching. If it hadn’t been for the need to find a counselor for my daughter, I’m not sure that I would’ve been able to find my way out of this. Taking her to a counselor to address issues that she was having exposed me and my damage to a professional that was able to spot it. Her kind and gentle approach was something I wasn’t used to. My initial response was to be skeptical. What did she want from me? Why did she think she could help me?

Once I’d agreed to begin my journey with her, I still kept so much hidden away. It took time for me to let down the walls that I’d spent a lifetime building up to protect myself from the world and everything in it. With each session I became more at ease around her, and as time went on I began to give full disclosure to the level of depravity that I’d fallen to in my life. I showed her my brokenness only to find her reach out and tell me that she would guide me through this, that I had value, that I was worth saving. I can’t tell you how many times I cried in front of Amy, I’m certain I’ve gone through many tissues in her company. I had to become vulnerable, to not fear showing who and what I really am.

I still have moments that I struggle. Even now when I write I question myself. Thinking things like why are you writing all of this? You don’t even write very well, you don’t speak very well, you are not to be seen. These are true feeling that I have, right now. I sit and work on my book and read back through all of the things that I’ve typed and save in the computer and wonder, who if anyone would want to read this? What makes you think you’re special? At the same time I look over the events and feel shame for the things that I’ve seen and done. I tell you this because I think it might matter to someone. The struggle that I have is daily and I’ve learned to believe that I do matter and what I have to say is important. I write most of the time strictly for myself. It’s cleansing for me to put my feelings down like this. Am I a writer? Yes! I push past all the feelings that I’ve talked about each time, knowing that if it’s not perfect, that’s o.k. What I put on here is an extension of me, it’s baring my soul for all to see, so it does matter. I matter.

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I think many that struggle with mental health issues share a common bond. We all feel as though we’re less than. We want nothing more than to be seen and heard, to be included as part of this world. I’d like to believe that we as humans can take notice of those that struggle and offer something. It doesn’t cost you anything to be kind, that’s a great start. A smile is easy and free. Asking how someone is doing and actively listening when they speak. Take a moment out of your busy day to do things like this and you could be the one that makes a difference. Donate to shelters, volunteer your time to food pantries, support these organizations with your dollars if you have them to spare. All of this can move us forward and possibly save a life.

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My story is complex and ugly at times. A single person saw my struggle and turned my life around. Had I remained on my road of Silence and Secrets, I fear I would’ve given up at some point. Please, hear my words and be the reason that someone decides to keep getting up each day. Be the change in someone’s world. While May is Mental Health Awareness Month, remember that for many out there, every month is awareness, every day and minute.

I’m here if ever needed. I’ll listen to your story, and do what I can to validate your feelings. Stay strong!

Thank you for following along on my journey.

~Robert~

Empathy Over Exclusivity: My Perspective

May 2, 2025 / Zombie / Leave a comment

I took some much needed vacation recently and headed West. The California coastline is a favorite for my wife and I. The seemingly endless beauty that the state has to offer is a calling to my restless soul. I found myself sleeping better, enjoying the many sights and sounds, along with dreaming of a way to stay there forever. Reality sets in when you wander the neighborhoods and see the fliers that are curbside with homes that are on the market. Millions of dollars just for the asking price and then you have to consider the inflated costs of maintaining said properties. It’s fair to say that this particular area of the West coast offers everything, but only to the chosen few that have the means to support such beauty.

Why is it that the most beautiful places on earth are only for the wealthiest? Don’t get me wrong, I find beauty in many of the areas that I frequent in my own part of the country, and I find ways to enjoy things with little to no cost to them. Keeping things “exclusive” is a way to keep others away. Those that might drive the fanciest cars, or wear the finest jewelry. People that use coupons and think through their routes based on how to conserve gas because of the rising cost. It seems that in this country there’s a price to pay for anything. I’ve always felt this way because I learned in my prior life that “Nothing in this world is free.”

