My Path to Healing

December 15, 2024 / Zombie / Leave a comment

This has been a busy week on the counseling front. I managed to get in two sessions within a couple of days, which was very helpful. I said some of the worst things, out loud, and in front of someone else. I have a witness of sorts to some, but not all of what I’ve gone through. Conversations that I had that torment me to this very day. Threats, manipulation and grooming were items covered. I had to look within myself, honestly and speak truth. I sat before someone that I’ve grown to trust more than just about anyone in my life and emptied my soul. She (Amy my counselor) has listened without judgment for years. She’s seen me regress at times, shift back to a child at moments, and has guided me through so many dark alleys. She has never wavered in her support, and has always believed that I’d be whole again, safe from everything. Her words have stayed with me when I’ve felt myself slide backwards. It’s been there when I stopped believing in myself. It’s been there to teach me to that what I really am through all of this…Is a survivor.

The emotional toll that trauma can have on the body and mind can be tremendous. There have been times that I’ve left her place and struggled to even drive myself home. On numerous occasions, I’d leave there and go to Meijer and just walk around. I’m not sure why, but there’s something about just doing an “ordinary” thing after such discussions that grounds you. It brings you back to the present. It’s become kind of a joke when I say that I’m doing my post therapy walkabout at Meijer. Some sessions can be so intense that I just really need to shut down and breathe. When I talk about going to therapy/counseling with others, I like to say that I feel everyone could benefit from time speaking with a trained professional. It’s true. We all have secrets that we hide. Secrets that are possibly causing further damage as we age. Secrets that need to reach the surface, be looked at safely, then put away in a manner that will serve our mental health in a positive fashion. In some cases, secrets that just need to be shared so that an objective person can explain clearly to you that it was not your fault. Free you of the burden of having to carry such things around for the rest of your life.

I’ve learned much sharing space with Amy. I’ve learned to pay attention to my body when I’ve been triggered. To pay attention to my breathing and try to be present with it. I need to be kinder to myself and above all, forgive myself. One of the things that I’ve learned of late is that my darkness, along with abilities that I’ve gained through life events have served me well. They’ve kept me alive when there’s no reason that I should still be walking. They’ve given me the gift of sight…the ability to see things that most would never pay attention too, both good and bad. Almost like an intensified vision. I believe that I’ve referred to this before as being a witness to events in the world. I’m seeing things because they need to be seen, or witnessed. Rather than always looking at myself as bad, or evil, I just look at all of it as just a part of me. The two wolves become one.

I don’t know where the rest of my life will take me, I can’t see that good. I know that there are still things that could be discussed, but for now, I’m going to just be. I know that Amy is just a phone call away, and for that, I’m grateful. I don’t want to fully rely on her, but rather accept the tools that she’s gifted me with. The idea behind sitting with her has always been to walk on my own again. I don’t fear falling down as much as I used to now. I also know that if I do fall, I can get back up and will be alright because I choose to. Life is full of choices, Lord knows that I’ve made some interesting ones during my younger years. Through all of it I’ve remained driven to be something more. To be better…always. Even during the darkest of times, I was driven to find a way through, then out! It’s no different now. I make choices each day to continue.

Photo by Natasha Fernandez on Pexels.com

I always copy Amy in on everything that I write. I’m guessing like many of you, she’s fallen behind. Sorry folks, I have so much still to write about. I think I needed to take this time to say Thank you to her and have all of you as a witness to that. She’s a humble and gracious person and I’m sure doesn’t expect anything like this. There have been a couple big moments in my life that were life altering. Two of the biggest were this. The day that I went to Pearson park to walk and decided to start running. I’d gone there originally with all kinds of wild ideas in my head. I wasn’t sure if I could see a path forward at that time and the next thing you know, running found me. I’ve had a wonderful relationship with running ever since that day. The second was meeting my counselor, Amy. She saw something in me that I couldn’t, or wouldn’t see in myself. She guided me down roads that I didn’t want to travel, only to come out on the other side a better person. She’s sat with me while I cried, both tears of pain and joy, and listened to everything. It’s these moments, people, events that have made me see that I have value. I don’t think that I’ll ever be alone again.

Until we meet again…

~Robert~

The pursuit of peaceful sleep

December 11, 2024December 11, 2024 / Zombie / Leave a comment

I’ve been referencing sleep, dreaming, nightmares and the eyes in quite a few of my blogs of late. Sleep has been a distant memory for me. I honestly can’t recall when I slept soundly, or without some kind of nightmare shaking me awake. I’ve learned over time to adapt to my situation by just simply learning to fall asleep whenever I have the spare time. I guess that I don’t feel there are really any rules when it comes to sleep. We believe that our bodies should lay down when darkness takes over the sky. In a perfect world under ideal circumstances that might be the case. For many of us “night crawlers”, it’s a different way of life. Darkness might mean we become recharged, or perhaps some even anxious. There are so many reasons for sleep issues, so I thought I’d take this time to talk about it.

Photo by Aljona Ovtu0161innikova on Pexels.com

I do have a few memories of being very young, and resting peacefully on the floor in our living room with my blanket covering the heat vent. The warmth that it provided was so comforting. It didn’t matter if I had a pillow or even cushions to rest my body on, I was comfortable, and sleep came easy. I’d do a similar thing in the summer months by taking a sheet, placing books on all corners of the sheet, and then on top of the fan and turned on the fan. It became the most beautiful dome of cool air. I’d climb inside with my head towards the fan and just drift away with the sounds of the fan and the cool breeze blowing against me. Each of these things were as though I’d built my own nest. A safe place to rest, with no worries and plenty of comfort. I think back on those moments now and realize how gentle I was, how carefree. Only beginning on my journey through life.

Fast forward some years and sleep became harder to find. Discomfort caused by insecurities. Worry and wonder as to where life was leading. It was no longer a thing to climb under my blanket and leave the world behind. The world had come for me and I was just learning how to deal with it. People and places were now changing the landscape of my childhood. Darkness was no longer just about the evening hours, but part of everyday life. It was during this time that I started to find ways to sleep wherever and whenever I could. I had to make sure that I was safe, and that was critical to being able to shut down. Think of watching an old Western movie where you have a cowboy out in the middle of nowhere laying with their head tilted on a log, perhaps by a fire. That’s kind of how I felt. You always had to have one eye ready, watching, able to react to the slightest movement or sound. The wolves were out and prowling all of the time, so you had to be ready. It’s at this point that sleep would become a very distant friend to me. One that would be greatly missed for many years to come.

