Don’t Fix Me

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…

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

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.

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.

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~

The Price of Survival

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.

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~

Beautifully Broken

“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~

From Darkness to Light: Overcoming Internal Struggles

Being that we’re in the month of October, and everyone is prepping for their scary season. I thought I’d ask, what scares you? I mean what is so unsettling to you that it feels as though it grabs your soul? I have phobias for sure. I’m unsettled by tight spaces, heights, and even basements. (Thanks to my sisters) When we lived in our house on Nevada, it had a pretty good sized basement. A set of stairs that went down and stopped midway where there was a small landing and a side door to the home. The stairs then continued on into the basement. There was a main room, and then split off from that were a couple more rooms. One had the washer and dryer, there was a shower room in the corner of that and then there was another smaller room that was off of that. Of course the usual furnace, water heater and such were down there. To most, it would appear to be pretty normal stuff. The space under the stairs was always creepy to me and I didn’t care for it. My sisters knew about this, and one day decided to run up the stairs together and lock the basement door. From there they began telling me all of the creatures that were underneath the stairs that were going to come out and get me. Once I was finally let out, I screamed all the way to the living room where I attempted to get under the sofa. I was absolutely petrified. Needless to say, nightmares ensued. I’ve never been a fan of a basement to this very day! I’m in my 50’s now and still look over my shoulder when walking up the basement stairs. In the back of my mind, the kid from so many years ago is still in there and he’s still terrified. It never goes away.

When it comes to people, there are literally a handful that have scared me in my life. A couple of the darkest moments will probably soon be revealed in counseling. The last session really dug into something. Amy said that it’s the first time that I showed fear. I felt it when we were talking. It took me to a place that made me want to scream like that kid running from the basement. I wanted to dig my way underneath a sofa in the worst way and never be found. The very idea of facing your fears can be trauma in itself. Staring at something that you really don’t want to. I’ll ask you to think about that for a second. Is there an event in your life that makes you feel this way? Something that makes you feel like a kid that wants to hide underneath something in order to make the feelings stop? Hold onto that for a moment.

I’ve found while doing these blogs that there are others that have fears, and have lived through events that haunt them to this day. While I tell the story about the basement, it’s just to give you perspective. Everyone has been scared by something like that as a child. While I still have my feelings about basements, I walk up and down in mine all of the time. My biggest fear in my life is facing my own thoughts. Yep, it’s true. That’s where all of the blackest things reside. Events that I thought I put to bed years ago, loss of persons in my life, hunger, struggle, all of it’s there. Let’s go back to the words of my sponsor, “stay out of your head, it’s a bad neighborhood.” Yes, it’s a bad neighborhood. The question is, do I want to leave it as such, or do I want to try to turn it around?

Here’s a free piece of advice for anyone that suffers from darkness. It doesn’t go away on it’s own. You can’t bury it, you can’t will it away, it needs to come out from whatever basement that you’ve left it in. Once you dig it out, face it head on. Will it be scary, hell yes! I know that the next time I go to see Amy we’ll be doing just that. The reason why I will follow through with this is because I want to feel better, I don’t want to be scared anymore. I don’t want to have the darkness reside in my head and fester. If left unchecked, it only manifest into much uglier things. This I promise you.

You may have noticed on my last blog entry that I used my given name “Robert”. This is something that was also discussed with Amy. You see, Zombie it’s been decided is the darker side of Robert. While I’ve held onto the title and used it many times, and even in a fun way. It’s almost like it’s an alter ego. Zombie is who holds the secrets. The fears, the things that scare me. The eyes of Zombie have seen much and we believe that it’s time for me to step away from that. I won’t be changing my blog name, as it’s still fitting for what I do and what I write about. The Zombie File is the files of the many things that have been witnessed, both good and bad. I’ll continue to step back into those times, gently, because there are still stories that need to be told. With each blog entry I feel relief. So, I’ll just keep doing this until there’s nothing left to say.