While planning this trip, I decided at the last minute to upgrade our flights to first class. This was the second time in my entire life that I went the extra mile and paid more for a ticket to fly. Why you ask? Because I wanted to see how the “others” live. I wanted to experience having just two seats side by side with easy reclining to them, rather than three jammed tightly together and my knees bruised by the end of a flight because the person in front of me decided to recline. I wanted to experience the extras that are given to those who can afford to pay for them. The extra service, food, and luxury. Having my bags fly and tagged as “priority”, with no extra costs. (although it’s included in your ticket cost) Being guided to the front of the line when entering the plane and looked upon as if royalty. While on one hand it was an amazing experience, I couldn’t help but think, “I don’t belong here.” I’m just an average human that struggles like everyone else to get through life. It’s not because I don’t work hard, nor is it because I’m lazy. Some parts of this world are just roped off to the chosen few. I’ll explain further.

We visited a cute little town in the upper part of Michigan. One of the things that my wife and I like to do is walk about and see what the town looks like. I like to explore areas that have unique architecture and take notice of old world neighborhoods. In this particular town, we wandered into an area that had a gate of sorts. It wasn’t blocking you from coming in, but it was stated clearly by signs everywhere that not everyone was welcome. There were even signs telling you to stay on sidewalks and don’t venture anywhere else. We decided to walk through the area because you could see from a distance that the homes were spectacular and unique. As we walked through the area, you could feel the prying eyes watching your every move. You knew that you were an “outsider” and not welcomed. The perfect lawns, sculptured hedges and multiple high end vehicles in the drives were setting the tone of who could be there. The area, while beautiful became ugly in my mind just because of the feel that it had. The true ugliness that it carried on it’s perfect streets. We moved on after just a short stroll through.

This is something that I’ve experienced throughout my life. A poor kid that grew up shopping at the local A&P store, mixing up powdered milk when there wasn’t enough regular milk to get by on. A kid that found his way into the underworld, guided by people that promised a better life, food to eat, power through threats, and strength through intimidation. When I tried my best to get away from this life, I found that the world was still not very welcoming. I was judged by my zip code, by the school that I went to, and the lack of the best clothing. I made it a personal fight to prove those that would hold me back that I was just as good as them, perhaps better. Nothing had ever been handed to me, I struggled for everything. I appreciated any small amount of money that I could squirrel away. I toiled over second rate vehicles time and time again so that they shined like new money. Again, I appreciated everything.

I’m not saying all of this because I hate anyone that was born into a world of privilege. It’s not their fault that they were given things that I could only dream about as a kid. What I take issue with is that as they grow, they don’t notice those that do have to struggle. They’re comfortable sitting in that first class seat and looking down at the others that have to shuffle by and squeezed together in discomfort. I find fault in people raising these children to become adults that are good with glaring at others they feel don’t belong in their neighborhood, or gating them out so that they can’t share the beauty of their town. The beauty of this world was meant to be shared, it’s not just for the chosen few. I take some comfort in knowing that while many of these families might have everything beautiful around them in a physical sense, they don’t have what the rest of us hold onto dearly. We have empathy. We see others in this world and want to share the beauty and joy that it offers. We strive to bring others up that struggle rather than walking past them in some kind of ignorant bliss.

First class might offer more room, a better meal and standing at the front of the line, but the journey was still the same. I still would’ve made it to my destination, I’m good with bringing my own snacks. I don’t mind being with my people. We are many. The kid that always felt like he belonged on the outside of the beautiful has found a way in. It was a struggle, it was a learning experience, and it was hard, but I appreciate all of it that much more. There was a time that I felt like I’d sold my soul to stay alive, yet I persevered. I’m good with using coupons and not having the best of everything. I’ve become comfortable in my own skin. While it makes me sad that there are still so many parts of the world that are held out of reach to myself and others, I don’t feel that I’m lacking. I loved my trip, my vacation, my time with my bride. I enjoyed our experiences, our sights, and our memories. When all is said and done, I think that I’m the richest one. There is no holding me back, no roping me off, I’ll find beauty wherever I may roam.

Thank you so much for following along on my journey.

~Robert~

Transforming Empathy: A Journey from Selfishness to Compassion

April 19, 2025 / Zombie / Leave a comment

When does something matter to you? Are you the type of person who focuses solely on yourself, and maybe your immediate family? Perhaps you’re the kind of person who looks at things on a broader scale and has empathy for those around you. I’m always curious about what others think and feel, that’s why I’m asking. When I was younger and around drug dealers and street thugs, I found that none of them cared about anything outside of their own being. I kind of slid into that way of thinking because I was so focused on just surviving. As I’ve progressed through my life, my thoughts progressed as well, so let’s explore that.

