Witnessing Life: Reflections on Growth and Healing

I come to my blog as a way to both shed things and find myself. There are days that I feel as though I’m shedding a skin. A worn, dried and wrinkled skin that has slowed me over the years. So many things that I’ve overcome, so many feelings that I’ve worked my way through, and yet I still wander. My wandering has more purpose to it now. I seek truth, happiness, peace, and balance. All the things that we require as humans to make it through this world intact.

I think by now everyone is aware that I go outside and walk for hours at a time. The route can change based on how I’m feeling, time set aside, and of course how my body is doing. My favorite of all my routes is one that takes me back through all of the old neighborhoods. Even the areas that I spent my younger life doing all of the lawless things. It’s familiar, and with familiarity comes comfort. I’ve said before that I fear nothing and no one. Walking these areas feels no different than walking around my own neighborhood now. I know the things to look for, I know how to posture myself, I’ve mastered the skills years ago. I’m looked upon not so much as an outsider, but one of them.

These streets, how they speak to me as I move. The route never feels the same. Each time I go there’s something more to see, hear and feel. I take all of it in. On the days when I struggle a bit more, this route can be a little taxing. My vision becomes focused on things that I really don’t want to see. Yet, something in me makes me look anyway. In so many of my blogs I refer to my time out wandering as being a witness. Witnessing the beauty that the world has to offer as well as the darkness that so many choose to ignore. I feel one with all of it now. I seemed to have developed a gypsy spirit. Wandering is something that I feel is necessary for me to do. I want to see as much as possible while I’m still breathing. It doesn’t take much to convince me into walking out the door and getting lost. You just have to say the word and I’m there.

Comfort is where you find it. I’m sure we all have certain things that put us at ease. Things that make us comfortable. Reading a good book, surfing social media, sharing wine with a friend. All the many different things that make us unique. I find that my time spent writing is very relaxing. Enjoying music in the background while doing anything is key to my comfort. I live and breathe music. I also find that my dogs are satisfying to my heart and soul. They give me so much love. The look that I receive when I walk through the door is unmatched by any human. If I step outside to get the mail, two sets of eyes will gaze at me when I return. Their tails will be wagging. They have a look of satisfaction because I’m there. I won’t lie when I tell you that I sing to my dogs while petting them. It’s a freeze frame moment. They stop and just stare at me in such a deep fashion. You just know that you’re loved unconditionally. I highly recommend a dog in your life, especially if you struggle with any form of mental illness. “A home is only complete when it has a dog in it.” At least that’s how I see it.

I’ve been spending more time working on pages in my book. This in turn makes me want to then blog more. I’m sure that some of you have noticed I’ve been shooting them out left and right. Some of it has to do with feelings that have crept up during the writing process. If I feel that I’ve gotten too deep in what I’m writing in the book. This blog helps to settle me and bring back the calmness. I’ve been working on portions that have to do with some very toxic relationships. I blogged about some of that earlier this week. Women that have had serious anger issues. One of them was a serious stalker. Then of course there were the alcoholics. The writing process is such that I feel like I’m going back through all of this. Feelings came forward that were so intense I had to get up, walk around the the house and pet my dogs. It was as though I was still living in these moments. Trying to keep it separated from your current reality can be tough. I’m sure you can all relate in some fashion. We’ve all had some kind of relationship that caused us damage. If you think of that person now, what does it make you feel? I wear my Garmin and can actually watch my heart rate jump. When I was typing about the stalker, it spiked!

I enjoy sharing all of this with the world now. Funny how I’ve spent so much in my life hiding everything away, and for what? For fear of being judged? People judge you no matter what you do in life. I prefer this new and more open version of myself. I also like having a platform. It allows me to reach others who might suffer in the same way that I have. I’ve had some great conversation from things I’ve blogged about. I’ve also had great conversations that have sparked feelings that in turn prompted me to write. It’s safe to say that writing for me is the ultimate in comfort.

