I’m sure that there are more than a few of you out there who are familiar with the term “stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about.” This was a popular phrase used during the years I was growing up. Subtle threats of violence were used in order to gain control of children. “If I stop this car you’re going to be sorry.” While we can read these now and perhaps snicker, there is something to this that begs for attention. Crying is defined as “the shedding of tears, weeping.” Depending on your situation, there’s often much more behind the tears, or weeping. I’ll explore this and share my view.
I was raised to keep emotions in check. The phrase “stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about” was more than just a phrase to me, it was reality. While my father was not one for beating kids, he had other tactics that could dig in deeper. He spoke in such a fashion that fear cut straight through your heart. You truly felt that if you uttered so much as another peep, terrible things would be unleashed upon you at any given moment. I learned to be silent. I was trained to control tears much the same way that he did when he was growing up. There was literally just a handful of times that I saw my father actually cry. He even remained a stone wall when family members passed away. He was meant to be strong, and tears were a sign of weakness to him. This too was passed on to me: Tears are for the weak. Show nothing. Feel nothing.
This made things easy when transitioning from my father’s grasp to that of a drug czar. “There are no friends in the business” along with “never trust anyone” were carryovers from the days of no crying. I never shed a tear for anyone while doing my “job” in the drug world. I felt nothing for anyone, and if I did see someone crying, it only hardened me further. In my head, they were weak and should be brushed aside. That was my reality.
Years later, once I stepped into the room with my counselor and started to explore all of the events of the past, I felt myself welling up, wanting to cry. I’d immediately stop talking and get angry because I was spilling these tears of “weakness.” I was doing so in front of another human which made it even worse because now I was vulnerable. I’d find myself trying to hide the tears, or quickly wiping them from my cheek as if they never existed. Amy would ask me why I was getting upset about crying. I’d explain that it showed my weakness, I didn’t want anyone to see that side of me. I was trained this way, and carried it through my adult life that tears were a bad thing. Occasionally I’d have moments in the shower where I’d just let everything leak out without any witnesses. Or perhaps late at night when my wife had gone to bed, I’d hide my eyes in my recliner and weep. I would sob – a thing that I wasn’t “supposed” to do.
Let me say now that this way of thinking is so very wrong. We should let children experience everything and allow emotions to be shown. Tears are a part of that and can be cleansing. I found in my therapy that more and more frequently, tears would be shed. The reason was simple: I’d come back to life! I was experiencing things that I’d never been allowed to in the past. I was crying (in public!), and my tears didn’t make me weak, they were making me whole again. I was beginning to heal. I learned that as a child I was damaged and always waiting for someone, or something to help me. I realized as an adult that it was me that I was waiting for. I think at times that I’ve become the person that I wish would’ve been there for me earlier in my life. I feel as though I’ve grown into this superhero of sorts. Standing by saying, “It’s alright to cry.” It takes time to unlearn all of the things that we learned earlier in our lives. We need to be patient and forgiving. There’s that word again, “Forgiving.” The definition of Forgiving is the action or process of forgiving or being forgiven. While I’ve always hoped others would forgive me for my transgressions, I’ve been seeking my own forgiveness for a very long time. I can feel myself sitting right on the edge of this, but not quite there. Time will have to be my friend and guide me to the forgiveness that I seek.
If you find yourself shedding tears for loss, for trauma, or perhaps just in happiness, be good with it. Feel the salty warmth of the tears run down your cheek – really feel it. Your body wants to let go of emotions. Don’t hold them in or stuff them down. You have my permission to let go – it’s alright to cry.
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.
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My story is complex and ugly at times. A single person saw my struggle and turned my life around. Had I remained on my road of Silence and Secrets, I fear I would’ve given up at some point. Please, hear my words and be the reason that someone decides to keep getting up each day. Be the change in someone’s world. While May is Mental Health Awareness Month, remember that for many out there, every month is awareness, every day and minute.
I’m here if ever needed. I’ll listen to your story, and do what I can to validate your feelings. Stay strong!
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.
When does something matter to you? Are you the type of person who focuses solely on yourself, and maybe your immediate family? Perhaps you’re the kind of person who looks at things on a broader scale and has empathy for those around you. I’m always curious about what others think and feel, that’s why I’m asking. When I was younger and around drug dealers and street thugs, I found that none of them cared about anything outside of their own being. I kind of slid into that way of thinking because I was so focused on just surviving. As I’ve progressed through my life, my thoughts progressed as well, so let’s explore that.