Being in the business and watching my “boss” make loads of cash with all the freedoms in the world, it was appealing, especially to a very young teen who hadn’t had a chance to really get a view of the world. I knew of nothing other than a very closed group. Life didn’t exist outside of that bubble. It was so bleak that I never felt that I’d live past the age of 30. I was all about the here and now, the instant gratification, the quick buck! What I found was once my eyes and ears opened to some people who came into my life, I began to realize just how big the world really was. I began to see things from a new and exciting perspective. While it didn’t sit well with my boss, and believe me, he tried with all of his might to keep me held back, under the iron fist. It was only a matter of time before I broke free of this closed minded thinking.

I’ve been writing about this in my upcoming book and how I started to “transform.” It would take many years to really break out of the shell that I’d created, but my thinking was always open to possibilities. I went from thinking that I was nothing, to believing that I could do anything. While I kept all of my secrets about my “prior life”, I still managed to keep an open mind. Talking to others, learning about what their fears were, what they might have gone through in their lives, and how they struggled. So much of the suffering that went on and still goes on is so preventable. Losing yourself in the shadow of another is what happened to me. I’d lost myself, become a non-entity who had very few feelings for others. I spent my time building an empire for someone who had me believing it meant something, that I was special. Mobster mentality if you will. You are meant to serve the powers at the top without question.

In these times of uncertainty and struggle, I find myself reflecting on what I’ve seen and gone through and likening it to the times that are before us now. This in turn makes me look at people around me once again and raise the question, “Does anyone even care?” Have we as a society lost our way, and possibly our soul?

I was mowing my lawn yesterday and my neighbor pulled into his driveway. He hassled me about mowing my lawn and thus “forcing” him to do his in order to keep up. We both chuckled and then had further discussion about things going on in his life. His wife was in the hospital again and he was having issues with his knee. He was still smiling and saying how he wished things would be better so that they could travel but had started to believe that would probably never happen due to health issues. It was a moment of pause for me. I’m still healthy enough to do as I wish and travel freely. I felt something right there and then for his situation. What could I do to show that I cared? Well, I started up my mower and began mowing his lawn. He didn’t ask me to do it, or even ask for help. I made the choice that was clear to me. It was the right thing to do. I felt for this man and just wanted to show that I cared. It didn’t take much time and when he walked out and found the lawn mowed, he smiled from ear to ear. He asked why I’d done this. I simply replied “because I wanted to.” He then said, “you didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate it.” There was nothing more that needed to be said. This is what humans are supposed to do, it’s what we’re supposed to be like. It doesn’t take much to apply what someone else is going through to your own thoughts and then offer help. Step outside of your bubble and experience things as others might. It’s why I always try to be kind to people who are perhaps having a rough go of it. It costs nothing to be kind. A smile or acknowledgment of someone can go a long way.

I don’t have all the answers to the world’s problems, but I do care about how we humans continue to form our society. I’d like to believe that there are enough of us out there that we can see through the eyes of others, feel their strife and possibly do something about it. So, then we get back to my original question that I posed: What kind of person are you? Think it through. Ask yourself what kind of world you want to live in. Are you happy? Do you feel anything for others in this world? I once was cold and the way I viewed the world was sad, unforgiving, full of hate and greed. I’ve worked hard to clear that away and see everything, and everyone. I remain hopeful that we can all find our way through in the coming years. If we can’t, our future is bleak, and uncertain. What are you willing to do about it?

As seen through the eyes of Zombie, and now Robert.

Thank you so much for following me on my journey,

~Robert~

Finding Peace For A Restless Soul

April 14, 2025April 14, 2025 / Zombie / Leave a comment

I found a tattoo in one of my many searches of the internet that grabbed me. It was an antique typewriter that said the words “I write only because there is a voice within me that will not be still.” That touches my soul. I truly cannot be still inside. I’ve referred to myself as being a “restless soul” for many years. I also feel that the reason I’ve survived everything is because my work is not done yet. I’m starting to believe, or at least feel that part of my purpose is to write. I always have something that I feel could be shared that in turn can assist someone else in their journey. Life is truly a journey and how we choose to live it is in our hands. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. You hold the power.

