As I sit here on the Christmas day, I stop and pause. How lucky I am to be in this home. I’m warm, I’m loved, and I find myself wanting for nothing. Nothing more than being able to continue on my journey of self discovery. Taking the time to seek peace, while passing through the darkness of my past. I’m truly humbled.
From the child that was lost and unsure of life, to the man that I’ve grown to be. I often wonder how I ever made it this far. I can say with great certainty that it wasn’t an easy road. There were moments that I wanted to give up, but something inside of me wouldn’t allow me to. No matter how dark it became, I kept searching for the light. I’m forever grateful to the many people along the way that guided me, listened to me, and noticed me. However I refer to them in my writings (Ghosts, Angels, Humans) they were are all special to me. Each provided something I was seeking and kept me on my road towards serenity.
I share all of this with you today because I’ve been moved yet again on this morning. My wife sees me for who I am. She gifted me a couple of shirts that lets me know she understands me. She knows my struggles better than most and is still able to love me…just the way that I am. She celebrates my victories and sits with me during my struggles. I don’t have to say anything to her, she knows. When you find that kind of connection with someone in your life, it’s truly a gift. There again, I never in my wildest dreams thought that I’d find someone that I could be so open with. That I could trust so completely. Yet here I am.
I take nothing in life for granted. I learned long ago that anything in your life can be snatched in the blink of an eye. Even your life itself can be taken away instantly. It sounds dark and ugly, but it’s truth. Truth is something that I always share in my blogs. So, on this day of worship, I’ll wrap myself in the love that surrounds me. I don’t need to step into a church to feel this way. My church is all around me. I celebrate my life and my rebirth. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes. I’ll stretch out my wings and fly.
I hope that whatever it is that you do today, you are at peace. I hope that you surround yourself with those that see you, and hear you. Most of all I hope you are loved, on this day and everyday going forward. I thank you all for your unwavering support of my writing, for this is truly my passion. Happy Holidays to you all.
What motivates you? What is it that drives us to get up and get things done? This can cover numerous topics; from work, working out, schooling. There are endless things that make us hustle. I happened across a saying in my travels that sits with me. “I have to work because I can’t fuck up. I don’t have anyone to fall back on. I am the back-up plan.” Once again this was something that had an immediate impact on me. Where I came from, there was no other way to make it other than to out hustle everyone. To put all of your trust in yourself. I carry a patch in my backpack that I carry for work right now that says “Believe in yourself.” Is this the person that you trust the most…yourself?
I trust in myself first and foremost. When you’ve spent as much time as I have secluded, you change inside. The world that I come from was one of hustle, but also of deceit. There was no one to rely on to keep me safe, that had to come from me. There was no one to motivate me, I had to seek it. My travels have been well documented on here. While I felt that life was going to be short, or that my future was bleak, I still sought better. I kept looking for the light at the end of the tunnel. I woke up each day looking for a way out of the maze of insanity. While I learned to hustle to stay alive, there was something else. What is that inner voice that makes you push?
I wake to each day looking for ways to better myself. Whether it’s in my performance at the gym, or my running/walking. I desire better. I view my work life in the same manner. I go to my job, work my hardest each day. I don’t do it so that I can move up. I’ve never considered myself a ladder climber. I do it because my inner voice says “get on the hustle!” Every single thing that I do is to feed my own desire. I’ve talked about the disappointment that I feel when I don’t meet the goals that I’ve set. If you’ve spent any amount of time with me, you can pick up on my energy. Some find it to be too much, while others question my motivation. I think that’s why I chose to talk about it tonight. It also was a fitting follow up to my “Seeking Perfection” blog. They tend to walk together.
I’ve encountered others on my journey that I see the same kind of push within them. Some have shared their views and I’ve found that many came from similar backgrounds. Some kind of traumatic happenings earlier in their life. So, perhaps it’s a trigger of sorts from the trauma? I don’t know. I can tell you that whenever I think back to being a hungry kid, it cranks my intensity up. I’m so scared of not being able to feed myself or my family. My memories are so vivid and the feelings in the pit of my stomach have never gone away. I know what I did at that age to make the pain go away. I hustled.
Where do you see yourself on this spectrum? Do you look at life from a competitive angle? Do you want to surpass others and sit at the top. “It’s lonely at the top, but you eat better.” That’s on an office sign as part of a collection that a previous employee gave me. There’s truth to the statement, but it’s not my kind of motivation. Do you just want to glide through life as easily as you can? I’m always curious how others think. There’s room for all of us. No two humans are the same. I won’t judge you for your choices, but I’ll probably never understand you. Much like many of you will never understand me. Just know that if you see me doing “things.” I’m feeding my own brain, my own soul. I’m not doing it for any kind of glory. This is part of my seeking. I’m seeking the best version of myself, and still feeding the boy that resides inside of me.