Being in the business and watching my “boss” make loads of cash with all the freedoms in the world, it was appealing, especially to a very young teen who hadn’t had a chance to really get a view of the world. I knew of nothing other than a very closed group. Life didn’t exist outside of that bubble. It was so bleak that I never felt that I’d live past the age of 30. I was all about the here and now, the instant gratification, the quick buck! What I found was once my eyes and ears opened to some people who came into my life, I began to realize just how big the world really was. I began to see things from a new and exciting perspective. While it didn’t sit well with my boss, and believe me, he tried with all of his might to keep me held back, under the iron fist. It was only a matter of time before I broke free of this closed minded thinking.
I’ve been writing about this in my upcoming book and how I started to “transform.” It would take many years to really break out of the shell that I’d created, but my thinking was always open to possibilities. I went from thinking that I was nothing, to believing that I could do anything. While I kept all of my secrets about my “prior life”, I still managed to keep an open mind. Talking to others, learning about what their fears were, what they might have gone through in their lives, and how they struggled. So much of the suffering that went on and still goes on is so preventable. Losing yourself in the shadow of another is what happened to me. I’d lost myself, become a non-entity who had very few feelings for others. I spent my time building an empire for someone who had me believing it meant something, that I was special. Mobster mentality if you will. You are meant to serve the powers at the top without question.
In these times of uncertainty and struggle, I find myself reflecting on what I’ve seen and gone through and likening it to the times that are before us now. This in turn makes me look at people around me once again and raise the question, “Does anyone even care?” Have we as a society lost our way, and possibly our soul?
I was mowing my lawn yesterday and my neighbor pulled into his driveway. He hassled me about mowing my lawn and thus “forcing” him to do his in order to keep up. We both chuckled and then had further discussion about things going on in his life. His wife was in the hospital again and he was having issues with his knee. He was still smiling and saying how he wished things would be better so that they could travel but had started to believe that would probably never happen due to health issues. It was a moment of pause for me. I’m still healthy enough to do as I wish and travel freely. I felt something right there and then for his situation. What could I do to show that I cared? Well, I started up my mower and began mowing his lawn. He didn’t ask me to do it, or even ask for help. I made the choice that was clear to me. It was the right thing to do. I felt for this man and just wanted to show that I cared. It didn’t take much time and when he walked out and found the lawn mowed, he smiled from ear to ear. He asked why I’d done this. I simply replied “because I wanted to.” He then said, “you didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate it.” There was nothing more that needed to be said. This is what humans are supposed to do, it’s what we’re supposed to be like. It doesn’t take much to apply what someone else is going through to your own thoughts and then offer help. Step outside of your bubble and experience things as others might. It’s why I always try to be kind to people who are perhaps having a rough go of it. It costs nothing to be kind. A smile or acknowledgment of someone can go a long way.
I don’t have all the answers to the world’s problems, but I do care about how we humans continue to form our society. I’d like to believe that there are enough of us out there that we can see through the eyes of others, feel their strife and possibly do something about it. So, then we get back to my original question that I posed: What kind of person are you? Think it through. Ask yourself what kind of world you want to live in. Are you happy? Do you feel anything for others in this world? I once was cold and the way I viewed the world was sad, unforgiving, full of hate and greed. I’ve worked hard to clear that away and see everything, and everyone. I remain hopeful that we can all find our way through in the coming years. If we can’t, our future is bleak, and uncertain. What are you willing to do about it?
As seen through the eyes of Zombie, and now Robert.
I found a tattoo in one of my many searches of the internet that grabbed me. It was an antique typewriter that said the words “I write only because there is a voice within me that will not be still.” That touches my soul. I truly cannot be still inside. I’ve referred to myself as being a “restless soul” for many years. I also feel that the reason I’ve survived everything is because my work is not done yet. I’m starting to believe, or at least feel that part of my purpose is to write. I always have something that I feel could be shared that in turn can assist someone else in their journey. Life is truly a journey and how we choose to live it is in our hands. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. You hold the power.
When I talk about past issues or the things that I’ve experienced through the years. I do so always thinking how I would feel if I stumbled across this blog earlier in my life. In a way, I’m speaking to my younger self at times, trying to guide my ship into the harbor. I was so lost, so hopeless and alone at points. I could have used this kind of blog then. When I sit here writing my book I think about all the stories that play out and when I read back through, sit in amazement that I’m still here. My restless self refused to ever give up. That is what I try to project when I write now. That even when things are at their worst, search for an out. Search for that light that can guide you so that you can find your peace.
My sister and I were sitting in my driveway tonight and both of us have had our share of crap thrown our way. We’ve come to a point that all we desire is peace. It’s just that simple. I don’t long for things, for stuff, or great fortunes. I want peace. I want to be able to live inside of my own head and feel good. I want to shed those that would bring about rage and feelings of old. While I’m good at confrontation and have found that I’m good at inflicting pain, I choose to step away from all of it. I simply want peace.