While I had a small set back this week. I feel good today. I’m better equipped to handle stresses now. My counselor has taught me much and given me the tools I need to flourish in my life. I see things differently now. I’ve read back through some of my earlier blogs and can actually see the growth. I see some hope now where all I could see before was sadness. I think that once I’m able to get through this book writing I’ll feel clean. When I write my final page I can look down and smile. I’ll know that what I have then is my life lived. All of my sadness, anger, cruelty, brokenness, and deceit are balanced. They are balanced with all of the desire, hope, understanding, guidance, patience, and love.

I’m only one person on a giant planet full of many people. While I’m only one, my story is unique. It’s one that needed to be told. The events required witnesses. That’s where you all step in. You’re a witness to all of this. I appreciate that I have all of you to read what I have. To walk the streets with me and see everything that I see. Whether it’s through my eyes or the eyes of Zombie. We’ll move forward together.

Thank you for following along on my journey.

~Robert~

I’m compelled to write

I never thought of myself as much of a writer. This all came about by chance, and some motivation provided by my cousin Marilyn who had already been doing her own blogging. I fell into the world of blogging by deciding one year to raise money for Mobile Meals of Toledo.

My wife had been a long time volunteer who delivered meals to folks who were in need of regular healthy meals but struggled to get this done on their own. I went along with my wife a few times to assist and quickly understood why she was doing this and that this was an amazing organization! They’re great people working on a very tight budget, trying to make sure the most vulnerable would be fed, regardless of income. This touched my soul as I remember as a child what it felt like to be hungry, and longed for regular home cooked meals. I decided I had to do something. I had to find a way to bring attention to Mobile Meals and assist in getting them more funds to keep doing their great work, but what? What could I do?

Being a long time road runner, I decided to challenge myself to run 30 races in a single year. Why 30? Well, it was to celebrate my 30th year of running. I wanted to take something that had saved me personally and turn it into a year long charity event! All the proceeds, donations from everything that I did would be given directly to Mobile Meals of Toledo. So, we got with the folks at Mobile Meals and I pitched my idea. They were all in! I needed to broaden my social medial footprint and perhaps start a blog. The blogging seemed kind of odd to me and I was never very good at talking about myself. Things needed to change so that I could make this a success.

2015 was the year that I took on this challenge and found myself having one of the best running years of my life! The reason it was so great? Because the running was not all about me. It was for others. I felt all of the people that were in need and it just made me run more, faster, happier! I began to sit in front of the computer and try to describe all the details of my races, how I was feeling, how far I had run, where I had traveled to, everything. Each blog entry seemed to get a little easier. I felt at home at the keyboard. I found that I suddenly enjoyed being a story teller and sharing these details began to inspire others. Some would show up at the races and cheer for me, while others would read my blogs and begin their own fitness journey. Positive strives were beginning to happen on all fronts. This was amazing!

My love for running was just easy for me to talk about. It was my home and my comfort zone. I love to tell people about running in different races, the sights that I’d seen along the way, the people cheering, the sounds and smells. It was just a year that I’ll never forget. I will tell you that I did finish all 30 races that I set out to run that year. Some of my best times ever also came during that stretch. Most importantly, I was able to raise thousands of dollars for Mobile Meals of Toledo and that was the greatest part of it all.

I stayed with the blogging after the that year faded. I began looking for other ways to help groups with my running. After awhile, the body started to be uncooperative and I wasn’t sure that I could keep putting myself through so many races. Interest in charities started to fade out a little as well. So, rather than fade away into obscurity, I chose to just stop for awhile and take a break. The call of my blog would remain this constant voice, beckoning me to sit down and do something again.