It’s been a minute since I’ve been able to sit down and get back into my comfort zone. When I tell you that I enjoy writing, it’s for real. All the many things that go through my head that I wish to set free. There’s also the need to finish out thoughts from conversations. I listen to pretty much everyone that takes the time to have an open discussion with me. If you remain open to others, there are things to be learned. That’s something that I learned early. Being trained as a voyeur is not always about what you see, but also the conversations. I take all of this information and process it. The end result is a person that is driven to seek not only truth but the best way forward. My desire for perfection is strong. Like my ability to figure people out, it can be considered both a blessing and a curse. Let’s see if I can reach others with this one. The “need” or “desire” for perfection.
As I stated, my training early in life was about watching and picking up on details. I learned to notice the smallest things. The study of humans started as a tween and has followed me my entire life. This is one of the many skills I acquired. I consider it to be helpful at times. People have a way of showing you who and what they are without knowing it. The subtle “ticks” that they have will allow you to figure things out about them. Focus too much and it can be maddening. There are times that I just want to be and not assess. This is where the struggle comes in. I have a strong desire to “stay ahead”. This is so I can’t be harmed. Because of this, it’s rare for me to shut down. Back in the day, seeking perfection was a way of staying alive. You can’t show a weakness or someone will exploit it. The armor is always on, and while the weight is tremendous, allowing a slip was deadly.
Moving forward, these subtle ways of managing life carry into other areas. Everything from the way you keep your home to the relationships you’re in. You have an expectation of yourself that is set at such a high level, it’s almost not obtainable. Imagine those around you when they stumble into your world. I say all the time the humans are flawed. I’m very aware of my shortcomings. I take ownership of each and every flaw that I have. The pressure that I place upon myself to get beyond those flaws is where I can get into trouble. There is literally no one that can come down on me harder than I do with myself. This is an area that I’m still working on. Attempting to free myself from the shackles I’ve placed on my own being.
I started this blog talking about seeing things through the eyes of Zombie. How I’ve viewed life as this voyeur, night crawler, sometimes demon. I’ve opened up my life to all of you. I hope that others will find a way through their own struggles. While doing this, I’ve started my own path to healing. I continue to discuss many topics that I feel can be useful and therapeutic. I see others that struggle with trying to keep things “perfect.” Anything from trying to manage their professional life, to perhaps just having a birthday party. The desire in us to please ourselves as well as others in our orbit can be draining. What is it that makes us this way? When did it start in your own life? This is something that I ponder when having my own thoughts about perfection. Not everyone experienced the type of trauma that I did growing up. So what was it that turned this on in their brain?
As I’ve aged, there has been a certain amount of wisdom that came about. I’ve learned that I physically can’t be “perfect.” The body is going to do what the body wants to do. I’m quite certain that I’ve had numerous discussions with my body about how it treats me…lol! While my brain says “hey, get your ass moving” the body does it’s own thing. I’ve also learned that all of this seeking of perfection is just too much. Exhaustion is usually the state that I find myself in. Don’t get me wrong, I still push, and I still use the abilities that I have. I’ve just learned that I’m not superman. I’m also not entirely the “Zombie” that I once was. Zombie was relentless in the pursuit of not only perfection, but survival. I’d like to think that I’m beginning to find a balance in all of this. As discussed with my counselor, I “embrace the darker side of me now.” I use the abilities/skills that I’ve acquired from the darkness to continue to survive. I also work towards being gentle with myself at times. I asked myself the question the other day after work…”what does perfection look like in your mind?” It’s not something that I can picture. The reason for this is simple, there really is no “perfect.” Striving to be my best and accepting my flaws is the direction that I’ll travel now. I won’t always be the best at something. I can’t win every battle. My new version of perfect is finding balance. Allowing others to teach me as I go forward in life. Once again that young boy inside of me that always wanted to be invisible. The one that sat quietly studying, watching, listening, and learning is still there. He’s asked that I finally take a step back and breathe. That being said; I digress.
Keep life in front of you. Seek love and light. Be strong in your convictions, but also take the time to be gentle with yourselves. These are all things that I knew very little of earlier in life. Learn from the lessons Zombie has put forth…and just breathe.
Thank you so much for following along on my journey.
There are moments that come about that spark something within me. Strike a nerve if you will. It can be from a casual conversation, a song, a movie or just random thoughts as I wander. Tonight, I was struck by something that was said during a movie. I invited my sister Leanna over to watch “The long walk.” It’s a Stephen King novel turned into a highly anticipated movie. We’d discussed watching for awhile now and finally had the chance. It did not disappoint, but it triggered feelings, and perhaps clarity.