“There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.” (Laurell K. Hamilton) We all have them, wounds that for some, never heal. Whatever your life situation might be, you can make it better. As I stated before, I feel at times that I’m talking to my younger self. I’d want him to know that there will be an end to the loneliness and pain. The burdens will one day be lifted and peace will surround you. Like sitting in a warm quilt on a cold Winter’s night. In order to achieve this kind of peace, work has to be done.
I got on here tonight to write and calm my soul a bit. To cleanse myself after writing more of my book. The book is part of my work to find my inner peace. To calm that restless soul. Pouring things out in my book is stepping back in time and with that comes some picking at old wounds. Some are just relationships that were shared and left behind. I had a moment tonight that made me look up a girl I dated while still “in the business.” She was a damaged human that had demons of a different sort. I cared deeply for her at one point in my life and had to let her go. She struggled with both alcohol and drugs as time went on. We stayed in touch for several years but at some point just lost touch and everything went radio silent. I was curious how things turned out for her and hoped it would be positive. That was not the case, she passed away in 2021 at the age of 52. Reading this was not entirely shocking to me, but made me sad nonetheless. She was a human that had dreams and too, wanted to quiet her demons. Our roads could have been much the same. I still remember the last time that we spoke and how I felt that she was so lost. I wish that there was something I could’ve said to her to give her hope. The idea that there’s always a new day tomorrow and we can make it better. Some never find that.
“Stalked by Demons, Guarded by Angels” This is on my RoadID that sits on the side of my Garmin watch. I feel that there is always something in my past, or some kind of demon that stalks me. I’ve managed to keep them out of my dreams for awhile now, but always feel that I need to stay a step ahead. When I’m restless and tired is when I look for those Angels to come and sit by me. I’ve had moments that I’ve simply closed my eyes and asked for something that I felt was too heavy to be lifted off of me. Moments that I just don’t feel I can get through alone. While I still struggle with my faith, I do feel that there is energy in our world. I’m never afraid to just step back and allow this energy to assist me. To let my restless, brokenness be still, even if it’s only for a few moments. To allow me to breathe and process. If I could say anything to my younger self it would be “Don’t try to carry your burdens alone.” Tomorrow will be a new day and there will be a chance to find what you truly seek, peace.
I’ll close out by enclosing a piece that I found.
Thank you so much for following along on my journey.
~Robert~
There will be people who move on without you, and people you admired that you can no longer look up to, and there will also be gaps in the trees where the wind blows through and reminds you: no matter the betrayal or the rejection, there is still room in this life to make meaningful, new connections.
I’ve been sitting here working on my book this evening. Decided it was that time…time to hop over to the blog and shake the bad feelings out. I’m torn with my book. I love writing it because I’m getting things out and processing them as I go. The problem is that some of the things that I’m processing aren’t going so smoothly. There were a couple events that I just typed out that are still just kind of festering. I’m struggling a bit with sleep, at least good solid sleep. Strange nightmares and feelings of regret. I told my sister that I’m looking forward to getting through the worst of the stuff, so that I can start writing about the rest of my life and finding my way out. It makes my typing that much quicker and focused. I want to just dump all of this out of my head and onto the computer. I’ve reached out to my counselor, as she stated after our last session that she’s only just a call away. I know when it’s time, and it’s time. I also see the opportunity to further my disclosure to her. As I’ve stated in other blogs, she knows more about me than pretty much anyone on this planet. She won’t judge me, and will help me to find a way through, which is what I always desire. Just simply a way through.
The other area of struggle is being seen, or heard. This is a common theme in my blogs because of having to be silent for so much of my life. I was made to hide away everything, and in doing so, you become kind of a gray man. You just blend into the backdrop. It was required earlier in life, not anymore. So, when I have these moments where I don’t feel that I’m seen, or heard, I panic. It fuels agitation and negative thoughts. Being dismissed by another is one of the worst things that I can ever experience. It makes me want to just scream, “look at me when I’m talking!” As you can imagine, there are many in the world today that can easily just look right through you. At the store, restaurant, work, doctor’s office, pretty much anywhere. People that engage solely with their cellphones also get directly under my skin. I think how hard I’ve had to work to be able to climb out of my shell, only to find that so many out there want to crawl back into a shell. I’ll never understand. There’s no great happiness in being so secluded.
The book is coming along quickly. I’m still feeling good about having it completed before the end of the year. I’ll reach out to some that are part of my past to see if they’d be comfortable with me using their given name, or if they’d want it to be switched. I’m writing it with the given names because it’s much easier for me to just let things pour out with the people that were a part of my life and then go back later and switch names. It’s kind of surreal reading back through all of it. I was just telling one of my co-workers the other night that I feel as though I’ve live a thousand lifetimes. They all feel like they’re broken down into sections. The things that have felt distant are now back in my face again. Intense.
