Why I Prefer Female Friends: An Exploration

January 31, 2025 / Zombie / Leave a comment

I recently did a blog about understanding the true depths of friendship. I wanted to carry that forward and explain some more of my feelings about friendship and the people that I choose to spend my time with. In case you hadn’t noticed when reading the last blog, I tend to lean in the direction of being around females. There are numerous reasons for this, but to cut to the chase, the main reason that I do this is because I don’t trust men. While I know that I’m “generalizing” when I make that statement, I have deep seeded reasons for leaning away from the males.

I attempted to write about this before, but for some reason WordPress’s AI assistant didn’t feel that what I was writing would pass their policies. I was somehow being offensive. I read through what I wrote several times but could not figure out what was bothersome. This just makes me want to write my book that much stronger! I don’t want to be censored in what, or how I say things. I want to be able to tell you what really happened and how I got to be the broken human that I am. There are things like mental torture, cruelty, intimidation, and on a few occasions physical abuse. None of these are pretty, and have taken much time to go back through them. I’ve spent years pouring out whatever I was able to in order to find a safe harbor. I can’t help that what I’ve been through doesn’t fit into a nice, clean and neat package with only kind words. The underworld is ugly. Things that go on out there are stomach turning to say the least. Being in close proximity with males at this time gave me a view of what life can be, and how females suffer greatly at the hands of such men. Children have no place in this kind of environment, nor should they witness abuse on all levels.

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My Father was a decent man. He had good intentions with much of what he was doing in his life. He spoke kindly to most folks and did his best to make sure that we had enough to get by. It didn’t always work out that way and we struggled. Food was scarce, attention was strained, and we kids began to find ways to survive. Throughout my Father’s life he ran with numerous sketchy people. I didn’t think much of it when I was much smaller, but as I aged, I began to question the likes of many of them. My counselor had asked me at one point if I thought that my Father was involved with some of these underworld people. Oddly enough, I’d never entertained the idea, but the more that I thought about it and the more I thought about all the many characters that I’d spent time with when around my Father made me think…there might be something to that.

The time in my life when I was starting to see many of these people come around was when my Father owned his own body shop. He was an excellent mechanic and an amazingly talented painter. He built numerous vehicles from what seemed to be just a pile of junk. Such talent. The world of cars brings about some interesting people. The “average Joe”, as well as others that were looking for something. The man that would end up taking me under his tutelage was a “friend” of my Fathers. He came around the shop on a regular basis and always had an interesting story to tell. He’d come there at times with his brother, that I would later learn was the “enforcer” of his operation. I’m not sure how I fell into the trap other than the idea of making easy money at a time when money was getting scarce and food was running low. This man offered a better life for me, I just needed to learn a few things. This started out pretty easy, but quickly progressed into an ugliness that would make me hate every male that I’d come in contact with. I was so angry as time went that if I was called upon to harm someone, as long as it was a male, I was all for it. Anger and hatred built up inside of me as the years went on. I’ve said before that when you run in a world like this, there are no friends…especially with men.

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There were others that came around the shop that left me confused. We also ventured out to get parts from places and I’d be introduced to all the guys that ran these places. There was one in particular that sticks in my brain to this day. He ran a large auto parts junk yard. He’d been sent to jail years earlier, but whatever he was caught up in managed to keep his mouth shut while in prison. When he got out, he was rewarded with a rather large payday for his obedience. We’d go there to see about some parts and I’d end up wandering around looking through all of the wrecked vehicles piled everywhere to see if I could find hidden treasures. I’d always come out of there with a pocket full of change. We also went to visit another “friend” of his that ran several mini markets, among other things. His name was Charlie and he was actually a loan shark and bookie. Being around all of these dark and scary people was a lot to process. Then there were the cops. Like most kids, I was raised to believe that a police officer is someone that I should go to and trust. I learned that they are just humans like all of us. They don’t wear capes, there’s no giant “S” (Superman) on their front. They’re flawed and many are just as dirty and ugly as the men that were doing all the worst things.