I won’t get into the movie as I don’t want to spoil it for anyone planning on watching it. I will tell you that It’s set in post-apocalyptic times. That alone is something I have nightmares about all the time. Teens are made to walk until there is only one of them left. The two main characters in the movie talk about life while doing the long walk. They discuss how they came to be in this race. They also talked about what they wanted for their future if they won, and so on. The one character was getting upset as the miles began to climb and things became uncomfortable. After he expressed his frustration, the young man next to him advised him. He said he needed to gain control. “You’ve only been out here for a short time. How can you go complaining when you’ve only just begun? I’ve been doing the long walk my entire life.” As he went on to explain his childhood, or lack thereof, the gravity of his emotions grabbed me. I felt what he was saying. I’d been on the long walk as well. Always looking for a way to survive. A way to remain invisible so that I wouldn’t bring unwanted attention to myself. While this was a fictional movie, the message was clear. His life was harsh. He found himself on this long walk as way to a better life. Yet, he made the choice to always survive. To love rather than hate. To cherish friendships over seclusion. He wanted a better world not only for himself, but for others around him.
I found myself full of emotions. Tears welled up in my eyes and thoughts of my life started running wild. While I know where I’ve been, and know the things that I’ve done to survive. I’ve always looked towards hope. I leaned into survival at every turn. Along with these thoughts. I began to feel the connection to my current need to always be moving. My long walks that I cherish so much. This movie showed these young men walking as a way to survive. Staying at a set pace, moving through the miles, they could never stop…or they’d die. I’ve been on this road. I had to keep moving in order to stay alive. The promise to the winner was to be granted a wish. Anything that they desired would be granted, if they were the lone finisher. The winner, the survivor.
My walks now are a time of reflection. A way to shed the weight of the world. A time to remember where I came from and what I’m capable of. A step back in time, as well as a glimpse of my future. I’m still on that long walk but it feels different. I feel that I’ve shifted from the character in the movie that was full of darkness and driven by anger. I’ve become more of the one that chooses love, light and happiness. I think I always have, I just hadn’t realized it until now. Even at the darkest times, I wanted to find something better. I was thirsty for what others had, and drank in all of their positive energy. I held onto those that would make me feel better inside. All the while I was still on my long walk. These were the humans that may have carried me when I felt exhausted. The humans that looked after me when I felt no one cared. They were on my road making the long walk right along with me.
Life is a long walk. It’s full of peaks and valleys, rain, snow and sunshine. It wears your body down, but fills you with energy at the same time. It forces you to make choices and do things that are frightening. It test you with temptations and gifts you with all beauty of the world. The long walk is our lives. When we stop, we die. We don’t stop in the dramatic way depicted in movies. Instead, when we truly stop trying, pushing, striving, caring, and loving, we die. I learned tonight that while my journey early on in my life was dark and sad at times. I’m still here, still moving, still walking. I’m still alive and that’s something to celebrate. I want to be the one that cherishes what’s left of my life. Cherishing my loved ones, my friendships, my tribe.
The long walk is for all of us, step wisely. Hold onto hope and never quit. Reach for that finish line and be the survivor that’s granted your greatest wish. Until that day comes…I’ll see you on the road, of life!
I’m no stranger to hunger. While at this stage in my life I’m able to provide for myself and my family. There was a time when I struggled. Many of the decisions that I made early in my life were based on being poor and hungry. I found myself making a choice that I thought would take me in a better direction. This in turn put me in greater peril. When you find yourself having to make the hard choice between life and death, the moral line breaks down. I can see this happening in the world today and it’s something to be both feared and detested.
Photo by Henri Mathieu-Saint-Laurent on Pexels.com
We’re currently sitting on the edge of one of the largest shortfalls of food in our lifetime. The need to feed humans grows daily. There are more and more people facing food insecurity on a daily basis and the pending loss of support from our government will only make it worse. This is a very preventable crisis. I feel that it’s been created with an intention of cruelty. Those who have the most seem more than willing to see to it that those who have the least may soon have nothing. The hardest part of all of this is the discussions that I’ve had with other working folks. It’s as though we’ve been programmed to look at people in need as “lesser”… on the edge of inhuman. We turn our noses up at someone who requires assistance without knowing their story. I take issue with this and I’ll go on to tell you why.
Being that I came from a household that struggled, I feel the pain of those without. I take issue with people who would continue to assist in this suffering rather than step up and help. I fail to understand how people can sit idly by while other humans can’t feed their families. Can’t feed their children. I was that child. I was that poor kid whom we seem to look away from in our society. I understand how it feels to be looked at as expendable. I was born into a poor family on the wrong side of town, so my struggle is not everyone’s problem. To the “elites” of the world, the blame (obviously) falls on my own parents and their “failures”… In their eyes, it’s not society’s job to help me. If you think for a second that it doesn’t happen this way, open your eyes and look around. Ask yourself what you do to help those in need. How do you talk about people who need help from our government? Do you spew anger because they’re getting “free” things? I challenge anyone to walk in the shoes of another, especially someone who had the misfortune of growing up poor. Once you’ve stood in that spot, perhaps you can feel what I felt as a child. No child born into this world had the ability to choose their parents. Nor where they given the choice of where they’d grow up.