Tonight, while I’m asking you to visit the darkness, I’m also letting you know that there’s hope. (I know Amy, here’s the sprinkles–inside joke). Ask yourself what scares you and think about visiting those spaces. I don’t want you to do it alone, but I’d ask that you work towards that. If we clear out the ugliness, then perhaps we can enjoy the darkness the way it should be. “Without darkness you can’t see stars”.

I’ll be taking my steps in a little over a week, and facing what broke me. What made tears come to my eyes, tightness to my throat, shaking of my hands. That’s the level of scared that I feel. I know that with the help of Amy, I will no longer want to run and hide under that sofa. I won’t have to be scared anymore.

Thanks for reading

~Robert~

The Intersection of Mental Health and Truth: My Journey

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~

Employee vs Employer: Finding Balance and Valuing Work

Employer vs Employee. We’ll do a deep dive and examine things.

Work. Most of us go to work each day with either a sense of purpose or as a means to an end. What drives you inside? Is it your own desire, or is it because your employer places expectation on you? Do you feel valued at work? All questions that I’m sure we’ve pondered at some point. Let’s look into it through the eyes of Zombie.

I’ll reflect back to my upbringing and tell you that I had a Father who was very motivated. He believed in working as hard as possible each and every day. He would regularly tell me how I needed to act at work, that I should make myself as valuable to the employer as possible, and do as you’re told. My Father hopped around when it came to jobs. I think he was always restless as well, but wasn’t sure how to deal with that. Even though he’d always told me to be very dedicated to my employer, he didn’t seem to live by that mantra. He was easily upset by bosses and didn’t like having someone telling him what to do. He had great skills in the automotive industries, so finding other work seemed to happen fairly easily. He never made a lot, but he had work.

After moving about to different dealerships, he decided that it was time to break out on his own, and opened his own body shop. He had the gift of gab and knew many in the industry. This helped to get his start-up moving and then it started to take off. I’d love to tell you that everything went great from there, but while he was a great body man and mechanic, he was terrible at business. Lacked in the accounting area and it would become his downfall. Once he ended his business, things were tough. We struggled quite a bit as a family. He made do with small jobs that he would do in the garage at home. He had a hard time finding work at an established place because of back taxes that he still owed from the failed business. A couple of places took a chance on him, but it fell short quickly when the state and federal government came around wanting to take his pay and harass the business. These were really rough years in my childhood and I still suffer from events through those years.

The big turn around came when he was hired at Jeep Corporation as a supervisor. They were amazed at his knowledge and he quickly became a favorite around the plant. This was the steadiest employment that I remember him having in his life. He enjoyed what he was doing and felt he’d found his purpose. He still struggled with bosses telling him what to do, but decided to keep his head down and toe the line for the sake of his family.

As I’ve stated in numerous other blogs, I’ve been a study of humans for most of my life. I watched quietly and learned from others. I paid attention to everything my Father was saying about working hard and being valuable. He just wasn’t aware that I’d started doing this as part of the underworld. Hard work and paying attention to details does make you valuable. I’ll stay away from that part for now.

When I started working in the “regular” world. I kept my mouth shut and paid attention, worked my hardest to become as valuable as possible. I started to find that even though I was doing all the right things, it didn’t necessarily translate into good things from my employers. While they enjoyed seeing me arrive every day and working my hardest, the reward that came with it was minuscule. Not all bosses enjoyed someone who was good at their job. Numerous bosses through the years would take notice and look for ways to hold me back, or sabotage me in some fashion out of jealousy or concern that I might be coming for their job. Things just weren’t adding up, why wasn’t I able to break through? I was doing everything that I’d been taught. It just didn’t make sense.