I still have the habit of dozing off wherever I can. When sleep is not a guarantee, you have to maintain your body in some fashion. The best way to do that is to allow it to rest when a moment presents itself to you. There are no rules to any part of this game called life, and that includes with sleep. When I know that most of my sleep during the evening will be broken up by reoccurring dreams, or some other type of night terror, I do my best to find those moments. The moments when you can just shut down, even if it’s only for 5 or 10 minutes. During the Covid years I brought that back into full swing due to the unbelievable amount of stress and concern that the entire world was feeling. I’d go out and walk alone or with my wife and return home where I’d set out a blanket and pillow on the living room floor and just nap. Extra rest was needed during that time and since I was already in a deficit on most days, this was the best thing for me. If someone says that they can’t take a nap because then they won’t sleep at night, I always chuckle. There they are, trying to follow the invisible rule of sleeping at night. Yes, it’s better for the body if you follow that clock, but when other issues stand in the way, you do what you have to do to survive.

There are a few times that I’ve found myself able to sleep somewhat better. I tend to sleep better when we visit the Smoky Mountains. I’m not sure what it is…I guess it’s true that there’s some kind of magic in them hills. I feel more at peace there than just about anywhere I’ve ever traveled to. Knowing that my mother resides in the mountains is an extra added bonus. She can keep watch over me and make sure that I’m safe. I think that’s something that every person wants, or wishes for regardless of their age. Even with the turbulent relationship that I had with my mother at times, she was still my mother, and mothers mean safety. “Mother is the name of god on the lips and hearts of little children.”

― The Crow

One of the tattoos on my body is an eye on my right arm. The reason for this eye – it’s the ever watchful protector on my skin to keep me safe from harm. While I “shut down”, the eye takes over and keeps watch so that I can’t be harmed. May seem silly to some, but to me, it’s real. I’m finding now that as more of the ink penetrates my skin, I’m more shielded from those who would harm me. I have no explanation at least one that would make sense to most people, it’s just how I feel. I suppose we could look back to that child and the blanket, or with the sheet over the fan. There was something protective about that as well. A cocoon where slumber came easy and worries were set free.

The more that I write, I’m finding that parts of my anxiety about my life are softening. I want so much to shed all that I carry with me. I was talking about it today with my sister Leanna. While I felt stressed trying to explain events in my life that even she wasn’t aware of, I needed to try. I have to push everything to the surface so that the light can take it. With each word that I attempted, I became constricted in my throat. It was as though a part of me was saying “NO, you can’t tell this…it’s too much!” The many secrets leave me feeling so alone. While the fear of physical harm has faded, there’s a different concern that’s filled its void. How will I be looked at by those who surround me? Those who matter the most to me. I’ve shared so much with my wife and yet there are still things to get out. I feel so close… so close to freedom. I’ve thought that if I reach that point, I’ll probably drop and sleep for days on end. That child from so many years ago is standing there waiting for me. I can see myself, so small, so bright eyed and full of hope. So rested and carefree. Asking the adult me “when can we sleep?” I’m almost there, I just have this last bit to get through, and then sleep will come.

“Sleep is an essential part of life-but more important, sleep is a gift.” William C. Dement

I wanted to say in my close today that I so appreciate all of the discussions that have come from my writing. While I’ve always said that I write for myself first and foremost, I’m always hopeful that someone out there can relate. That someone will understand what I’m saying. I’ve expressed my desire for others to read these blogs and not feel alone, probably because I’ve spent so much of my life in secret, and feeling very alone. You can fill a room with people, and those people can care for you, even love you, but when you harbor dark secrets, it’s as though the room is empty the entire time. No one really knows me, but now you are all starting to. This has been a painful journey but one that I needed to travel. I hope that you find slumber tonight. I’m almost there.

Until we meet again…

~Robert~

Don’t Fix Me

November 28, 2024 / Zombie / Leave a comment

People tend to want to help others, at least some of the time. Many of us have something built in that if we see someone in need, we reach out to them. This can be very appreciated especially when in crisis. The line gets blurred when someone decides that they can “fix” you. I’m guilty of doing exactly that at numerous times with persons that had no desire to make change. I don’t want, or expect others to reach into their bag of goodies and place a bandage on my wounds. I’ll explain.

I talk much on my blog about the different types of issues that I’ve acquired over my years on this earth. I share the parts of me that are damaged and what its meant for my life going forward. I also share the setbacks that I’ve encountered when faced with challenges that I’m not sure how to deal with. When I’ve fallen into crisis mode, I will either completely seal myself up, or it all seems to explode outwards in some kind of hostile word salad. Those around may not be equipped to handle this or offer help. At these moments, the help that I’m in need of can far exceed what the normal human can handle. I need guidance from a professional, or perhaps just time. This is not a slight towards those that are concerned, I just don’t want to be fixed. When I say that, it means that unless you understand the entire story, the offer to fix could cause more harm than good.

This is a really complicated subject matter, and I hope that I can make sense of all of it. I’ve had family members, loved ones and friends attempt to reach me at different times when I’m in a spiral down. I love and appreciate them for this, as long as they don’t add the dreaded advice on how to fix myself. Don’t try to fix the problems by saying things like “it’s not that big of a deal”, “you’re not that person anymore”, or “you’ll be fine.” Offer a listening ear without judgment if a purge is needed. Ask if there’s something needed, like should a counselor be contacted. Sometimes even just a hug can slow the processing and bring me back around again. A great example of this is when I walk with my sisters. They listen when I’m riled up about things going on in my head. The combination of physically moving and having someone just hear you when you hurt makes a huge difference on getting through crisis. My wife is good for moments when I walk in the door and just stretch my arms out and say that I need a hug. She’s always available for this and it settles the fire within. I highly recommend hugs.

Fixers want to get very involved in the trauma and that is not a welcome place to be. I don’t want to mix a person and their feelings, or ideas into my mess. I’ve even had times when I’ve just walked away from someone giving me “advice” on how to make things better. It feels more like a push, or a shove. Almost as if to say “do it my way and all will be well.” I feel a wall going up immediately when this happens. It’s best if I wall up and shut it out rather than allow more emotions of hostility creep in. I’m sure that we’re all guilty of just wanting to simmer, or as I like to call it “stewing in my juices.” I really don’t want anything from anyone. I just need time to sort everything out and I’ll be alright. I’m pretty good at letting others know when this is happening and just ask for space. Some fixers just can’t stand to allow this to happen and will continue to chew at your edges until there’s a snap. There have not been many, but I will tell you that when its happened, I’m unapologetically horrible. Once that happens, the fixer then becomes hurt, or possibly angry. Now there are multiple fires burning that really didn’t need to be.