If this sounds angry, it’s because it comes from a place of just that: anger. I grow weary of hearing the terrible things being said about anyone who makes less money. I’m tired of hearing how they need to “pull up their boot straps” and work harder. Do you really think that anyone chooses to suffer? There are millions in this country who work hard every day. They work 2 and 3 jobs to try to make ends meet. Even with that, they find that because the game is rigged against the poor, they still can’t make it. Stop for a moment and look up the annual pay for a person making $15.00 an hour and tell me how you would even pay rent with that wage. Then add to that trying to feed yourself or a family. Don’t even get me started on healthcare. Heaven forbid that you get sick or break something working all the hours you have to. The struggle is real and the mindset about the poor needs to change.
I’ve been lucky in my life. I happened upon jobs that “took a chance” on me. They looked past my zip code and the desperation on my face. My success was not all by my own doing, part of it was just luck! My life as a teen both wrecked me and built me in to someone who would never give up. I tell my story all the time so that others will know that there are many like me. The “underbelly” of the country that is willing to go the distance to survive. I talk of the feeling of being hungry and wish it on no one. The feeling in my stomach is something that I remember very well. The look on people’s faces when we had to get “government cheese” or pay for food with food stamps. The sneer of disapproval. I remember every single event as though it were yesterday. I have the ability as an adult to remember everything that made me feel like trash. I carry it as a chip on my shoulder to this very day. This too is part of my healing process. Trying to find a way to let that restless anger find peace. There can be no peace in a world that won’t feed its inhabitants.
I ask that you take a moment and slow your judgment on others. Reach deep inside of yourself and remember to have empathy. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve referenced that word. I feel as though it’s been lost in our society, or perhaps just discarded from the dictionary. (EMPATHY the ability to understand and share the feelings of another.) If you’re in a position to help others, it should be your duty to do so. As I’ve stated, I’ve never forgotten where I came from. Not for a single second. I give to those in need. I support those who want to make a better life. I look to those who struggle and smile. I want them to know that I see them and feel their struggles. I fail to understand how anyone can look at another human being and just simply dismiss them. I suppose it’s easy when you don’t struggle yourself. Perhaps you’ve always had everything you needed in your life. If that’s the case, you’re truly blessed. I mean it when I say that. You were blessed to be born in circumstances that allowed you to flourish. Without the burden of being hungry, or homeless, forgotten.
While I struggle now with my demons, I still consider myself lucky. I don’t want for food as I did years ago. I’m able to sleep in a warm bed on cold nights. Yet I will hold on to the old feelings. They were real. I will remember the things said to me, both good and bad. I’ve formed them into a drive that rivals anyone’s. Not just to succeed in my own life, but to assist others. I want to leave this world knowing that I did everything that I truly could to love others. I’m hopeful that I can one day lay down and be at peace because I did everything to save myself and other “children of God.” Look within yourself today and ask yourself if you’ll be able to do the same. The world needs us. What will you do? I’ll end with this. Years ago I was asked by a senior manager at my workplace, “Why do you give so much to charities?” I was surprised by the question and simply said “Because it’s the right thing to do.”
Thank you so much for following along on my journey.
On a brisk fall morning I decided to get out and take a walk. What better way to clear my head and work on getting myself into better physical condition. Today I decided to venture to the place where it all began for me; Pearson Park. This park has some kind of hidden magic and we have a history together. When I’m not feeling quite right or the world seems hopeless, I seek refuge here. This was a day that I needed it.
While I’ve been struggling and working on some of my darker issues, I’ve also struggled physically. I’ve been plagued with back issues for years. They seem to want my full attention lately and that makes my life go out of balance even further. Exercise, especially my walking/running have been my go to for some 40 years now. I woke this morning and didn’t feel the serious sting in my lower back. So I got myself together and hit the road. My route would include the park that I started my journey back to health. I walked through the gates of Pearson park and felt a spiritual oneness. This was the park where I arrived in the Summer of 1985. During that time, I thought my life had no direction. I felt useless in the world. I was doing my best to break free from the underworld I’d grown accustom to. The weight of hiding my dark secret for so many years had come to roost. Experiencing relationships, and being around people that had a warm spirit had made me desire something better. I just didn’t know how to reach it.
My first steps in the park had me beginning to ponder my life. Thinking of what I’d been through. Thinking of all the wrong that I’d done. I tried my best to see a future, but what did I have to offer the world? Who would want some dried up drug runner in a legit business? I didn’t have the money for college, and I wasn’t sure that I had the desire to even go. I found as I was thinking, my pace began to quicken. It was as though each step was causing something to happen within me. I began looking around and taking in the scenery. I suddenly discovered the beauty of trees, grass, and small creatures for the first time. What was going on? Before I knew it, I’d gone around the entire 3 mile loop and was standing at my car again. I felt a little better. I felt as though the trees were listening to my thoughts and helping me to sort things out. I was so caught up in it that I decided I’d come back the next day.