In one of my jobs, I’d worked on a night shift, and had quickly moved through the ranks. I’d moved into a management position and was thinking that I’d finally be making headway to a better life. I dedicated myself and many hours to making the department and the company better. Never stepped away from long hours, or call backs after going home for the night. I just knew that if I kept it up, my value would skyrocket and I’d be noticed. In reality, I was taken advantage of. I’d eventually be moved to another department and given the opportunity to either take a pay cut and stay, or end my career. The company was making “moves” and was in a transition, so they needed everyone to be a “team” player and take whatever they offered. The next department was just hell on earth. The hours were 7 p.m. until 4 a.m. and we never got out on time. I already had issues with sleeping, so the change didn’t do my body, or life any favors. The work was tedious, and the people in the department were pretty terrible. I did my best to suck it up but knew that I wasn’t going anywhere and needed to make a change. I talked with my boss to see if I could get back to the pay level that I’d been at prior and he didn’t even slow down when blurting out “NO!” He then added to it, “you should be grateful that you even have a job, this is the best you’ll ever do in your life.” There you have it, there’s the payoff for years of hard work and service. This is the best I’ll ever do? Once those words rolled out of his mouth, I became determined to find other work, and quickly. It was time for change.

I found work at my current employer quickly. I just needed to wait for paperwork and drug testing to be cleared. Once that happened and the offer was made, I was ready to share the news with my boss. This may be cringe worthy to some people but it was one of the defining moments in my work life. I walked into work that night, did my normal job, which was starting to get picked at because I’d asked for the raise. At the end of my shift I went to the H.R. department and asked if I could be paid out for all of the leave that I’d acquired, if I left tonight? They said absolutely and asked if I’d be leaving then. I told them to get the paperwork ready and I’d be right back. I went into my boss’s office and gave him the news that I was leaving. He kind of snickered and leaned back in his chair. At that point, I threw my badge on his desk and told him to fuck himself! I then added that no one would ever tell me what my value is, or that this is the best I’d ever do. I then told him I was going up to H.R. because they had paperwork waiting for me to sign and he should maybe reconsider the next time he decides to take a shit on someone. That was the best, most confident walk I’ve ever had in my life. I strutted like a peacock on full display for the world to see. I learned then that my value is decided by me, not my employer, not by a boss, but me. I put the world on notice that night and changed within.

I’ve spent many years at my current job. I still believe in working hard and doing my best, but it’s more of a self serving thing. I do it because it’s what I want to do, not because I’m being manipulated by others. I know my value and if someone wants me to do the extra, they need to step up and treat me accordingly. It’s not being cocky or arrogant. It’s knowing that as an employee, you can make or break the place that you work at. You trade your life for a paycheck. That’s reality. We’re paid to give up time, to further the cause of a company. Yes, it provides for our life outside of work, but that’s the trade and it should be done fairly. Understand that I appreciate my job and what’s it’s done for my family, but I’m also aware that I’ve given blood, sweat and tears to further their cause. Fairness, that’s what it comes down to.

As a supervisor/manager now, I hold all of these things sacred and I treat my employees accordingly. I know that they all have value and lives, so I let them know that they’re appreciated. Even when they’re in a position that requires them to stay over, and they don’t want to, but have to. I thank them. It’s a simple gesture, but it means something. It means that I take notice of them, and that I appreciate them. That’s not something that I’ve experienced much in my life. I want my workers to know that I’d never ask them to do something that I wouldn’t be willing to do myself. I’m also willing to stand by their side and do the hard work with them, not above. This is the way it should be done in all companies. This is how I want to feel when I arrive to work, that I matter, that I’m important and what I do there is valued. Big bonuses would be great, but I’d take a “thank you” any day of the week…with sincerity.

It comes down to balance and respect. We know that we all need to work in order to provide, but that doesn’t need to be held over our heads. That’s not how you motivate humans…at least not this human. I’m motivated by people who are willing to get into the trenches with me and do the hard work. I’m motivated by a work force that has empathy for one another, understanding that we are all in this game of life together. Balance. Respect. Think it through. What motivates you at work? What is it that you need to maintain your desire to keep showing up? Is it just for the paycheck, or is there satisfaction gained in what you do?

I’m proud of who I’ve become. I’ve found the balance that I speak of. I’ve kept the many things that my Father has taught me and added a bit of my own flavor to it. While I’m coming closer to the end of my career, I still get up and put in a full days work. I owe my employer that. We’ve agreed to exchange money for time, and for the moment, I’m alright with it.