When I say that if you struggle, feel free to reach out, I’m not offering any form of counseling, or fix. I’m simply saying that I’ll listen. If you want me to share how I’ve felt in similar situations, I can do that so that you don’t feel alone. I’m not the person to fix anyone, that much I’m sure of. I’ve even discussed and thought about getting involved with at risk teens. Something that my counselor thought might be helpful. It’s an area that at least for now, I just can’t go into. The very idea of having a teen, that acts the way I did and might be in even worse shit staring blankly at me doesn’t sit well. I know how I was at that age and I’m not sure that I could’ve been reached. They may not want to be fixed either, so I’d serve no purpose. This could change as I work through all my “things”, but for now it’s best that I focus on my shit and get that corrected.

With all this being said, humans are so very complicated and as my cousin said recently, “we’re all in a different place.” I’m in a part of my journey that others may not be. Some haven’t even started to address their problems. The timeline is our own. We all know when it’s time to make a move and get the help needed to collect our shit together and move forward. It took me into my 50’s before I decided to get rolling and that was only because the counselor was sharper than I was and detected issues. I knew that my sleep was a mess and that my nightmares were causing harm, I just wasn’t sure that I could do the things necessary to get better.

One thing that I’ve learned in these years of counseling. I’m better than I was, and that’s huge! I’m able to sleep a little better and I don’t have the reoccurring nightmare anymore. I’m aware of when I’m sliding and require a “tune-up”. Being aware of what’s going on in your head is just as important as being aware of how you feel physically. These two intertwine, so pay attention to the sometimes subtle blips on your radar. Know when it’s time to seek out a professional so that you can manage all the things going on. Try your hardest to remember that the fixers do have good intentions, they just don’t understand what’s in your head. Do your best to step back when they encroach in your space. Give warning when, or if this happens, but be as gentle as you can. If they are persistent in “fixing” you…only you know what needs to happen next. I’d suggest just walking away.

Once again this topic comes about by way of listening to music. One of my favorite songs came on the other day and it sparked this entire blog. The song is called “Fix Me” by the band 10 years. I’ll drop the lyrics below because they’re pretty spot on with how I’ve felt at times. “I’m fine in the fire, I feed on the friction, I’m right where I should be, don’t try to fix me”. Yeah, that hits the spot! I highly recommend giving this a listen, you’ll truly understand what I’m trying to say here. If you’re in need, seek assistance. If you want a listening ear without judgment, I’m around. I promise not to try to Fix you.

Until we meet again

~Robert~

Fix Me by 10 years

It’s taken a lifetime to lose my way
A lifetime of yesterdays
All the wasted time on my hands
Turns to sand
And fades in the wind
Crossing lines
Small crimes
Taking back what is mine
I’m fine in the fire
I feed on the friction
I’m right where I should be
Don’t try and fix me
I’m fine in the fire
I feed on the friction
I’m right where I should be
Don’t try and fix me
So lost for so long
To find to my way
I failed to follow
I’m out of place
Crossing Lines
Small crimes
Taking back what is mine
I’m fine in the fire
I feed on the friction
I’m right where I should be
Don’t try and fix me
I’m fine in the fire
I feed on the friction
I’m right where I should be
Don’t try and fix me
I’m fine in the fire
I feed on the friction
I’m right I should be
Don’t try and fix me
I’m fine in the fire
I feed on the friction
I’m right where I should be
Don’t try and fix me
I’m fine in the fire
I feed on the friction
I’m right where I should be
Don’t try and fix me

Mirror Mirror…

November 25, 2024November 26, 2024 / Zombie / Leave a comment

Mirror mirror on the wall. I’m betting that takes all of you to a Disney moment in your life – me too. It also makes me look within myself. I touched on the fact a few blogs ago that I have a hard time looking at myself in a mirror. The reflection that I’ve seen over the years doesn’t match up to what I feel inside. It’s as though I’m looking at a face I don’t recognize just looking back at me. Creepy, right? Exactly why I avoid mirrors. What is it that you see when you look into the mirror? Is it simply your face, or is there more? Mirrors and reflections are something that I think about, write about and even have dreams about. There must be something more to it. What secrets are held within this sacred piece of glass? Shall we?

The mirror is normally just a common household item that is used for our vanity purposes. Fixing hair, applying make-up, checking skin, all of the things that humans do. Depending on the lighting, a mirror can give you a different perspective of a room. Some place large mirrors on walls in order to make smaller places look bigger. An illusion of sorts. I look at the mirror as an illusionist as well. I have, in the past, taken a good hard look in the mirror to see what it is that others see. Do they see the reflection as I see it, or do they see a different version?

The mirror has not always been this unpleasant of a thing to me. There was a time when I was good with the person that I was seeing. Probably because I lacked feelings for the world and it was nothing more than my face. The eyes were darker then and carried a heavy weight. It was not until “the night” that everything changed for me. I’d gone to bed as normal and literally woke up the next day with feelings! You could call it a divine intervention (the action by God -or god – of getting involved in a human situation in order to change it.) Being that I’ve never been a very spiritual person, that seemed odd, and given the life that I’d been leading, I struggled even more to make sense of it. If God had taken a moment to come to me in my sleep and change everything about who and what I was, there had to be a reason.

The morning after this all transpired, I took a look in the mirror. I was terrified. Who was this that I was looking at? It was like everything had changed. I felt different, I had empathy, I hurt for the things that I’d been doing and felt the desire to make amends to those that I still could reach. I know you’re thinking, if things were turning for the better, why be terrified? What I saw was not a good person. I still saw rage, anger, deceit, and darkness. It was as though a monster (Zombie) was looking back at me. I jumped back away from the mirror and decided that I had to change the reflection.

I felt off that entire day, and I knew that I still had to “take care of business.” How would I be able to do that now when everything had changed? I couldn’t go through the same things as before with feelings. This could easily end my “career.” I became paranoid that others who surrounded me knew and could feel that I’d changed. My God, if I can’t hide this, I’ll die for sure. How did this happen? I went back to the mirror that evening and looked again. I found myself asking the mirror, what is it that you are showing me? What do I need to do? There was no answer as you may have suspected. There was my face, and those dark eyes staring back at me.

There is much more that went on from this point, but I’m not able to share it. Perhaps one day, but I’d say doubtful. Some things about me just need to remain a mystery. I’ve remained scared to use the mirror for anything more than shaving, and I don’t even do that on a daily basis in order to cut down on the amount of times I look at it. I work out at a gym that is covered with mirrors, but I’ve learned to focus on my body parts and never look at my face. It may seem extreme to most of you, but there are demons in there for me. There may be demons in the mirrors for some of you as well. Look hard and tell me what you see.