My return to the park felt different this time. I started to feel like there was something more I needed to do. I started out my walk and began studying the trees on the trail. I decided to start to run from one particular tree to another. Suddenly I felt more weight lifted from my shoulders. My breathing was faster and uneven, but I felt good. Sweat began to run down my face. It was a feeling of release. With each step, each bead of sweat that rolled, my problems began to lessen. I felt a tear beginning in the corner of my eye. I can’t cry, I thought. What the hell was that about. There’s no crying in my world. Again, I returned to my car and just stood there this time. Staring at the park wondering what this connection was. I’d come here the day before thinking that if things continued on the same course, I’d be dead soon. Either by the hands of someone in the underworld, or by my own doing. Now I was standing here as though the forest was speaking to me. This went on through that Summer of 1985 and beyond. The magic that I found on those trails, and the feelings that I discovered within myself were life changing. I’d gone from hopeless to hopeful. Not just hopeful, but confident. I was driven to make it in life. I’d managed to survive everything up to this point. There had to be more.
On today’s walk, it was a celebration of 40 years of running/walking. It was a celebration of my life. I’m still here. I came back to this park today to take steps through time. To see all the things in the same fashion that I did so many years ago. To walk on those same trails and feel each bead of sweat. To make the world slow to a crawl and just let me know that everything will be alright again. I’ve always gone to the road to release my pain. To let all of the stress that life throws at you just leave your body. This park knows me. It knows all of my struggles. On this day, when the tears began to build in my eyes, I let them flow. I’ve learned that there’s no shame in letting my feelings free. To be so relieved by nature is a moving thing, and should be celebrated. To leave a part of me there years back, and then revisit again today, was moving. I stopped in the very lot that I stood in that Summer and said thank you. Thank you for helping me find my way. For sharing my life events on so many occasions. I’ve shared those very trails with everyone that I love. I shared an entire Summer in that park with my sister Gini who has passed on now. So many memories to cherish. So many good times. This park is where I met my wife Karla for the very first time. We shared a run together in a rain storm. I knew on that day that she was special. The park smiled upon us as we laughed and smiled together. I’ll tell you that we still go through the park together to this very day.
I think that it goes without saying that today has been an emotional day. Starting out with those feelings of hopelessness for the world. Wondering how life is going to turn out for us humans. Wishing for sanity to come about and for everyone to be at peace. Taking those steps through time made me understand that I’d been down that road before, and I prevailed. The road, and my park listened to my worries, my sorrows, and my prayers. I was reminded that I’m a survivor. I was told to look beyond myself and see the beauty that it had to show me. To see the Fall colors beginning. To hear the crackling of the dried leaves beneath my feet. To see the squirrels running about searching for Winter food to store. Open my eyes to all the possibilities.
I’ve told people a couple of things for 40+ years now. The first is that running saved my life. The other is that with running, all things are possible. While I don’t run so much anymore. I still go out and walk as much and as fast as I possibly can. I’ve never forgotten my old friend (Pearson Park). It holds a certain kind of magic. If you’re willing, it’ll speak to you as well. If you’re in need, seek nature. In times of feeling lost and disconnected, I find myself seeing things through the Eyes of Zombie. I just need to walk through the gates of my park. It’s there to welcome me. To remind me who I am and that everything really is possible. You just need to stop and open your eyes. To listen to the whispers in the air. Today the park showed up big for me. It reached inside of my heart and welcomed me back. Showed me everything that I’ve accomplished. Showed me so much happiness that we’ve shared over the years. For the time I spent in that park today, I’m grateful. Grateful for the bond that we share, and for the wisdom that it has shown me. Today was truly steps through time with a dear friend.
Ghosts from your past can visit you. You might imagine a transparent being floating in front of you when I make this statement. My version is a touch different. Don’t get me wrong, I feel that spirits are among us. We’ll save that for another blog though. The ghosts that I speak of are both helpful and good people. They were key to your moving through life. There are also those that were detrimental to your life and your being. I’ve blogged about ghosts in prior entries, and I felt it was a good time for a revisit.
I speak of ghosts again because I’m currently going through my darker side in counseling. It’s a topic that we’ve worked on over the years but never really took the deep dive. My counselor and I both felt that it was the right time to take that dive. I talk about how I seek peace, yet there have been times recently that have pulled me backwards. This causes me to lose footing and second guess myself. I fear my loss of control more than anything in this world.