I truly love to write now. The subjects nowadays have been both positive/uplifting, and dark. I write about my mental health, and the struggles I’ve encountered throughout my life. I also have more plans to write about my vision or feelings of the world as a whole. Life as seen through the eyes of Zombie. For anyone that’s not aware, I’m Zombie. The name I’ve carried now for many a year. Earned by lack of sleep due to odd working hours, night terrors, reoccurring dreams, and fear of what might happen if I close my eyes. These hazel eyes have seen much and now it’s time to share how they view everything.

The idea of writing a book has crossed my mind and I’ve started throwing some things on here, saved for another day. I write mostly by my mood, what I’m feeling, or just something that catches one of my senses. I can hear something, perhaps Spring time birds, or smell a food. The sound of music is always the closest to my soul and can bring about so much. That’s actually what sat me down here tonight, music.

At this point in my life I feel like I have so much to say and not enough time to say it all. I’m unsure why I feel like this, but I’m driven, and inspired. I pour my feelings out onto this keyboard in hopes that it touches someone, anyone. I write for myself, but also for others. Maybe my feelings of never being heard throughout my life are what make me sit here. I feel as though I actually have an audience that hears me. Feels some of the things that I feel and for a moment, we connect.

Writing has become therapy. It helps to unload some of the heavy weight that I’ve carried for far too long. It seems to smooth out the rough edges, and helps me to breathe. I’ve wondered before why this didn’t come about earlier, why now. I feel that it’s my time now, it’s just that simple. I wasn’t in the right space to open up and put things down on paper, or computer screen. I’d locked so much away that now seems to be shaking loose. I’m compelled to write. Compelled to say the things that just maybe make someone smile, or even cry. I tell my sister often that when I sit here and type my blogs, if I cry at the end, I know it’s good. True story.

I’ll keep writing until I feel that all the dark corners are cleared out. I’ll keep writing until I feel that my heart is full. I will keep writing because I’m compelled to do so. I want you all to share this journey with me. There is oh so much more to come! So, sit back, grab your phone, or get in front of your computer, and get ready to view life through the eyes of Zombie.

Thank you so very much for reading.

~Zombie~

You are enough, your voice matters

You are enough. Your voice matters. This is something that I need to remind myself on a daily basis. I’ve found myself in kind of an old familiar place of late. Numerous events in my life brought about feelings of old, and along with those feelings, the desire to handle events in a darker fashion. The world that I grew up in was just that way. There is a certain “comfort” to maintaining a way of doing things. Routines are comfortable for most of us. The problem with this particular routine is that it’s not healthy, nor is it good for my future.

Photo by Philippe Donn on Pexels.com

Lately it’s been the “Perfect Storm” for me. A combination of work stresses, dealings with contractors, and the arrival of an unwelcome person outside of my core “family” members all seemed to show up at the same time. I’ve worked long and hard to handle all of these kinds of situations, but suddenly found myself drowning in self-doubt, anxiety, and worst of all, hostility. Hostility in my mind turns to violence. That has been my comfort zone for a good part of my life. No, this is not a thing that I’m proud of, it’s just a fact and a part of who I am. If someone wronged me, they were handled. It seemed clean and quiet. I had no feelings for the other person(s) involved. It was business.

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At this point in my life, I’ve grown much and, again, work hard to see things from a different perspective. I surround myself with more positive people, remind myself of everything that is good in my life and do the best I can to be a good human. Everything seemed to be going along almost as if I was on cruise control. Work life, home life – I was good. Then the beginning of the storm came.

Work stress. We all have it. Some things seem simple enough and I truly believe in going in, doing my job and leaving. I want nothing more. I do however believe that if you show up at work, you work. This standard is for everyone involved from the very top to the last person on the list. When that doesn’t happen, it doesn’t sit well with me. I’ll leave that there.