One of the happy parts that I was writing about was my high school typing teacher. I wrote a pretty good section about her and so wish that I’d gone back to tell her how much she helped to shape my life for the better. There have been moments, and people in my life that I feel were placed there to guide me in a better direction. A road block of sorts. When I was at my most destructive and could’ve easily fallen deeper into the underworld, someone or something got in the way. In this case, it was a teacher that saw something in me. She took the time to see me, to hear me, to nurture my skills. One of the discussions that we had, I swear she knew everything about me. She was desperately trying to guide me away from the darkness. She made me believe in myself and that there could be a better life for me, I just needed to focus on it. Again, she arrived at the perfect time and made a change in me that altered the course of my life. Teachers are a gift. They have the ability to find people that have been lost in life. I’m not going to say that she made everything perfect, but she gave me a chance. She gave me what I needed at that particular time in my life. Had I not encountered her, and had she not noticed me, things could’ve been very different now. My ability to sit here and type this blog out is because of her. My ability to be writing this book are thanks in part to her. I’m grateful for having her in my life.
You know that I like to wrap things up in some kind of positive fashion, so just remember that I do see and hear you folks when you speak to me. I enjoy the many conversations that I’ve shared with so many now. I’m grateful that people seek my wisdom from a life lived. This is how I think humans should be. We need one another whether we want to believe it or not. I might have a bad day at work and say that I hate people, but really inside, I don’t. I’m not saying they’re all good for me, but they might be for someone. I take my wife’s advice and try to remember that there’s good in all of us.
The challenges of writing a book are a real thing. My issues stem more from the inability to get through sections because of the content. I’ve said before that it’s all stored and just waiting to come out and onto my computer. I sit down, turn on some music and start typing. I recently typed up portions that had to do with events that are just disturbing. Telling this part of the story gave me all kinds of bad feelings. I didn’t like myself for being a witness to things that I never wanted to see. Writing it out was a positive, but then re-reading it made it very real…again. I looked over the words and wondered, who the fuck was I?! It’s these moments that make me have to step away and get my head straight again.
I’m grateful that I have a support system in place, so that when this does happen, I can reach out and look for clarity. While I understand that it was a long time ago, and that I was a young tween/teen at the time, I can’t help but gravitate towards those negative human emotions. I contacted my sister and went for a walk after typing up this latest portion of my memoir. I was catching her up on what I was working on. We discussed one of the situations in particular that had me still feeling sick. I explained the whole event and how I’d left it open to interpretation. I couldn’t help but break into tears as we walked. It was like this tidal wave of horror that just washed over me. I felt like I was trapped in a dark storm. My sister was very gracious and kept reminding me that I was just a kid, that I was surviving, and that I needed to let this go. The actions of others were not my doing, and in fact I was being intimidated by these individuals for a reason…control.
I love that I have this outlet to clear my head. I do love writing and telling this story. I knew going into it that it would be painful, but I guess I didn’t realize just how much pain it would bring about. This book is important to me. I’m hopeful that once it’s all out that I’ll feel some kind of relief; a closure of sorts. The idea is to be able to come to terms with all of it – everything. The other challenge with writing is my constant view of everything that went on and how many times I put myself in a bad position. I think of the legal ramifications with everything I type. There was a passage that I was writing and I made the statement “this is when I committed my first felony.” The gravity of that statement sat heavy with me. With each paragraph I type I look back at it and can just sit there and point out all of the different things that are illegal. It’s like throwing a dart at a board and hitting a bullseye every time.
I have to keep telling myself that I’m not that person anymore. While he still resides inside of me, I’ve grown, I’ve changed, and I seek to be a better human. While I feel an urgency to type everything out as quickly as possible, my body and mind won’t allow that to happen. A good friend reminded me that “the timeline is my own.” I’m holding on to those words with a tight grip. This is my story and I can do it in a manner that I feel good with. A manner that allows me time to find healing as I pore over the pieces/parts of my life that I’ve tried so hard to wish away. I’ve tried to set the stage so that people reading it will understand how I got to be in such a compromising position. If I didn’t try to explain that, I could see people reading the horrible parts and wondering how I could be that way, or how could I get involved with people like this? It was a slow and methodical approach, taken by someone who was just really good at their craft. You’ll also start to understand that being in a home that left me open and vulnerable played a part in it. If you’ve kept up with my blogs, then what I’m saying here came through in many of my recent blog postings. “What would you do to survive?” I blogged about that and asked others to look inside themselves and ask that very question.