While I’m protective by nature, I realize there’s a darkness I don’t understand about myself. I don’t seem to have an off switch. Once I’ve become fully engaged, I can’t see my way back out. It’s not uncommon for any human to have a trigger in them. It could be a protective parent looking out for their child. It might also be an older sibling watching over a younger one. Humans want to protect their own, much like animals in the wild. When we feel threatened, we want to stand up to whatever threat comes our way. It’s a very natural reaction. In times of threat, I’ve learned to position myself for both protection and maximum damage to the aggressor. While my training is helpful to navigate these types of threats, my off switch seems to be damaged. If I reach a certain level, and then lash out, I find that I’m unable to pull myself away. I need to feel that the threat has been neutralized. I was very close to this recently as I stated in my previous blog. I found myself only hearing white noise and had already started picking out points of impact. When this happens in my brain, I know I’m in trouble. This last event was only stopped by the voice in my head of my counselor. While she wasn’t standing directly next to me, I could hear her voice saying my name. She became that ghost from the present that had found a way to reach me in my time of need.
In that haze of nothingness, a single voice broke through. This was part of my last discussion with my counselor. I listen closely when she speaks to me, and I remember things that she tells me. If I wasn’t putting in the work, things on this particular day could’ve gone in a different direction. It has come time to dig deeper and work on how and why things are broken. Repair this button so that I can heal and move forward. I’m certain that I’ll deal with more ghosts from the past, as I’m sure that they’re part of this. I’ll then rely on the ghosts that have been my guiding force for finding light. I’ve referenced demons and angels in some of the scenarios as I feel they’re relevant. Evil does walk this earth…of that I’m sure. If there is evil and darkness, there must be light and good. That is what I choose to believe and will continue to seek. Seek the good and stay strong.
I found myself thinking after the last couple of encounters with darkness that I was being tested. Perhaps tested to see if I was capable of holding the line. Not giving into the surge of evil that began flowing through my veins. Was it a demon seeking me? Was this a ghost from the past trying to work its way back in? Believe what you wish, but these questions ran through my head afterwards. I had to shake my arms out afterwards because they’d become so tight. I could hardly move my hands. Shaking out whatever it was that was inside of me. I needed to find something that would bring me out of this. I try to think of good things. My wife, my dogs, the mountains, my family. Things that will help me to feel whole again.
My journey will move forward, and I remain hopeful. I’ve had a scare now and that makes me want to work even harder. My counselor has suggested that we do some more EMDR. (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) The easiest way for me to describe this is it feels like time travel. You move through events but more like a passenger on a train looking out the window. That’s how it felt to me anyway. It can be draining. This process helps you to look at things that need processing. These may have been events stuffed down. I’m sure that there will be ghosts waiting…but I’m ready to face it. I need this.
It’s always good for me to do these blogs. I’m curious what the readers feel when they go through them. Does it trigger things in your own life? Do you have these same feelings, or perhaps have concerns that you too could lose control one day? I’m just sharing parts of my life that may or may not be relevant in yours. Today, I’m pretty good. I always try to remember to start each day fresh and not hold onto yesterday’s messes. The next step is to clean up the past stories where ghosts still reside. Once I get that done, I can bask in the light.
Taking the journey through my past can be stressful. I don’t want everyone to think that my life is totally miserable. Has it been hard, yes. There have been life lasting events that have caused damage. I try to explain to people all the time that I just view the world differently. When you’ve grown up in environments that are less than pleasant, that can happen. I feel joy, excitement, and even love just like all of you. I want others to understand my perspective. People who are broken can still function. There are still more good days than bad. I’ll touch on some of the struggles of late and my battle to get back to center.
I’ve touched on this in other blogs. I don’t look for pity. I certainly don’t want people to attempt to fix me. I simply want to bring awareness to the masses that terrible things can happen to all people. Some of these things can cause you to never fully recover. Sometimes there’s such damage that a person can give up. Search for ways to kill the pain that they carry. Worse yet, they could leave this earth by their own doing. I’ve traveled down these roads. Pain and loneliness can be so consuming that you just want a way to make it stop.
I still remember vividly walking the park and wondering where my life was going. I felt disconnected from the world. I couldn’t picture a future and needed “something.” For me the answer came in the form of running. It was the beginning of something. Something that I’d never felt before. I felt confident, and strong. Each step became a new beginning, an awakening. I began to see things differently. I didn’t feel so hopeless. June of 1985 is when I came alive.
Having tools like running and weight training have been good to me, and for me. I’ve learned the discipline of my body. I’ve learned how to take better care of both my mind and body. It didn’t take all of my pain away, but it turned on a light in a very dark tunnel. I think back to the days before discovering these activities. What a contrast they are to now. When I struggle, I seek my tools to help myself. I look to my running, now walking, and my weight training. I sit here at my computer and write. Writing has been the second greatest gift behind my running. I finally feel that I have somewhere to go that I can unload my thoughts. Running helps me to process things, but writing helps me dump them all out.