When I talk about past issues or the things that I’ve experienced through the years. I do so always thinking how I would feel if I stumbled across this blog earlier in my life. In a way, I’m speaking to my younger self at times, trying to guide my ship into the harbor. I was so lost, so hopeless and alone at points. I could have used this kind of blog then. When I sit here writing my book I think about all the stories that play out and when I read back through, sit in amazement that I’m still here. My restless self refused to ever give up. That is what I try to project when I write now. That even when things are at their worst, search for an out. Search for that light that can guide you so that you can find your peace.

Photo by Gantas Vaiu010diulu0117nas on Pexels.com

My sister and I were sitting in my driveway tonight and both of us have had our share of crap thrown our way. We’ve come to a point that all we desire is peace. It’s just that simple. I don’t long for things, for stuff, or great fortunes. I want peace. I want to be able to live inside of my own head and feel good. I want to shed those that would bring about rage and feelings of old. While I’m good at confrontation and have found that I’m good at inflicting pain, I choose to step away from all of it. I simply want peace.

“There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.” (Laurell K. Hamilton) We all have them, wounds that for some, never heal. Whatever your life situation might be, you can make it better. As I stated before, I feel at times that I’m talking to my younger self. I’d want him to know that there will be an end to the loneliness and pain. The burdens will one day be lifted and peace will surround you. Like sitting in a warm quilt on a cold Winter’s night. In order to achieve this kind of peace, work has to be done.

I got on here tonight to write and calm my soul a bit. To cleanse myself after writing more of my book. The book is part of my work to find my inner peace. To calm that restless soul. Pouring things out in my book is stepping back in time and with that comes some picking at old wounds. Some are just relationships that were shared and left behind. I had a moment tonight that made me look up a girl I dated while still “in the business.” She was a damaged human that had demons of a different sort. I cared deeply for her at one point in my life and had to let her go. She struggled with both alcohol and drugs as time went on. We stayed in touch for several years but at some point just lost touch and everything went radio silent. I was curious how things turned out for her and hoped it would be positive. That was not the case, she passed away in 2021 at the age of 52. Reading this was not entirely shocking to me, but made me sad nonetheless. She was a human that had dreams and too, wanted to quiet her demons. Our roads could have been much the same. I still remember the last time that we spoke and how I felt that she was so lost. I wish that there was something I could’ve said to her to give her hope. The idea that there’s always a new day tomorrow and we can make it better. Some never find that.

“Stalked by Demons, Guarded by Angels” This is on my RoadID that sits on the side of my Garmin watch. I feel that there is always something in my past, or some kind of demon that stalks me. I’ve managed to keep them out of my dreams for awhile now, but always feel that I need to stay a step ahead. When I’m restless and tired is when I look for those Angels to come and sit by me. I’ve had moments that I’ve simply closed my eyes and asked for something that I felt was too heavy to be lifted off of me. Moments that I just don’t feel I can get through alone. While I still struggle with my faith, I do feel that there is energy in our world. I’m never afraid to just step back and allow this energy to assist me. To let my restless, brokenness be still, even if it’s only for a few moments. To allow me to breathe and process. If I could say anything to my younger self it would be “Don’t try to carry your burdens alone.” Tomorrow will be a new day and there will be a chance to find what you truly seek, peace.

I’ll close out by enclosing a piece that I found.

Thank you so much for following along on my journey.

~Robert~

There will be people who move on without you, and people you admired that you can no longer look up to, and there will also be gaps in the trees where the wind blows through and reminds you: no matter the betrayal or the rejection, there is still room in this life to make meaningful, new connections.

MHN

From Isolation to Connection

April 5, 2025April 5, 2025 / Zombie / Leave a comment

After numerous conversations with folks, I wanted to take a minute and go back through why I blog and why I’m writing a book about my life. I also want to touch on what I want or expect from all of this. Let me say first off that I want nothing from you folks. I don’t ask for money, or sympathy. I’m just looking for people who want to know my story and possibly relate to others that may have gone through or are going through some kind of shit. I know how isolating that feels, so if I can write something that touches another human to help them find a way to freedom, that’s really all that I’m looking to do.