My plan with this memoir is to lay out how I got into the position of working for an underworld person, then as I go, give reflection on each of the events as I spell them out with the clarity that I have today. The later part of the book will be focused on life after getting free of this ugly phase. The damage that it caused that was long lasting, the struggle to find myself and a reason to keep moving forward. Through all of this, I just can’t say enough times that I’m so happy that I’ve made it this far. How I’m happy to finally be able to speak to people openly and not have to worry about my past creeping up and pulling me under. “Silence and Secrets” was another blog post that comes to mind. I lived that for so much of my life. Always wondering if I’d take everything to the grave with me. The fear I had of speaking things out loud for fear of reprisal, fear of harm, and fear of losing those that I love.
I’ve asked my sister Patti to do artwork for the cover of this book. We’ve started a dialogue on what we think would best fit. I recently thought of Dante’s Inferno and the 9 levels of hell. Some of the images that I surfed through struck me. So powerful and so relatable. Climbing out of hell, or all the different levels of hell were something that I understood. I’ll keep you updated on this as we progress. My sister has serious skills and I know that whatever she comes up with will be amazing. (No pressure Patti)
My internal goal is to get this book completed before year’s end. Expect more blogging as well because this is a good dumping ground for all of my stirred up feelings. Consider yourselves warned…lol! I want to thank the following for getting me through this past week:
My sister Leanna – for all the mental support
My sister Patti – for having vision and talent with art…I look forward to the book cover art
My wife Karla – for being a great editor…even when she didn’t want to be.
My friend – Amy DeVincent for keeping me centered.
I’ll continue to thank all of you that keep reading and following my journey. The idea that there are people out there that care enough to read the stories of this mixed up human amaze me daily. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
Recently at my job I had to do my yearly training for “signs of human trafficking.” I’ve been doing this annually for quite some time now, but for some reason this time it really hit home. When I think of human trafficking, I think of others, people in the outside world. Whether it’s sex trafficking, forced labor, or some other kind of abuse, it’s always been on the outside. When reading through our material and listening to the videos, something caught my attention and I found myself turning my training inward. I had a breakthrough at that moment.
My life as an underground person has always been something that I was never proud of. I looked at myself as a poor, somewhat rough kid that just happened to grow up on the wrong side of the tracks. I fell in with a man that stated he saw something in me that could enhance my life, make things “better.” Everything started out simple enough. Watching people was easy and getting paid to do so was even better. There were “lessons” that gradually progressed, both in what was expected of me and the severity that came with failure. I learned to fear this man, and knew what he was capable of. The benefits of being around him were money and a certain amount of power. I wouldn’t realize until later that my powers were very limited and almost any request that I would make came at a cost. Nothing is free in this world. The subtle way that all of this started was by design. Treat you good, pay you well, smile a lot and gain your trust. I trusted him after being around him at first. He was also a friend of my father, so I felt a connection was in place there. What I realized later, is that I’d fallen into a trap for which there usually is no way out. I became part of very structured organization that believed in nothing more than making fast money, and lots of it. I see now that I was part of human trafficking. Webster’s definition of human trafficking is this. (The unlawful act of transporting or coercing people in order to benefit from their work or service, typically in the form of forced labor or sexual exploitation.) I fit right into the very definition! He gained financial benefits by coercing me to work, in very grave conditions. Putting my life and the life of my family and friends in the cross hairs. It’s like I’d read this for the very first time during my training at work. I’d had an awakening.
I sat at my desk looking at these words over and over again. It brought about a flurry of emotions. It was almost dizzying how fast things were coming at me. I started thinking of the different things that had been done to me. Places that I was made to go. People that I had to interact with that made my stomach turn. The constant fear that never seemed to leave me. All the nightmares that had kept me from beautiful sleep, and worst of all, a huge part of my adolescence had been stolen from me. I’d been betrayed, broken and left in a void at the end…wondering if I’d stay alive at all. This opened up Pandora’s box. Everything that happened over those years of “service” and all of the damage that had been caused by it. So many things were broken that wouldn’t come to the surface until way later in my life. The relationships that I was unable to form. The people that I could never tell my secrets to. My family that had to watch me struggle in silence for so long. So much…just so much to process.
I reached out to my counselor and told her that I had what I felt was an “awakening.” This felt like the biggest breakthrough in the many years that I’ve been in counseling. I felt like my counselor (Amy) had been trying to lead me to this all along. She mentioned things like “what would’ve happened if you’d stayed in the game?” “Where do you think it would’ve progressed to?” She mentioned human trafficking. My immediate thought was, at that time, trafficking of others. It never dawned on me that I was the one that was already being used. She replied back to my text about the awakening, “yes, awakening! Glad you can see that connection of threat and intimidation!” She understood me. It’s as though she’d been waiting at the train station the entire time for me to arrive. Her reply made me smile. This amazing person cares about me and what I’ve been through. I want to take this moment to share something she wrote to me after my last blog. I’ve asked her permission, and she’s granted it.