If you’ve been following me then you understand how I go back and forth. I have stretches where I’m more about getting things out and feeling the light. Then with darker moments I see all that is wrong in the world. As much as I want to, I can’t look away. I then begin to feel that I’m in a weaker state and things kind of crumble. It’s those demons again. They just seem to come for me. They appear in many different forms. Lately, it’s been through my work place. I’ve encountered people in the traveling public that are so beyond toxic that I can barely refrain from lashing out. While I won’t disclose the entire altercations. I had two, back to back where the people were so hostile, I felt that violence was inevitable. Loud, angry and threatening. None of these things are new to me and in most cases I see through them. One of these people seemed to know every one of my internal buttons and was pressing them. I have issues with people getting too close to me. This person came so close that I had to push him back three times, giving warning each time. He was yelling directly into my face while still approaching. He spoke in a foreign language, so that complicated my processing as well. I finally reached a breaking point internally. All I could hear in my head was white noise. I’d gone into defense mode and knew where it could go next. I’m grateful that I can recognize these breaks. I came at this guy with the same energy he was using. I needed to get him to step back into his vehicle. It’s my belief that when was faced with my rage, he finally backed down. I shared this event with my sister today. I explained that I was mentally standing right on the edge with this guy. We’d reached an impasse.
The following morning I was confronted yet again. This time by a couple. I was shocked that I was right back where I had left off on the previous day. What was going on in my universe? How did these people find me? They too managed to hit the buttons that I keep hidden away? I’m surprised that so many feel that they can say whatever vile crap they wish to another. I see the world differently. The world that I came from doesn’t allow for that level of disrespect. If you step up on someone, you better be ready for whatever might come your way. You never underestimate another. Don’t look at someone doing their job and think that it’s alright to take a shit on them. The saying; “be kind because you don’t know what someone is going through.” I’d take it a step further. You should be kind because you don’t know what’s lurking inside of another. Some of us carry things you really don’t want to see. Don’t invite trouble to your doorstep.
I’m grateful to have a day or so to get my thoughts back in order. I have counseling this week and plan on adding these events to the discussion. I’ve not felt that much rage in a long time. It’s the part of me that I’m the most frightened of. The side that was created to protect the child in me. The one that will harm anyone or anything if threatened. It’s so ugly and I’m ashamed for having these kind of feelings. I’m holding fast to the idea of cooler temperatures, fall skies and my walks. I’ll lean into the things that I know can bring me back to center again.
I know that my cousin reads my blogs and we’ve discussed heaven and hell. The fight between good and evil on this earth. This past weekend made me think more on that battle with darkness. I felt like I was being tested. I passed the test, but I feel the wounds that were inflicted. I felt the darkness creeping up through my veins. My dark side still lurks. I have more work to do…because my story is not over.
The continuing saga of life. While my story is still writing itself, I prefer the current chapters most. The earlier chapters were plagued with trauma and confusion. I still look at myself as one of the lucky ones. Through everything, I held onto a belief that I could/would someday be whole. That I deserved better and to strive for it. It doesn’t mean that other people were lesser. Some who were in a similar life situation simply chose different routes. There were some who enjoyed the world that they found themselves in and continued down that path. Chaos and control has its own level of comfort.
I’ve begun working on my darker side. My counselor and I have started to explore why I do some of the “same old things” I’ve always done. Why I still walk the streets that I grew up on. Why I lack the ability to fear others. Why I project a force of darkness. This is an area of exploration that is puzzling to me. I’ve grown older and I’d like to believe wiser along the way. I know that there’s nothing good waiting for me in some of the areas that I go through. During our previous conversation, my counselor explained the risks. A good deal of the places I wander are filled with extreme danger. She stated that she didn’t want me to get shot, and that I needed to consider Karla. She’s right. I know that she is, but I stayed away for less than a week from roaming where I felt “comfort.”
Trying to explain why I feel comfort in such terrible areas sounds “crazy.” For years I was trained not to feel anything. I don’t look at the danger or risks the same way that others do. When I walk, I assess risks. I take in everything around me and process it. I know where danger resides and I always feel that I have a way to counter it. I was asked recently if I feared being shot. My response was “I don’t want it to happen.” I’ve been threatened with guns before, and again, felt nothing.
I explained during my last session that I also feel that. If I stop walking in these areas, I’ll lose my “edge.” So, just by me saying that, it implies that I’m unwilling to let go. While I seek peace and desire better in my life, I still hold onto my darkness. Life in a split screen if you will. I desire the suburbs yet find them boring. I also don’t feel like I fit in. It’s a strange place to be in at this point in my life. Trying to find ways to calm the beast and still be good is the balance.
This writing comes on the heels of a wonderful getaway with my wife. We traveled to some beautiful parts of the country and explored. We met new people and dogs! That made the trip even better. Seeing the beauty that the world has to offer tends to calm me. Being close to my wife and sharing in the time made it even better. We celebrated 19 years of marriage, another year of me still walking this earth and just being alive. I’m still dumbfounded that I’m still here. I actually had time to just lay flat on the beach and watch the clouds. I’ve not done that in so long, it was amazing. Watching small children play in the sand, birds working hard to get goodies from the edge of the ocean. These things make my restlessness slow. We took walks around the neighborhoods and once again, my sharp edge came back to life. Watching for predators. Walking into the small beach town and being close to places that had live bands and alcohol made me uneasy. My distrust for drunks runs deep. Everything in me tightens and my “bring it on” face appears.