I think that the mirror is my own way of reflecting on myself. Even without seeing the physical form, it’s as though I see the spirit. Self evaluation is, or at least can be, extremely hard. We are our own worst critics, but we also harbor secrets. When you look at the mirror, do you see the secrets that are stored away?

This was one that I felt was going to be tough to write and it is. It opens up more of what travels through the mind of a person who has trauma and gives light to those things. It leaves me vulnerable to judgment. Judgment of my own mental stability. I’m alright with that if it gets things out of my head, and gets others to take a look into themselves. I know there are others out there who feel the same way. Some may hate the reflection for physical reasons. The reflection can cause problems for those who suffer from eating disorders, or other disorders such as body dysmorphia (a mental health disorder that leads to extreme distress over your appearance.) So, when I tell you that there can be demons in the reflection, it’s real. Look into the mirror…tell me what you see.

I chose this title based on music yet again. A band from the 80’s – Def Leppard. I’ll add the lyrics below because they too make some sense of what I see when I look in a mirror. The power of the mirror, the all knowing, all seeing reflections. It’s eerie and mysterious. Stop for a minute and gaze into the mirror, tell me what you see.

Until we meet again…

~Robert~

Mirror, mirror
Just watching with your eye of glass
You’re just a fortune wheel
With something that I wanna ask

Mirror, mirror
Got my fate lying in your hands
You’re the fool, you’re the juggler
Hangman and lover, you’re not like no other

[Chorus]
(Take a look into my eyes) Tell me what you see
(Take a look into my eyes) Tell me is it true?
(Take a look into my eyes) Oh, when I look at you
(Take a look into my eyes) Tell me is it me?
Is it really me?

[Verse 2]
Mirror, mirror
Gotta know just what you see
My crystal ball
You’re looking so sly and so sleazy

The depth of human emotions through the eyes

November 19, 2024November 21, 2024 / Zombie / Leave a comment

What is it that lies behind the eyes? A glimmer of hope, a dark secret, a faded memory, or just nothingness? I pay very close attention to people’s eyes because I feel that they speak even when a person is silent. Genesis 3:5 states, “For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” That’s powerful right there… knowing good and evil. William Shakespeare wrote; “The eyes are the window to the soul.” If you search around the internet, you’ll find all different variations of this saying, as well as different perspectives on what it actually means. I believe that the eyes are the doorway to all things. Our senses are powerful and can draw things back from deep within our bodies. What we see can make changes within one’s self that can be life altering.

“The eyes have it.” Yes, they truly do have… “it”. Again, I pay close attention to eyes so that I can get a better read on a person. I’ve spoken in past blogs how I can look at a person’s eyes and tell when they’ve seen death. It leaves a mark on the soul, and then reflects through the eyes. While I have serious trust issues, there are some people who, when I look at their eyes, can cause me to become more open to speaking with them, and with time, perhaps even sharing more of myself with them. Is it scientific, no. Is it perfect, again no, but it’s something that has served me well over my years on this earth.

There are some who have not only seen death, but caused it to come about in some fashion. Whether it was lawful or not has no bearing on how the eyes are affected. Traumatic events cause a stain of sorts, damage that doesn’t easily wipe away. Police officers and soldiers are the first people who come to mind. They can be caught up in a life or death situation all too easily and then become a witness to an event that may alter their lives forever. The eyes bear witness to more than what the soul can handle, that’s where things get messy.

There are also those who take pleasure in serving death. Their eyes have an entirely different look and feel. Yes, I said feel. If you come across a person who has the eyes of a killer, you’ll not only know it, but you’ll feel something. Some call it a sixth sense, or hair on the back of the neck standing up. This is when you know you’re in the presence of evil. A devil on earth. I’ve seen those eyes, and felt the weight of them. It’s not something I share lightly. I work daily to erase the vision.

When a child is born, the look that they have is something that is impossible to forget. The softness, warmth and love that you feel when looking at their eyes. Even as they grow, they have this look of innocence. Something that I wish they could hold onto for their entire life. Untainted by the world, full of curiosity and bewilderment, as if to say “who am I and how did I get here?” Treasure that look, do whatever you can to nurture it along.

I’ve seen a similar, yet different look in the elderly. They have that same childlike softness, but also a look that says “I’ve seen so much.” I’d like to think that I’ll have that look as I age. I’ve seen so much already, and I will say that not all has been bad. I’ve shared my love for the world and all the many things in it. From the dark, calm morning walks, the fuzzy creatures that scurry about, to climbing beautiful mountainsides. I’ve done my best to erase the things that have caused friction inside of me and blurred my spirit. I want to see more of the good, so that one day, all of the bad will just fade away. My eyes will tell you the story, you just need to listen to them. You can see the pain at times, but there’s also that glimmer that I wish to hold in place. The childlike softness that longs to thrive.

Photo by Baishnavi Bharati on Pexels.com

What is it that you see when you look at someone’s eyes? Take the time to examine carefully as not everyone likes to maintain eye contact. Use those senses within you and see what others have to offer. Look for the gentleness that resides in some. Steer clear of the darkness that resides in others, you’ll know who they are. The devil is the father of lies (John 8:44) and the deceiver of nations (Revelation 20:3, 8). He “disguises himself as an angel of light” (2 Corinthians 11:14) While I’m not the most faith-driven person, I’ve always felt that the devil, or devils are unable to completely conceal themselves here on earth. You have to take notice of things that don’t fit. Use your senses, use your eyes and find the darkness that could bring you harm. Here’s more food for thought. And although Satan is not afraid of us, he is terrified of the one within us. And our protector never sleeps nor slumbers (Psalm 121:3–4) I’ve always believed in myself. I’ve learned to be sharp and pay attention, almost to the point of causing physical pain. I’m forever on the lookout for the devils and ever hopeful for the soft eyes of an angel.

Photo by Kris Mu00f8klebust on Pexels.com

As I step away today, let me share this. My eyes have seen much, and while I have some regrets for the things that I’ve seen, I also have hope that my vision of the world has become brighter. If you find me looking into your eyes, don’t be frightened, I’m a study of humans and mean no harm. If you’re reading this blog, then you probably already know that.

Thank you for stopping by and reading.

~Robert~

Understanding Trauma

November 14, 2024November 15, 2024 / Zombie / Leave a comment

If you follow this blog than you know my subjects can be one of the many random things that are still floating around in my head, or possibly something prompted by discussions. Today’s blog is going to focus on the ability to “get over” something. I don’t think that everyone quite gets what I’m going through, and that’s alright. I’m not judging, but I do feel that it’s an opportunity to share. Perhaps I can assist people to see things from a different perspective, or shift the angle by which they view things. Let’s get into it.