Someday you will forgive yourself. For what you did, for who you were, for pain you caused.
Someday, you will allow your guilt to befriend your shame and awaken the fear of death and darkness.
For those you couldn’t protect. And then one day, Like the tulips in the Spring Who hid underground. Like the monsters, will suddenly emerge older, wiser, more confident Transformed.
And wisdom will spill from the moon and unite with the energy of the sun. Just like light and dark needs to be-
Exposed, Vulnerable, Beautiful, Healthy versions of male and female. Listen again…Healthy versions of male and female. Live life full of love Forgiveness, Redemption, Renewal. Now it’s time to walk the streets with peace and be open to the male and female gentle loving inspiration. ~Amy C.
From the first moment that I started to read this I could feel my eyes start to fill up. All of the things that I’ve carried, for so many years. All the crushing weight of shame, sorrow, and guilt have started to lift. I did not ask for the things that happened to me and I’m no longer a victim of these crimes. I’m a survivor!
For those that I couldn’t ever tell, I hope that you’ll understand. Those that are part of my life now, I’m finding my way, and I now feel hope. I will continue to write about all of this, as it’s a journey that’s taken so much, but a journey that I feel will have an ending of my own choice. One that has peace.
January was National Human Trafficking Awareness month. I’d like to remind everyone that there are others still out there suffering at the hands of those that would profit from the very destruction of a human life. Please be mindful of your surroundings, and look out for those that might need your help. As a Survivor of Trafficking, I can tell you that your help and understanding can make all the difference.
Once again this came about through numerous discussions. Do we ever really know someone? It’s an honest question that deserves to be looked into. I’ll share my feelings and then just leave the rest up to all of you to ponder. My take may be a touch different because of my background, but I’m sure there will be some similarities. Along with my thoughts of life and death, came the ever nagging question that I’ve posed as the title of this blog, Do we ever really know someone?
I’ll take a quick trip into the past to give perspective on why I feel the way that I do, or at least why I feel like I do at times. When you’re in the darker side of life and doing things that run well below law abiding, you need to be, or present yourself in a certain manner. The reason is simple, you want to stay alive. I’ve shared before that I was trained to be an observer of other humans. I was also taught to show nothing about myself. What I would show others, was only what I wanted them to see. I was able to roll through my entire high school life without a single soul knowing anything about me. Stop and think about that for a minute. Put yourself back in Junior high or High school and think about how people were. How social, how tight different “cliques” were. All the things that kids are supposed to do at that age. Now imagine being part of something so awful that if you so much as whisper a word of it, you could die. That’s what I carried back in those days. I had to put myself out there as a quiet, shy, ordinary kid. I find humor at some of the things that people wrote in my yearbook. They really had no idea, because I didn’t let them know.
We all have it in us to be less than truthful. We use our skills acquired in life to hide, or perhaps shield others from truths. In my case, I didn’t want to be truthful because there could be harm brought to anyone who might know my position. “Loose lips sink ships.” Loose lips also get people killed. I became a nonentity. Funny how even now at work I always tell people around me that I’m “nobody.” There’s truth to that statement even though I’m smiling when I say it. I learned to fade into the backdrop, to not be seen, to blend in. If I felt that someone was getting too close, or had a feeling that they might suspect something, I quickly got into the wind. Deception is something that is used, especially in the surroundings that I found myself in. These blogs are probably the most honest things that have ever come out of my body. There’s healing for me in writing all of this. You’re getting to know Zombie a.k.a. Robert. In some cases, for the very first time.
So, do you feel that you really know a person? Are you close with your family members? Perhaps you have a best friend that you tell all your secrets to. Do you feel that you really know one another? I’m not trying to make everyone paranoid, it’s just something that has come to pass in my journey in this world. I think deeply at times and this is a topic that intrigues me. Why do we not want others to know everything about us? My counselor Amy knows the most and we still work towards a full disclosure. I know that with more time and work, writing, I’ll be able to spill all that needs to be spilled. As I age, I process things differently, so there’s hope that I can see things through a fresh lens.
How about this. I’ve always said that when you meet someone, whether it’s social, work related, or a dating prospect. The person that you meet at the beginning is the “representative.” They’re most likely showing you the very best that they feel they can be. It’s a show of sorts, acting. I like to wait and see what they do when no one is looking. How they interact with others, especially when they’re comfortable. Listen intently when people talk. You’ll hear much of who they are in conversations, especially as time goes by. How they view the world and others is important. Let’s not forget animals! If someone hates dogs and cats you need to run, not walk away from them…lol!
