Have you ever had a day when you woke up and you just felt mean? Perhaps you climbed out of bed and began wondering why you ever climbed out in the first place. Sometimes, just laying in bed sounds better. It feels more appealing than getting up and facing the world, even if you’re not sleeping. I’m having that kind of day. There’s nothing really wrong. I wrote last night which usually makes me feel pretty good. No one has openly tried to offend me. I just feel raw, unavailable, and a touch mean.

This is something I need to share. I believe that it’s relevant in all of our lives. People that struggle with depression have days where they don’t have the power to get out of bed. Some might climb out, but then crawl back in when they feel no one is watching. The energy that it takes at times feels insurmountable. I’m pretty good at willing myself out of bed, but the haze of darkness tends to follow me. I draw energy from deep within myself to get out and do things. My choice of activity for today was weight training. The feel of “heavy shit” being moved with aggression can be comforting. I chose to wear a headset today, which is normally not my thing. Today I felt differently though. I wanted to be closed off with my music and my dark feelings. I know that my counselor and I have talked about these feelings before. Rather than fighting against them, I’ve shifted into more of a welcoming mode. I let them flow as they need to. I’m not lashing out at others, or acting in a threatening manner. I’m just letting the feelings run their course.

The next order of business for me is to write. Whenever I’m like this, writing is the best thing for me. It’s cleansing just to put these words down. It’s all part of my new process that helps me to be better throughout my day. It also gives me hope that I’ll get through this phase quicker and enjoy myself as the day goes on. If not today, then tomorrow. There are no rules for any of this, I just let things go and see where it leads. I’ve found in the past that I can be the most creative when I’m in these moods. I was sharing with a friend recently that I’ve also written poetry when I’m full of darkness. I may find my way back to that again soon. I think the best way I can describe it is that I’m hypersensitive. So full of emotion that I could almost burst. There have been times that I just sat and cried. It’s very cleansing for your system. If you’ve ever been afraid or embarrassed to let go like that, don’t be. It’s good for your mind and your body. The release can be exactly what you need to move forward.

Let us not forget music. For gym purposes it’s the hardest possible music I can muster. Today it was White Zombie/Rob Zombie. Heart pumping, blood surging music that makes you so focused on your task. Once I finished with my weight training session, I moved to stretching and changed up the music to reflect this. My music is always purposeful. I switch it up with my ever changing moods. I’m currently listening to George Michael while I’m writing this. His music is a favorite to listen to while writing. Calming, deep, moving, and beautifully orchestrated. It’s safe to say that I have no idea where I’d be in this world without my music. It’s been my guide and my rescue on so many occasions. If you are feeling anything, there’s a song to match it.

Writing about this is helping me and hopefully it can be comforting to others. I know that “the struggle is real.” Dealing with everyday life, especially in this day and age can take everything we have. If you find yourself in that place of darkness, and you’re unwilling to take the first step, reflect back on this blog. Take the first step and do what you feel is best for you to keep moving. It doesn’t mean that you have to go out and run a marathon. It also doesn’t mean that you have to go out in public and have long discussions with other humans. It simply means that what you’re feeling is alright. That with time it will pass. Embrace the feelings and let them flow, gently through you. If you need someone to help you walk through this, make that call. If you just need to be with some music or a good book, do that. I just don’t want you to look at yourself like I’ve done in the past. Like I’m a monster and have no business walking among humans. We’re all uniquely screwed up. Rather than pushing it away, bring it closer and celebrate it. I use the term a lot and will continue to because it’s so perfect. We are all “Beautifully Broken.”

Thanks for following along on my journey.

~Robert~

The topic I’d like to get into today is self-isolation. I’ve had so many discussions with people about how they feel toward other humans. “I really hate people.” “I don’t want any people today.” There’s always the classic, “People suck.” There’s a great deal of sadness that come into me when I hear these words, or worse, hear myself saying them. It takes me back in time. I feel the isolation that I put myself in for some 40 years of my life. I still had relationships, went to work, did things. I just wasn’t being truthful about who I was, and what I struggled with. I closed off that section to everyone. At that time, it was as though you approached a room with a “do not disturb’ sign attached to the door handle. I didn’t want you to enter. I didn’t want to be with people.