“I write for myself.” That’s a statement that I’ve made many times on my blog. I do it to set demons free that reside inside my head. It’s a way of me cleansing things that have made me feel dirty for far too long and I’ve found that it’s good for me. I love the platform of a blog because anyone who feels the desire to read what I put out can do so with no expectations. If what I write touches you, that’s a bonus to what I do. If I can help someone, even better. Just the idea that I’m sitting down and writing about things that have been stuck inside of me for so long is serious progress for me. I never wanted to tell my story or say things about my life to others. Some of that story has been on the outside of the law, so I’ve always worried about that portion. I’ve also worried about people with whom I’ve dealt in my past coming back to haunt me in some fashion. That threat remains to this day. I believe that most are gone now, so there’s a level of comfort in that, but you just never know who knows who, or who is related to someone who might take a shine to things I talk about. This is the main reason that I keep things vague at times. I won’t share places, or persons with anyone outside of my counselor’s office. It’s just not smart.

I’ve had people reach out and say that they feel sorry for me because of what I’ve been through or offer some form of sympathy. I appreciate the gesture, but I want you to know that the choices that I made were my own. While I was a juvenile, and assisted down a path of destruction, there were points where I probably could have escaped, but didn’t. I too got caught up in the idea of money and power. People who have nothing are easy targets for those who would exploit them. I own everything that I’ve done. I also own the person that I became from all of this. What I never wanted to do was be held responsible for my feelings. I didn’t realize early on that all of this would come to the surface later in my life and torture me through nightmares and erratic behavior. If anything, I ask that you all celebrate that I reached out to a professional to get the help that I needed to make things right. That’s what started the whole turnaround. If I hadn’t done that, I’d still be sitting in silence, and the wounds would never have begun healing.

A co-worker told me that after reading one of my blog entries, she understood that I wasn’t looking for sympathy but stated that the next time she saw me she was going to hug me whether I wanted it or not. I will tell you now that hugs are always welcome. They can change a person’s day for sure, so hug away! That’s a thing that I had to learn to be alright with. Spending time with people in Al-anon helped me to get past my issues with people touching me or being too close to me. I’ve learned to be alright with hugs but still have serious issues with people being too close to me. If I don’t know you, you don’t want to get in my “zone.” I have a certain amount of space that I need in order to be able to breath and conduct my business. If you get into that area, I’ll probably give warning quickly. This too is part of growing up the way that I did. People in close proximity are considered to be a threat and threats need to be neutralized.

I’m still learning to be alright with my darker side. Understanding that it’s a part of me that will never go away is important. Being able to control it is necessary. While it’s served me well and made me into a strong and vigilant human, it needs to remain the quieter side of me. I’m working on seeing light and finding happiness in my world. Even in these times of confusion and chaos, I want to believe that there is better in the world. Chatting with others, sharing my story, and listening to those who have been through challenging times is helpful. I never want to feel alone again. If there’s one thing that I’m sure of, I will never isolate myself the way I did for the first part of my life. I will always speak my truth and find a way forward.

So, if you happen to see me around, feel free to speak with me and don’t shy away from any of the topics that I talk about on here. I’ve gotten pretty good at being open about everything. If any of the discussions make you feel sad for me, just know that I’m in a much better place now. No sympathy is required, in fact I’d prefer that we discuss things and keep it on the positive. I survived and I’m here to talk about it today. That’s worth celebrating, and if celebrating means hugs, I’m all in!

Thank you so much for following along.

~Robert~

The zombie file

Life seen through the eyes of Zombie

Author: Zombie

Understanding Emotional Healing: The Science of Music

Finding Peace Through Ghosts From The Past

Why It’s Okay to Cry: Lessons from Childhood Trauma

The Power of Mothers: A Tribute

How a Typing Teacher Inspired My Life Transformation

Finding Hope in Darkness

Empathy Over Exclusivity: My Perspective

Transforming Empathy: A Journey from Selfishness to Compassion

Finding Peace For A Restless Soul

From Isolation to Connection