Being a voyeur who was trained to pay attention to subtle details of other humans has gifted me the ability to spot frauds. In some cases I spot them and just allow them to be in my general area. It’s more of a “I want to see how far they’ll take things” action. There are some who, when I spot them, I call out right to their face. It’s a dangerous practice, and can lead to altercations, so I’m mindful about doing this at this point in my life. There are people who I feel have genuine goodness about them, and I want them in my “orbit.” Time is the key to all of this.
Photo by u041du0430u0442u0430u043bu0438u044f u041au043eu0442u043eu0432u0438u0447 on Pexels.com
You see, humans are so very fascinating. The way in which we socialize and maneuver through the world captures my attention all the time. I feel that it’s only fair that if I’m constantly assessing people around me, that I should be more open about myself, and here we are! This is what I’ve learned over the past few years with my counselor. I must embrace the darkness that has served me in my life. I am learning to accept some of my “abilities” that I’ve acquired as a part of me, rather than trying to distance myself from them, or erase my past. I’m also learning to show other humans who and what I really am. I know that not everyone will understand, or perhaps not want to be around me, and that’s o.k. While I do this, I try to bring attention to all the things that make me who I am. How I question everything and why I’m always guarded with my feelings. I think in the end, if you ask the question “do we ever really know someone?” If it comes to me, I’d like the answer to be, Yes.
Big topic today. This has been rolling around in my head a bunch. I wasn’t really sure how I wanted to approach it because I have views that not everyone will be comfortable with. The topic is death. Well, life and death. The approach that we take to things during our life and what influence it might have is a part of this. The end result is the same for all of us, we will die one day. What happens after that is open to much interpretation. I’ll do my best to get this to all make sense…so, hang on.
We roll through our lives at such a high rate of speed at times that it’s almost overwhelming. I do my best to slow things down and really take in all of the subtleties. That wasn’t always the case. I think we can all agree that when we’re younger, our focus is not so much on how long we’ll live, but how much fun we can cram into the shortest amount of time. The other side of that is that as we age, we find that we appreciate everything much more, including time, and our health. There needs to be a balance there of sorts. We need to stay young in our thinking so that we continue to try to do the things that make us happy. As adults, we tend to get caught up in the whole rat race and fall into ruts. Going through the motions of waking up, working, going to sleep…rinse and repeat. LOL! Now I know that things do go on in between that, but how much? What things are you still trying to do that make you truly happy inside?
I’ve always felt that work is nothing more than a means to an end. It provides me money so that I can pay my bills, eat and survive, so it’s kind of important. There was a point in my life when I was searching for some kind of “career”, and doing what I could to climb the company ladder. I found that it gave me no real satisfaction, in fact, it probably caused even more unwanted stress in my life. Trying to find the “it” that your boss was looking for. Adjusting your life to the ever changing whim of an employer is just exhausting. Do yourself a favor, do the job that is expected of you so that you can collect the check that you need, and nothing more. If you leave, or die tomorrow, the employer won’t give a rat’s rump. You’ll just be replaced by some other soul and the game will continue. I’ve always been willing to do what is required of me and I do it to the best of my abilities each and every day. That should thrill any employer on the planet. I show up, work hard, and I leave. I don’t create drama, I just get things done.
When I was younger, things looked different to me. I wasn’t sure that I’d make it past the age of 30 and that was actually a number a little higher than what I was really thinking. I didn’t enjoy my life that much and was always searching for “something.” Mostly a way out of the life that I’d fallen into. It was during those years that I was focused on surviving, yet had no fear of dying. I mean really, when you reach a certain point, dying is much easier than surviving. It takes a lot of work to survive in this world and you have to be willing to go through the struggles to make it. I had some friends, had a girlfriend or two back then, but nothing substantial. I was going through the motions and surviving. The change was coming though.
Being an adult and finding my way in the world became interesting. My desire to be a better person happened overnight and made a profound change in how I viewed the world. I always hope that others find a similar path, or at least some kind of path to change for the better. Being trapped in darkness is no way to go through this world. Once I’d parted ways with some of the folks from earlier on, I took steps to do things the right way. Once I discovered running, oh man! Everything changed for me. It was like someone had turned on a light! I’m quite certain that I’ve said it enough times to make everyone crazy by now. Running was the one thing that truly saved my life. Does that happen for everyone that takes it up? I don’t know. I do know that I’ve met some interesting people along the way who had stated that running had performed some kind of miracle for them as well. Some walked away from drinking, others quit using recreational drugs. Some had found a way out of an abusive relationship. Running has done many things for many people throughout my life thus far. “Running never takes more than it gives.” For real…
When out running, or walking, I’ve learned to really take things in. As I’ve stated before, I’m very much a voyeur in this world and running opened my eyes to things that were so moving, and profound, it could move you to tears. Sunrises and sunsets are always a favorite. Flocks of birds flying in unison can be remarkable. The sounds of the seasons…be it ever changing, each season has its own sounds and smells that must be taken in. These are the things that remind me of what an amazing planet I live on and how wonderful it is to be alive. I find every mile that I spend out on the road to be beneficial in some manner. I can leave all of my troubles or worries out there, and trade them for something better. It’s a gift to be able to run, or walk for hours. I look forward to every single time I walk out the door. Wondering what life has to show me today.