Having been damaged by past events has caused a mental strain on myself and those around me. For much of my life I’ve kept everything to myself, never sharing anything about my past, not even with my family for fear of many things. When I was still in the “thick” of it, I knew better than to discuss anything that I was doing, knowing full well that it could bring about serious repercussions. Part of why I hid everything was for the protection of those I cared about. Later in life it was more that I didn’t want to be judged. I also didn’t feel that it was necessary to always bring up things that I’d done, I mean why not just stuff it down and lock it away. “The past is the past”, right? Not so much…I’ll explain.

I truly felt that everything that had gone on was now done. The people involved are gone now, and I’m pretty sure that there’s no one who would want to look me up at this point. Some of the trauma that I encountered at different times was put in a very safe place inside of my head. Locked away so that no one would ever know. What I failed to understand is that the human brain has a wonderful way of bubbling these events back up. Sometimes in the form of nightmares, or changing your way of acting towards other people. It seeps through the cracks of that locked box and teaches you that what you thought was securely stored away has really just been waiting to appear again.

How I handled relationships changed, the way I thought about work changed, sleep patterns were an absolute mess, and loved ones were growing concerned. I tried on my own to figure out a way to make the “bad” things go away. To keep the darkness from coming back into my life. I worked hard to hold back the demon inside. It was time for help. When I discovered my counselor, it was originally for the purpose of helping my daughter deal with her issues. I’d stay after for a few minutes and have a discussion with the counselor about how things had been going at home with Taylor, what changes I’d noticed etc. I think that my counselor (Amy) could feel that something was just off with me, like I was holding things back. She finally just threw it out there and asked me if I wanted to come in and have a discussion. I decided it was time.

Now, I started seeing her and we had some fairly open discussions, but I still kept my dirtiest secrets. I’ve learned to never trust anyone and if I shared the deepest, darkest things with her, once again I’d be vulnerable. We worked together for a bit and I started to feel that she was genuine. She was real and I could trust her. She even opened up about some of her own past in order to show that it was ok to do so. That gave me comfort. I can still remember the day that I went to an appointment and just sat there for a second and said, “I have to give you full disclosure if I’m ever going to get better.” I unloaded everything. I will tell you now that there are only a few people in my life who know “everything.” Amy was the first person to hear all that I had buried away.

We worked on so much after that, and I found it to be cleansing. I started to be more at peace with myself. I found that there were numerous things that I’d completely blocked out that still held a spot within me. We began doing EMDR (Eye movement desensitization and reprocessing) therapy. This is something used with people that suffer with PTSD (Post traumatic stress disorder). I definitely fit the bill with that. I will tell you that this form of therapy can do great things, but it’s hard to get through, at least it was for me. I found myself feeling very drained after a session of this and usually had to take a nap right afterwards. It helps to dig out the mess that we bury inside, reprocess it in a more positive fashion. If you suffer from a trauma, this probably sounds terrifying. None of us wants to relive the trauma, but the only way to get through is to face it. I’ve learned that my methods were failing me in an epic fashion.

Suffering from something like PTSD does not mean that I can’t function in society. There are many who never even knew all of the problems that I was struggling with. I was good at keeping them hidden. Using the tools that the counselor brings to the table are key in getting through the rest of your life intact. I have stretches where I don’t need to see Amy at all, and I’m able to function just fine. The unfortunate part is that there can be things that trigger you. While we get triggered all the time, there are some things that trigger a deep feeling, or emotion and it can be paralyzing. I’ll share one particular event where I was having a discussion with this person and we were discussing schooling – growing up on different sides of town as well as being poor. He started to rail against poor people. Stating that the only thing that holds them back is their own laziness. “Pull up your bootstraps and work.” That was his approach and world view. I could feel myself getting hostile, and starting to look for a “target” on him that I wanted to strike first. I could feel all of the shame that I felt as a child going without, having to hustle to stay alive. To sit there and have someone tell me that the reason for it was strictly my own doing, well that wasn’t sitting too well with me. I first gave warning for him to step away because he was in “my space.” At that point I let him know that because of his privileges of coming from a well to do family, and never having to worry about clothing, food, heat, etc. that he couldn’t possibly understand. “Walk a fucking mile in my shoes!” That was the next thing that came out. I knew that this was not going to end well if I stayed in close proximity with this guy and was wise enough to leave. I had been triggered, and triggered so badly that I needed to actually contact Amy and ask that we talk on the phone. I needed someone to calm me so that I didn’t do what I had already been doing in my head while this conversation was going on. He has no idea how close he came to seeing the dark wolf.

So, this brings me to my past. Be sure that I have no desire to sit and stare at it. I’ve learned that it’s the past and it needs to stay there. Why do I talk about this so much then? Well, it’s because the past has a way of reminding you that even though you don’t look back, it’s still there. The damage that has been caused by the past is the problem. It’s not that I want to live all of it over and over again. I need to know that I can still hold the line when the darkness comes knocking. The only way to do that is to properly identify the trauma’s root cause and work it out. It’s messy, but it’s necessary. These stories that I share are also a way of “cleansing” me. I feel that there are things that need to be said in order for me to be able to sleep again. I also share them so that others who have problems will understand that while they may be broken, there are tools waiting to be used that can help you. It’s painful to hold on to such awful darkness and not be able to share it. Our brains have a way of regurgitating the same scenarios over and over until we sometimes feel insane. We need the help from an outside person to give a different perspective, and then gently place it back into the box. This is not something that I asked for, it happened and I’m dealing with it now.

For those who may not understand others who suffer from trauma. Just know that when you say things like, “it’s in the past, you’re not there anymore”, or “you’ll be fine”, it’s doing a disservice to the person you’re speaking to. Try to remember that none of us asked for this. It happened, and we’re doing the very best we can just to survive. Try to have empathy and understanding. We don’t require special treatment from you, but we do want you to know that if we could go back and change whatever the event(s) were, we’d have done it by now. Remember to walk a mile in another person’s shoes, you just may find you don’t care for the way they fit. With that, I digress…

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my stories.

~Robert~

The Price of Survival

October 29, 2024October 29, 2024 / Zombie / Leave a comment

Survival. What are you willing to do to survive? How far have you had to go to keep yourself above ground, and secure? There are different ways of looking at the word survivor. One of the first things that comes to mind for most of us is surviving breast cancer. Lord knows there’s been entirely too much of that in all of our lives. I’m sure that without even a glitch you can think of numerous people in, or around your life that have had to go through some kind of fight in order to stay alive. In this blog, I’d like to look at other aspects of surviving. None of them are easy and most come with a price. The question becomes, what are you willing to pay?