I’ve done well for long stretches. I’m much more aware of my feelings now. I try to remember what exactly makes me uneasy and then link it. If I react out of a trauma response, I try to assess why. I do my best now to understand feelings in my body as well. The mind-body connection is so valid. When I become hyper vigilant, my breathing changes, stomach tightens and my jaws clench. It’s as though I’m preparing for a battle. The same things happen during therapy. If we discuss something that is upsetting, I get so “revved” up. My counselor is good about pointing all of these things out so that we can discuss them. The more aware I become, the better things will be.
Life will continue to ebb and flow. I can say that I’m happy to have made it this far. I’m thankful for all that I have, and for all who are around me. My support system is vast and unwavering. That is key to my success going forward. When I think of those who didn’t find this path, or choose it. I don’t judge because I know that part of my success has been love. I have people in my life who love me and always will. Not all can say that.
I’ve added the newest tattoo to my ever growing collection. It’s a semicolon. This represents “a symbol of strength, resilience and hope in the face of mental health struggles.” It resides close to my “Survivor” tattoo. I’m letting the world know that my story is not over yet. Perhaps I’m letting myself know that my story is not over yet. I’ve struggled, I’ve fallen down, I’ve seen too much in life, and I still choose to be here. I share my struggles to find the answers that I seek. I also hope to help others do the same. We can all continue our stories in spite of our challenges.
Counseling session was yesterday. The day was busy and trying to get everything squared away threw me off a bit. I ran late getting to the appointment, which is not like me at all. Racing in, kicking my shoes off and finding my comfort spot on the couch had to come quick. I’d been looking forward to this discussion with my counselor. I’ve had sleep problems and had the past come to visit me. I needed to find comfort and guidance.
I felt as though I was just throwing words all over the place in no apparent order. I kept apologizing for jumping around with my thoughts, struggling for the right words. Amy knows me well and can tell when I’m restless. On this day it was so obvious. I couldn’t sit still, pulling on my limbs, rubbing on my foot. The agitation that festered in me was seeping through. She asked hard questions, but I’m used to that. At times I felt guarded, even though I’m so comfortable with her. She wanted to know more about my dark side.
My fear has been and continues to be that the darkness will take over. I fear the loss of control – of coldness, uncaring, vindictive, and angry feelings. I carry these things with me. I take no pride in them, but they’re a part of me. The discussion brought us back to why I still walk the streets where I grew up. I never seem to have a clear answer to it. I always say that I feel a level of comfort there. I don’t fear anything, although I probably should. I know that evil lurks around almost every corner of these streets. There are always eyes upon you, examining, watching and assessing you. I know this because I did much the same. “Outsiders” are not welcome. This can be said in almost any neighborhood.
I was asked if I was in a more prominent neighborhood would I feel welcome or out of place. I’d feel out of place and unwelcome. These feelings come from years of being looked upon as garbage, or of lesser value. Being poor in America can feel like a crime all on its own. When you wear second-hand clothes, or have to walk everywhere. Perhaps you ride the bus or share a bedroom with siblings because it’s the only space you have. These kinds of things don’t make you “suitable” in some areas. I admit that I have a chip on my shoulder. I take issue with those who look down on people who struggle. I think it shows on my face, or at least I’ve been told. People have told me that when they see me walking they think I look different. I look intimidating and unapproachable. I think Amy described it well. She said I have a “bring it on” attitude. She’s right, and in having this I put myself at risk. So, why do I continue to do this? Why do I continue to walk these streets?
The next meetings are going to be more about digging into this darkness. It’s an uncomfortable topic. It always makes me think of a writing by Friedrick Nietzsche. “If you stare at the Abyss long enough, it stares back at you.” His writing is thought provoking, yet skewed. The concept of looking into the darkness that resides within is both terrifying and intriguing. The journey into said place will be draining I’m sure. I’ve stated numerous times that I have problems looking into the mirror because I don’t care for what I see. This would be the next level. Not only looking at myself in a mirror, but truly looking at myself on the inside. Mysteries are there to hopefully be solved. I’ll accept the challenge and work to move forward. I have to believe that there’s better on the other side.
I’d like to take this time to remind everyone that September is National Suicide Prevention month. There are so many who struggle with things that even I can’t comprehend. Take some time to look out for others. Step into a space that might be uncomfortable. Observe those who have reached a point of brokenness where they see no other avenue but to leave this earth. This is part of the reason that I continue to write. If you’re out there and struggling, I see you. I want you to know that you can make it another day. “One day at a time.” We are all humans and have value.
National mental health crisis hotline is 800-273-TALK (8255) or you can simply dial “988” for the Suicide and Crisis lifeline.
The zombie file 