“My own Prison” Of course I’ll attach this to a song because with my isolation I leaned heavily on music to keep some form of sanity. “My own Prison” was another song that resonated with me. The lyrics were powerful, heavy and had meaning that I could feel. I felt unworthy, broken and dirty. I’d reached a point where I wished every day that someone would be able to figure me out. That they’d see beyond the mask I wore. Self isolation is a prison. “Nothing in this world can torment you as much as your own thoughts.” I knew this to be true but kept things hidden anyway. What could anyone possibly have to offer that would make things better? You reach a point where you become unwilling to even entertain the idea that you can be helped. It’s a perpetual cycle. Like a rat on a wheel you keep processing things in your head and – surprise – getting the same conclusions.

This is my way of trying to warn others that isolation is not the answer. Trying to step away from or out of life will cure nothing. Leaving the living to become the un-dead is not what you might think it is. I’d use adjectives like loneliness, sadness, depression, and painful to describe what comes with self-isolation. It’s hard for me to understand why someone would try so hard to remove themselves when I’ve been working so hard to come out of the very thing they’re seeking. I hated all of it. The day that I truly realized I was trapped in my prison, it was as though a part of me died. The fun, caring youthful kid became something else. Something much darker. If I had the talent to draw my feelings, what I see in my mind is a child sitting at the bottom of a well, or some other form of darkness… Looking upwards towards the light. While it’s visible to his eyes, it’s as though it’s a million miles away and not obtainable. Love and light are just too far away, and there’s no one with a rope long enough to pull me out.

I spend some time alone nowadays but I choose being with those that I love far more. I’ve learned to be good with who I am now. Because I’m open about my life, it doesn’t feel the same. I go places and make myself be open and present in the moment. I actively listen to others, even strangers, who just want a moment to share whatever it is they feel the need to share. I say all the time that “everyone wants to be heard.” It’s very true…myself included. Not all people suck. I’ve seen the worst of them out there and can tell you that the good ones far exceed the bad. If you close yourself off to everyone, you’ll miss out on the opportunity to find the good. If you see everyone as harmful, you’ll never really feel life.

I know I’m throwing a lot out there today but I’ve had my own struggles of late. An altercation at my gym, a small meltdown at a crowded restaurant while on a weekend getaway with my wife. These things do happen and rather than just shut myself all the way down, I’ve been owning my feelings and taking steps to correct my actions. I’ve reached out to my counselor because of these types of moments in time. I want to see if there’s something still sitting below the surface in me that I need to work on. Both of my events were very hard for me to process. I didn’t want to resort to violence with the guy at the gym, but felt my “space” being taken over. I felt unsafe and threatened and when that happens bad things usually follow. I should’ve just walked away.

I want so much to part part of this world. I feel as though I’m on borrowed time and need to hurry. I missed so much by locking myself away. Don’t make the same mistakes that I have. Don’t step away, bring yourself all in. You don’t want to be sitting in the bottom of that well looking up and praying for help. Don’t design your own prison. Break free and live.

I’ve attached the lyrics to the song “My own prison” by the band Creed. It’s one of many songs that has touched me.

Thank you so much for following along on my journey.

~Robert~

A court is in session, a verdict is in
No appeal on the docket today
Just my own sin
The walls are cold and pale
The cage made of steel
Screams fill the room
Alone I drop and kneel
Silence now the sound
My breath the only motion around
Demons cluttering around
My face showing no emotion
Shackled by my sentence
Expecting no return
Here there is no penance
My skin begins to burn

(And I said oh) So I held my head up high
Hiding hate that burns inside
Which only fuels their selfish pride
(And I said oh) We’re all held captive
Out from the sun
A sun that shines on only some
We the meek are all in one

I hear a thunder in the distance
See a vision of a cross
I feel the pain that was given
On that sad day of loss
A lion roars in the darkness
Only he holds the key
A light to free me from my burden
And grant me life eternally

Should have been dead
On a Sunday morning
Banging my head
No time for mourning
Ain’t got no time

(And I said oh) So I held my head up high
Hiding hate that burns inside
Which only fuels their selfish pride
(And I said oh) We’re all held captive
Out from the sun
A sun that shines on only some
We the meek are all in one

I cry out to God
Seeking only his decision
Gabriel stands and confirms
I’ve created my own prison
I cry out to God
Seeking only his decision
Gabriel stands and confirms
I’ve created my own prison

(And I said oh) So I held my head up high
Hiding hate that burns inside
Which only fuels their selfish pride
(And I said oh) We’re all held captive
Out from the sun
A sun that shines on only some
We the meek are all in one

(And I said oh) So I held my head up high
Hiding hate that burns inside
Which only fuels their selfish pride
(And I said oh) We’re all held captive
Out from the sun
A sun that shines on only some
We the meek are all in one

Should’ve been dead on a Sunday morning
banging my head
No time for mourning
Ain’t got no time

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.

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.

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~

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~