This subject has been on my mind for some time now. I’ve had to think it through to see just how I wanted to dissect the subject of survival. Survival–“The state or fact of continuing to live or exist, typically in spite of an accident, ordeal, or difficult circumstances.” We humans come equipped with a built in mechanism that makes us fighters. We’re capable of enduring all forms of pain and still finding a way to persevere. We learn much of this early, from falling as a toddler, skinning our knees as a tween, breaking a bone as a teenager, and of course there’s the feeling of heartbreak when dealing with another human in a relationship. While it’s vital to recuperate from any physical injuries, it’s also vital to recuperate from the unseen injuries. The mental anguish that can burden us. Sometimes, for the rest of our lives. There are times when the two, physical and mental come together and cause the most serious damage. While you can heal from some things physically, the steps required to recover mentally can be taxing, and at times seem like too much. This is where survival truly kicks in. What are you willing to do to survive?

I’ve shared several of my stories on this blog, and can tell you that I’ve faced the question that I’m asking now. When you’re a kid, you look to others to guide you and show you how to manage life’s lessons. In some cases, the lines can become blurred. Not all that surround you are looking out for your best interest. Predators seek those that they feel they can manipulate in silence. This can be in the form of “grooming”, or teaching a child to learn the art of deception. Teach them to become paranoid of all that is in the world, and that only that person, or group is the true savior in their life. There are some that would befriend you and use you for the purpose of making money. As a child, you just don’t know any better, because you’ve not been on this earth long enough to sort everything out. Judgment becomes skewed and mistakes are made.

Instincts are always in you to survive. Those that would use you are always willing to see that you have a “better” life. They make sure that bills get paid, money is provided on a regular basis and protection from those that could harm you is available. When you’re hungry, cold, tired, or homeless, all of this can seem like a blessing. It’s also providing you the basic needs to survive. What is the price for all of this? The answers come with uncertainty. At the time, the price may seem low, and worth the risks that come with it. It’s not until later that discovery of the true costs sets in. How far are you willing to go to survive?

Perhaps there’s something in your past that is triggered by all of this, and that’s truly understandable. We all have our demons. We’ve all been through some kind of “shit.” If I’ve learned anything in this world, it’s that almost everyone has been through some kind of traumatic experience that has put them at the doorstep of survival. They had to find something deep inside that would allow them to pay the toll, as it were, to keep moving on the highway of life. I had to trade a portion of my childhood, along with a portion of my mental strength to keep above ground. I was made to walk in the shadows, taught to feel nothing, and work to earn my place on the planet. I traded what I feel is a portion of my soul. I’m working hard now to gain it back, and looking back at what I provided, it was a heavy cost. I’m still here though.

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When you look in the mirror each day, what is it that you see? I’ll tell you something about myself, I struggle to look at mirrors…that’s a very true statement. I still see the same scared kid at times, along with a hardened older man. I still see the survivor though. I try more now to pay attention to the survivor and let the rest slide away. You’ve heard the statement, or perhaps said it yourself a time or two. “I did what I had to do.” On the positive side of this, I’ve learned to judge less and enjoy more. I know that I’m not the only one that suffers in silence. I know that my story is not unique in this world, and that there are others far worse than mine. That’s one of the things that I still think about on my walks through my old neighborhoods. What are these kids going through now? What are they doing to survive?

So, you’ve been reading all of this and probably running things through your mind. Were you lucky enough to have made it through your life thus far without having to trade something? Are you strong, independent and happy? If so, I’m envious of you and wish you continued happiness. For those that have paid a price, and are here reading this, you’re still here and I see you. Whatever price you paid, I’m grateful that you’re still here. Walk back those demons and keep working on yourself. I told you at the start of this that we came equipped as fighters, and fight we will. There is much still to see and do. There are people out there that for whatever reason have decided that we have worth, and they ask for nothing in return. Align yourself with those people, lean into them when you struggle. The cost of survival can be high, but I’m willing to fight for it. I’ve put in the work, and will continue to. If you ask me what am I willing to do to survive? The answer is, whatever it takes because I’m a survivor

Thank you so much for reading.

~Robert~

Life’s walk-Dread and Hope

October 21, 2024October 21, 2024 / Zombie / Leave a comment

I have to be honest. I really don’t know how to be anything else. When I’m out doing my walks, there are days that I’m out there to kind of unload the stress of the day, or workweek. I take the time to breathe and see the beauty of the world. There is so much out there that is wonderful. Yet, on certain trips around, it’s as though I’m tuned into a different channel. I feel dread, and see the ugliness. I’ll touch on these for a moment and let’s see where it goes.

Recently, I went out on my usual walks about the city. I started out pretty much the same on both of these adventures, so I had no predetermined agenda. I wasn’t in a bad mood, or particularly stressed, but found myself going in two very different directions. On the day I felt darkness, it seemed as though there was a strange haze around the city. The weather has been pretty good, yet it just didn’t look the same. I found myself paying attention to odd things, garbage, broken down cars, burnt out houses, drug induced humans, all those things. When I start seeing this, it makes me start to wonder, how did things get this way? Why doesn’t anyone else see this? Why doesn’t anyone seem to care, about anything? It frustrates me. This then turns into, why doesn’t anyone pick things up? What is wrong with this world? I see people wandering about without a care in the world, kicking trash, breaking windows, stealing things, it just becomes overwhelming. My mind will move to how they were raised, or the lack of guidance. What kind of home did they come from? Will they ever break their cycle? Seriously, this goes on mile after mile. I’m grateful that as the miles go, I eventually find at least a small amount of peace, even after everything I’ve experienced.

I’ve always tried to explain to my wife that I don’t “choose” to be negative, or see the bad, I’m just wired differently. I find that we have a good trade off at times. She sees things like through the eyes of a child, and that gives me hope. She speaks of the good in others when I see anger and despair. When I’m angry about something, she’s a master of showing me a different view, or allowing me to see her perspective. I’m grateful for that. If left to my own, I’d probably hide myself away. When we walk together, on most of our trips, I’m able to stay on her vibe. There are still those times when I’m seeing things, evaluating threats and being ever watchful. I don’t share all of this with her for a couple of reasons. I don’t want her to be scared or fearful. I also don’t want her to look at me as though there’s something wrong with me, or that I’m being paranoid. I fear being judged by my own wife, probably more than anyone on this planet.

Now, when I’m seeing all of the positive, I still process threats and safety, but I’m very open to the beauty of the world. There is so much to see in our small city. The tiniest of details can make me smile. I love the rebuilding of the river front area and all through downtown. There’s a feeling of hope in areas that have been plagued for years with blight and filth. There’s a new spirit in areas like the farmer’s market, or the new park on the East side! I’ve watched that turn from an abandoned field to one of the crown jewels in the area. Even walking up Main street on the East side. It’s starting to see newness and change happening. Being that I come from that side of the river, I’m hopeful that it will see better days in the future.