Now that I’ve thrown all of that out there. There’s a part of me that wonders how much time I have left. Is this mid-life crisis coming on? I’ve just had these feeling that I need to see and do so much, like it’s all coming to an end. I’ve not been diagnosed with some awful disease that’s prompted this, I just suddenly decided that it was time to really focus on all of the small things. Once I started having these feelings, I began reading articles that talked about the end of life. The most talked about thing that people said towards the end was “they wished they had more time.” I don’t even know how much time I have left at this point, but I feel that way already. Knowing that I still have to work to continue to support my existence makes me feel like it’s time wasted. I’ve worked hard on changing my perspective on this and trying to enjoy my job more. Not so much the job, but more the people that work by my side. I’m working harder on forming bonds with them – not something that’s been my strongest attribute. I’ve decided that if I have to be in the place, I need to make it a better place to be in. An extended home if you will. Don’t ever do the math on how much of your life you’ve spent or are spending at work, it’s depressing…lol! Yeah, I did that.
Along with these feelings about my end of life, I wonder what impression I’ve made, if any on others. I keep a pretty small circle around me, so it makes me wonder what, if anything will be remembered about me. When I leave this earth, will anything that I wrote touch someone after I’m gone? Will the conversations that I’ve shared stay in someone’s memory until they to leave this earth? I know it’s heavy stuff, but you really can’t manage how and when things are going to pop into your head. Here’s a hard one to explain. I’ve always felt that we truly walk this earth alone. I think at this point that was brought about by the damage that I suffered earlier in my life. Keeping so much of myself silent and hidden continues to bleed into so much of my thinking. I want to break that feeling and cherish all of the small things. If I’m at work, I want to have good, meaningful conversations with my co-workers. I’d like to perhaps leave my mark on them, so that when they no longer have me around, they’ll speak kindly of me and perhaps share a story of my silliness. I want this with my family as well. We’ve spent so many years fractured, that I want to make the best of whatever’s left. I think I can get there.
Reason, Season and Lifetime. This is a poem that for many years I had on the front of my refrigerator. It has to do with the different ways that people come in and then go out of your life. It gives perspective, and reassurance that they don’t always leave your life because of something you did. They simply served the purpose that they were meant to. I’ll drop it on here:
People come into your life for a reason, A season or a lifetime. When you know which one it is, you will Know what to do for that person. When someone is in your life for a REASON, it is usually to meet a Need you have expressed. They have come to assist you through a difficulty, to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you physically, emotionally, or spiritually. They may seem like a godsend and they are. They are there for the reason you need them to be. Then, without any wrongdoing on your part or at and inconvenient time, this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end. Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away. Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand. What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled, their wake is done. The prayer you sent up has been answered and now it is time to move on. Some people come into your life for a SEASON, because your turn has come to share, grow or learn. They bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh. They may teach you something you have never done. They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy. Believe it, it is real. But only for a season. LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons, things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation. Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life. It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.
I feel that this poem helps me to understand many of the relationships that I’ve had over the years. It also gives me vision for how some of them might end in the future. There are so many things that I still don’t understand. The only thing that I’m sure of at this time is that I want to live the rest of my life to the fullest. The loss of my mother was a changing point in my life as well. She lived with so much regret about her own life that it made me sad for her. My father was much the same. He chose to push away so many who were close to him that when he became immobile, he was bitter at the world, and felt that no one was left to care about him. Watching them in their final stages of life gave me pause. I needed to change directions so that I wouldn’t have the same fate or feelings. Death will certainly find us all, but we can do our best to dance and sing until it arrives. Be joyful in our own skin, and walk each day as though it really matters…because it does.
In closing I’ll just say this. Nothing is more important than your happiness. Find what it is that truly makes you happy and go do it. Talk, laugh and sing with those that you surround yourself with as often as you can. If you must sit at work, than do everything you can to make it more enjoyable for yourself. It might even carry over into others. Who knew that work could be a fun place to be? When death comes for me, I want to smile at it, and say it’s alright now, I’ve done everything that I came here to do.
The zombie file 