Thanks for taking the time to read through, and I hope that this gives you something to think on.

~Zombie~

I’m compelled to write

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thank you so very much for reading.

~Zombie~

Not all days are bad.

If you’ve been reading and following my journey lately, you may feel as though I’m sliding downward, or things are out of control. Let me reassure you that I’m a work in progress and yes, there will be tough days, but not all days are bad.

Understand that mental health is an ebb and flow kind of thing. You can ride the highs of great events, time spent with loved ones and just being alive. There’s also the challenges of stress brought about by work, family life, relationships, or brought about by triggers. (In general, when a person is “triggered,” they’re being provoked by a stimulus that awakens or worsens the symptoms of a traumatic event or mental health condition.) I felt the need to add that so that everyone understands when I say triggered, you have some kind of baseline definition. Triggered events are the toughest for me. I don’t know what can bring them on. Sometimes I have no idea why something is upsetting me so much. When this happens, and I have a moment of feeling lost, alone or worst of all rage, I reach out and ask for guidance. While I’m lucky enough to have someone in my “corner” that is a trained professional. There are other avenues that I’d highly recommend to others. Al Anon is a wonderful organization and they hold meetings on a regular basis pretty much in all communities. They’re free and even if you don’t have issues related to alcohol, you’ll find good information in those rooms. This too can help you from feeling all alone.

“Healing begins at the end of resistance and the beginning of surrender.” I found this today on social media and wow did it grab me! When we take the initiative to lower our guard and stop resisting, to surrender, we can find peace. I’ve experienced this on so many levels, that I really felt this quote. Sometimes it’s the simplest sayings, memes, quotes that can make the biggest difference in your mood. It can boost you up and make you feel “normal” again.

The power of writing, reading and music. These things are truly my safeguards. Being able to sit in front of the computer and just pound away on my keyboard is so therapeutic. I’ve found that my brain works in such a way that I need the keyboard to be able to keep up with my thoughts. Yes, I’m a skilled typist. (Thank you Waite High School). I can throw things down and purge them from my brain, good, bad or indifferent. I also recommend writing or journaling things. You can keep them all to yourself, share with others, or write them out and then burn them. I know of many that find that as a way of closure. Reading self help books and poetry can do wonders. Add some great music to any of the above and just wow! I’m currently sitting in front of the computer and listening to scores from movies, one of my most favorite types of music. I bet you’d never guess that!

I want my post to always be thought provoking and hopefully not to much for people to handle. I don’t want to hurt anyone. My time for doing that is behind me now, it’s time for a new chapter in my life. One of forgiveness and healing. I find tears start just by saying this out loud. It takes me right back to a moment sitting with my counselor and her asking me “Robert, when are you going to forgive yourself?” I exploded into tears when she asked me because that was a question I’ve never been able to answer. I’ve held myself accountable for so many things for so long, it just became a part of me. I never thought that I was worthy of being forgiven. Like I said, I’m a work in progress.

I hope that you have a better understanding of humans by reading through my blogs. As a studier of humans in general, I seek to point out things that are both good and rewarding. As I stated at the start and with my title, Not all days are bad. I’ll add to that, not all people are bad. There is a path forward, just seek it. I’ve always been jealous of my wife’s ability to see things from a different perspective. I can be in the throws of rage and she’ll say something that sparks a different thought, which carries into a different reaction, and slows me back down. I don’t think that I thank her enough for talking me off so many ledges over the years. It takes a special kind of person to handle me. Thank you Karla Jean.

In closing; I just want to say that today is a better day. I’ll keep writing, reading and listening to my music. I’ll keep seeing my counselor until we both feel that I’m back on the right track and able to go it alone. When I say alone, I don’t really mean it. I know that there are those out there that will always have my back and my best interest in mind. While I remain slightly broken, I’m good today, and sometimes that’s good enough.

As always, thanks for reading, I’m honored that you all take the time.

I’ll see you on the road.

~Zombie~