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If you’ve ever taken a long walk with me, you’d likely never know that I’m processing threats, or watching out. I’m not vocal about it. I can only tell you that I’ll chat and enjoy your company. Just know that I’ve evaluated everything around us, and I can say with clarity that you’re safe, and protected. As for the why this all happens, I really don’t know. I feel like my brain is directing me and I don’t have a say in it. I’ve touched on this before. I feel like I’m to be a witness to whatever it is that I’m seeing. That it’s required to be acknowledged by someone. If not me, then who?

I think this is why I do so much better with someone walking along with me. It tends to bring a calmness to the runaway train within me. I’ve had discussions with my counselor on numerous occasions about “always being on.” I’ve not figured out how to shut things down or stop doing my “threat assessments.” As you can probably imagine, it can be exhausting. There are days that I just wish I could hit a button and not be going full speed in my head. While I have my different channels, there’s still a lot going on. I prefer the softer side yet I know the other still exist.

I was having a conversation with a friend the other day and we touched on our pasts. Some of the things that we went through and experienced. I knew that this person had a bit of trauma in there, yet they didn’t seem to care about it anymore. Stated that they chose to just move forward. It was at that moment that I felt myself falling internally. Why was I still struggling then? How come I can’t just see things as in my past and move on? Why do I need to analyze things so much? Once those words came out, I didn’t speak about the subject any longer. I’d heard lines like that before and it just makes me feel lesser. I don’t want to be judged. I had to remember what I always tell my wife. It’s not a choice, if it was that easy, I’d choose happiness to rain down on me for the rest of my days! I’m working very hard to set things on one channel. To see things that are beautiful rather than ugly. To bask in the sunshine rather than the dark. I’m painfully aware that I’m damaged goods. I’ve made the choice to try to correct that, but I know that it’ll take time. My case is one of many out there, so I know that I’m not alone. “This too shall pass.”

I’ll continue to take my walks and enjoy the company of whomever decides to walk along. I’ll keep working on getting things right, or at least find some kind of peace with who and what I am. I know that I’m not alone and that there is beauty in this world. That’s a start. I know that there are those that love me, and that helps to keep me whole. I also know that there are many that find things that they need themselves in my writing. That centers me. I’m humbled when people tell me that they enjoy reading my blog entries. I’m already a much better version of myself than I was years ago, so I can be fixed. Please know that I don’t choose to be this way. The choice that I made years ago was to walk away from demons and attempt to live a better life. I always joke and say that I never thought I’d make it past 30 years old, and here we are. I turned 58 last month. You all stick around and I will as well. I’ll get this thing right and find what it is that I seek.

Thank you for taking the time to read this.

~Robert~

Beautifully Broken

October 18, 2024October 18, 2024 / Zombie / Leave a comment

“Everyone could use a little counseling.” Words that I often share when having discussions with friends or co-workers. Might sound cliché but it’s true. Being human means that we’re flawed, and raised by others that were also flawed themselves. It’s a strange kind of merry-go-round that we can’t seem to ever get off. The best that we can hope for, is to get a better understanding of who we are and what has hurt us. Come along with me and we’ll take a look back.

The past life. This is a reference that I’ve used in many of my blogs. During my upbringing, I crossed paths with another human that took me under wing to show me how to have a “better life.” That was the way it was billed. A better life sounded great! I was a poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks, raised by parents that did their best at the time to provide a decent life. We unfortunately struggled with the necessities to get by. Keeping a place to stay was the main focus, and that was troublesome at points throughout my life. Food, heat, clothing were luxuries. When things were going good for my father with work, we ate pretty good. During those times, it’s almost like we couldn’t stop eating because we were worried that we’d be without again. Hiding snacks was a thing in the home. I’d keep small bags of food hidden away in my bedroom so that when the food was not as plentiful, I’d still have something. The heat and lights would get turned off on occasion because a bill didn’t get paid, but we found ways to get by. Let me point out that I’m not trying to put my parents down, they were just not well equipped to handle many of life’s struggles. Going back through this just gives you a better picture as to why I strayed into the Lion’s den.

The human that wanted to give me a better life was a friend of my fathers. My father knew nothing of the arrangement that I’d make with this man, and I’d hoped that he’d never find out. The idea of getting ahead and making some money sounded like an ideal situation. It started out slowly. I was being taught how to see the world. I refer to this at times as being “groomed.” I was paid to sit at one of his establishments and watch everything going on. He’d occasionally walk by me and ask a question about something going on in the bar. “Do you see that guy over there, what’s he wearing?” “What brand cigarettes is the girl at the bar smoking?” Small things that would turn into bigger things. He was all about being an expert voyeur. He would tell me all the time that it was good to be quiet. Quiet breeds strength and power. At the time it made little sense, but as I aged, it meant everything. The steps that followed would be much darker, and would involve harming others. I will say this. I learned quickly that drugs in our community are by far the darkest, ugliest vice. People will say, or do anything to reach whatever high they’re seeking. These eyes have seen much and I have no way to erase it.

Dipping my toe back into these stories always makes me nervous. I feel as though there’s always someone lurking, watching, studying me and my habits. It’s because of this time in my life that I became such a light sleeper. I’ve also struggled with insomnia for many years. That, accompanied with reoccurring nightmares that would always be the same. I knew the story line by heart. It was as if I was watching it on a television or from above while it was going on. The sound of a hissing female voice in my ear telling me that they were in my house and wanted to know where all of my “stuff” was at. It gives me goose bumps just talking about it now. It was as if Medusa herself was speaking to me. I’d usually wake myself up about this time and realize that I’d been having “my dream”, but always felt very unsettled. Enough so that I’d have to get up out of bed and check all of the doors and windows in the house. If I felt bad enough, I’d go outside and do a full perimeter check of the property. Yes, it was always that bad, or at least it felt that way to me. These are the kinds of things that stay with you. The damage that comes from years of paying attention to every detail. Being the professional voyeur.

There are so many stories yet to tell and I’m doing my best to get them all out before I expire! While there are things I’d like to share, I’m not at a level of comfort to just blurt all of it out yet. Many of these things happened in my home town. They happened while going to school, being a kid, trying to fit into groups of society. Trying to be normal and yet, keeping secrets that could never be shared with even my closest of friends or family members. Sharing secrets is crossing the line, and crossing the line means you don’t go home again. I see things as black and white, life or death. There is no other way to view it in my eyes. This is damage, this is trauma and I’m working on getting that squared away.