Contractors. We recently had a large company send out a team to mark up everyone’s yards in our neighborhood so that they could prepare to put new wires underground. The lead up to it was less than coordinated. One day we had like 30 trucks just converge on our streets and guys going all over spray painting everyone’s grass and throwing flags down. Most of the workers were reluctant to give information as to what they were setting up for, so it made everyone in the neighborhood a touch edgy. It turns out they were the first part of several groups that would come into the area to begin a project of burying cables underground. Once the spray painting was completed, the next group arrived with shovels and machinery. Now I was getting nervous. By the second day, there was a group in my backyard digging 3 holes that were up to their shoulders deep. O.K., now I’m ready to flip out! I asked the guys digging what was going on and none of them spoke English. I’m pretty handy with my Google translator, but didn’t have my phone on me and to be honest, I was too worked up to even think of it. I finally found what appeared to be a supervisor. I began asking questions as to why they were digging up my yard and why I wasn’t advised. This conversation went south in a hurry. He was dismissive, rude and mildly confrontational. (Here comes the old me!) In a quiet voice, I explained that no one steps foot onto my property without some form of invitation, period. I won’t go into everything that was said, (legal reasons) but when I was through, he never came close to my home again. I contacted the city after this episode and was told it was AT&T putting new cables in and they had easement rights. The layout of my neighborhood was sent to me and basically my entire backyard is an easement! This is where the feelings of being voided out, looked past, ignored, all of it come rushing to the surface. I was on fire, an out of control fire! It became so bad that I couldn’t talk, and if I did it was to mutter a few incoherent words or cussing. I needed help and fast!

On the same day that this was all happening, my wife shared that a “relative” was coming into town. This particular individual sets off pretty much every sensor that I have. He reeks of people I’ve seen and dealt with for the better part of my life, and I wasn’t ready for this. Not now, not with everything happening.

I have a very protective nature towards people in my circle. I look at them as though they’re an extension of myself. If I feel that someone in this circle is at risk, I want to eliminate the risk, quickly and quietly. This “relative” was definitely on my radar and, in my mind, viewed as a threat. I had several discussions with other family members and stated my concerns and asked that we all band together to maintain a frontline of protection for those I felt could be harmed. By this time I was just reeling. I’d reached a point that I was in full shut down for fear I was going to lose control. I had to reach out and ask for help. I needed to get things back under control and find out how this happened to me.

I was able to get in to see my counselor and it was decided that the overwhelming number of “triggers” hit me at the same time. “The Perfect Storm”. The bigger question was where did all of this anger come from? What is it within me that was causing so much damage? That is the big question, for which at the time of this writing, I don’t have an answer. More digging into my stored memories/events will surely bring about the reasons for this happening. I’m always a little nervous looking back on things. There are some memories that you don’t want to revisit. Painful things that have formed me into who I am. I just keep telling myself that I’m worth it, I want feel good again.

“You are enough, your voice matters”. It’s important to me to hold this. It’s important to all of us to feel like we’re enough and that our voice matters. Often times we can be dismissed by even the closest people to us. Maybe not intentionally, but it can happen. If you carry things or harbor darkness, it can turn into something even uglier, quickly. Trust me on this.

My counselor knows me well and how to deal with me when I’m hypervigilant. The most calming thing that she said was, “Robert, look at me, you are going to be alright”. I believe her because she’s helped me get there before. I am enough and my voice matters.

I stated before that not all of my blog postings would be warm and fuzzy. Life is messy, and some of us out there carry things that at times are just too heavy. It’s alright to say that. It’s alright to reach out to someone and say “I need help. I can’t do this by myself”. Isolation, while it may seem like a good response for these kind of events, is totally the wrong answer. I’ll quote a good friend here, “Stay out of your head, it’s a bad neighborhood.” True story. Some neighborhoods are so bad we need to be guided through them, and that too is alright.

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If you suffer from any kind of trauma, or have “unkept” items rolling around inside of you. Do me a favor, reach out, ask for help. Seek the assistance from someone that has the knowledge and wisdom to guide you through that bad neighborhood. It will work out better in the end. I know, I’ve been to that dark edge and it’s not a good place to be. Remember, You are enough, your voice matters.

I’ll see you on the road…

~Zombie~