I share my blogs with family and friends pretty regularly. One person in particular gets what I’m saying. My cousin suffers from PTSD as well. He too is a work in progress and struggles at times. He has moments of clarity and then can be triggered and has to find his way back. One of the things we talked about recently was the fact that we both struggle in much the same way, but never knew it. Our family has all kinds of history, some of which I’ve discussed in my writing. We were kept apart for much of our lives growing up. As adults, it just seemed odd to even attempt to make a relationship with people you didn’t even know or were told incorrect things about. We’ve been working on our relationship now and going over our new found similarities. Another small tidbit with this, he comes from the law enforcement field. That’s where a good part of his trauma stems from. Oddly enough, mine comes from the underworld. Cop and Criminal united in a cause. We both speak openly now about PTSD and the stigma that follows mental health. It’s something that means much to both of us. I feel at ease being around him. While we both have our insecurities, we have the understanding of what it’s like to be broken, and broken badly.

So, could we all use a counselor in our lives? Absolutely! While I’ve been going back over my stories and clearing out my brain. I’ve found that I share so much more with so many. While there’s a sadness to that, it’s also a very good thing. I want to reach people that sit in the darkness and wonder where they’re going to turn to. The ones that have been questioning whether to make a phone call to a counselor or speak to a family member about how they’re feeling. There’s a level of brokenness in all of us. There’s no room for judgment in that. If someone speaks with me now, I don’t try to tell them that my trauma is worse than theirs. It’s not my place to evaluate someone else’s feelings. If you’re hurting, that’s what matters. My cousin and I can both tell you that there were so many times that we felt alone, alienated from the world. No one should have to go through that. Self isolation is the absolute worst thing you can ever do…period! You can have your moments of silent reflection, or mediation. Isolating yourself and everything you have all into one compartment is a very bad way to walk this earth.

I’m going to keep working on myself, and I’ll keep trying to write as much of my story as I can get out. There are spots that I’ll probably leave redacted for my own health and safety. I want all of you to think of your story. If you ever want to share with me, I’ll listen. No judgment ever. If you ever feel that you want your story told and would like me to add it onto this blog, I’d be honored to do so. I can leave everything very anonymous and just tell the story as the voyeur that I am. You never know, you just might catch someone’s attention and make a difference in their life.

I was telling a co-worker the other night that I try to write in such a way that I don’t harm anyone. I’ve harmed enough in my life. I’m trying to be a better version of myself moving forward. The idea now is to tell the stories, make myself feel better, and hopefully reach others so that they too can find light in all the darkness. We’re all Beautifully Broken creatures after all.

As always, thank you for reading and following my work.

~Robert~

The Intersection of Mental Health and Truth: My Journey

October 8, 2024October 8, 2024 / Zombie / Leave a comment

I totally understand why anyone that struggles with any kind of mental illness doesn’t want to talk about it. Why they don’t want “others” to know. Once you do, once the genie is out of the bottle, you can’t put it back in. That leaves you vulnerable to judgment by those that don’t understand, or just don’t care to understand. It’s taken years to get to the point that I’m at now, but don’t think that because I blog about my issues that it makes everything o.k.

Some might think that what I write about is brave, or that it gives them a better perspective on the rest of the world outside of their own. There are some that think the topics I touch on are too taboo. They feel that what I speak about is “too much”. That perhaps I’d be better served keeping this to myself, or dialing it down. The very reason I started touching on the topic of mental health is because it does reach everyone. There are just some that refuse to believe that they might struggle themselves. That perhaps they have their own secrets.

Since I’ve started this direction of writing. I’ve had some very positive responses, and have found it’s opened a door for others to explore their own world. That is thrilling to me! I love that perhaps the pain I’ve carried can somehow be of service in the long run. Then there’s the uneasy feeling that when I’ve written something that I’m looked upon differently. A certain sympathy look, or perhaps a look of being dismissed because they know that “you’re not well”. I feel it, trust me.

One of the things that is the most bothersome to me, is when my word is questioned. Growing up with nothing made me painfully aware that the only thing that I do have is my voice. Along with my voice is my memory and the ability to recall anything. As I’ve stated before, I’ve been “trained” to pay attention to details. Why? Because details matter. This is something that I’ve lived by for the better part of my life. Recently I went through an event that challenged all of this. I felt for a minute like I was truly going crazy, that everything I knew to be right, was now wrong.

“How important is it to be right.” This question was posed to me years ago by my sponsor. My answer at that time was, it’s everything. While I may not always voice my opposition, in my brain I know what’s right. I may not challenge the person, or persons at the time, but I’ve already begun my process into evaluating the situation. I also begin to evaluate the person, or persons that are involved. This again, is something that I’ve done for so long, that it’s second nature. In different circumstances, with less savory people, evaluating improperly can cost you everything.

This all then brings trust into question. My evaluation process lets me know what level I can trust a person. If some are willing to blindly follow and never question, I look at them as a “mark”. I align myself with those that have proven to be strong, question things and seek truth. There’s an intersection between the speaking about mental health and truth. I pass through this intersection on a daily basis. I work in an environment that is painful to who and what I am. I feel alone and singled out at times. I’ve been working on making peace with that, but it’s truly a struggle. When you use your voice and know your truth, and it falls on deaf ears, or is discarded, you’re left to question your place in the world. I’m not one for folding up and walking away, so it usually brings about hostility. My anger and hostility is, and will continue to be my main focus with my counselor. I don’t want to feel this way, yet find myself falling into this comfort trap.

Here’s what I’m looking for with this blog. I want everyone to understand that I may be broken, yes, I have damage that needs care. It doesn’t make me less than. It doesn’t mean that I can’t function within society. I don’t want pity. All that I want is what everyone should want, to be heard, to be seen. The other thing is that there are those of us out there that have experienced trauma that perhaps has made us keenly aware of things that others wouldn’t bother to pay attention to. We see the things that others don’t. I was trying to explain this to a co-worker recently. I stated that it’s a curse, and a blessing at the same time. I wish that I’d never gone through the things that I did, but I can’t change that. I can however take the strengths that it has given me and use them appropriately. The positive that came from the negative. I also want to be clear that I’m not perfect, but a truth seeker.

When you’re around me, when you’re speaking with me, know that I’m very genuine. I speak truth, always. The only thing that I have to offer in this world is my voice. The question is, are you willing to hear my voice?

Thanks so much for reading.

~Robert~

The zombie file

Life seen through the eyes of Zombie

mental-health

My Path to Healing

The pursuit of peaceful sleep

Don’t Fix Me

Mirror Mirror…

The depth of human emotions through the eyes

Understanding Trauma

The Price of Survival

Life’s walk-Dread and Hope

Beautifully Broken

The Intersection of Mental Health and Truth: My Journey