If you stop to think about that as a child, or even now as an adult, it makes you feel kind of isolated. If something goes wrong, or you need help, who do you turn to? When you see something horrible can you trust the person wearing the badge anymore than the person committing the crimes? That’s what I was faced with as a young teen. Good and bad blended together into an ugly shade of gray. When you see the people that you know are friends with your father showing up at the bar that you’re stationed at, shaking hands and receiving “things” from the man that is teaching you how to skirt the law, it makes you throw all trust out the window. All of my thoughts, all of my feelings had to be kept inside. To share anything would certainly bring my young life to an end. This…is one of the main reasons that I struggle to this very day to maintain a friendship with a male.

The other part of this is that I was raised in a home with all sisters, three to be exact. I’d already been privy to how woman were treated more as a commodity than a human. So, I think it’s safe to say that I was slightly over protective of my own flesh and blood. To sit and witness different men come into each of my sister’s world that were so unworthy of their space and air was painful. I found ways to get even with as many as I could using my own resources. I’d casually stated to a few of them that I’d happily make them disappear if any harm came to my sister. This mindset is something that has also stayed with me throughout my life. I remain a vigilante of sorts for the rights and protection of women. I can’t stand by idle and watch, or be a part of any kind of impropriety that brings harm to a woman. Some of the ugliest fights or beating that I’ve taken have been from getting involved in a domestic violence situation. The worst was when I was trying to “save” a young lady outside of a bar that was being punched by her boyfriend. I started fighting with him and the next thing I know, she was on my back punching my head. Yep, that happened. It hasn’t changed my view of women, and I’d still stand up to anyone that attempts to harm a female in my presence. Character matters in my worlds.

I’ve had run ins with women over the years and two failed marriages to women that I knew who and what they were, I just felt that I could “save” them. Perhaps provide the normalcy that they desired in their world. Protection, love and happiness. It didn’t work out that way, but I’ve learned more life lessons in the process. I still trust females much more. Throughout my life they’ve always engaged in much better conversation. They nurture the relationship in a fashion that only a female can do. There have been so many that I’ve had the pleasure of sharing time, stories and friendship with over the years. I still, as you all know have numerous females in my orbit that are special to me. I think with coming through all of my darkness has also helped me to allow these friendships to happen, and with less of the feelings like “what are they looking for.” I continue to say that I’m a work in progress and it’s so very true. I do have a few male friends now, they unfortunately have/had a harder road to being around me. My wall stands tall when it comes to males, that’s still the case. I was asked the other day “what caused my PTSD?” I just said simply “I’ve seen too much.”

I want to say thanks to all of you that have had such open and interesting discussions about the topic of friendship. I’d like to take a moment to give a shout out to the females that surround me in my life now. This includes my sisters, because without them, I’d have no identity. Leanna knows (The Gray Man) I’ll keep writing and yes, the idea of a book is definitely on my horizon. I want to sit and tell you all everything, from start to finish. All the details, all the run ins, all the tears and loneliness. But more than anything, tell you how I found my way out and survived. Some stories just need to be written.

I’ve attached the lyrics of a song that really hits home with me. It’s called “waking up the ghosts” by the band 10 years. Listen and you’ll understand me just that much more.

Thank you so much for following along.

~Robert~

No one knows
The secrets that I keep
No one knows
What’s in my head
I can’t control
The other side of me
I have lost my breath
Breaking
The pulse of a steady beat
Pleading for sanity
The voices calling out my name
Now I’m afraid
That I am waking up the ghost
Not digging up the memories
That were dead to me
Now, now I’m getting close
Closer to the enemy
That’s inside of me
Under the skin
The soul of the guilty
Under the surface
Lonely lies
Under the weight
The sin is
Eating me alive
No mercy
No forgiveness
Condemn to my own hell
The voices calling out my name
Now I’m afraid
That I am waking up the ghost
Not taking out the memories
That were dead to me
Now, now I’m getting close
Closer to the enemy that’s inside of me
I am waking up the ghost
And digging up the memories
That were dead to me
I am waking up the ghost
And digging up the memories
That were dead to me
Now, Now I’m getting close
Closer to the enemy
That’s inside of me

Do We Ever Really Know Someone?

January 10, 2025January 12, 2025 / Zombie / Leave a comment

Once again this came about through numerous discussions. Do we ever really know someone? It’s an honest question that deserves to be looked into. I’ll share my feelings and then just leave the rest up to all of you to ponder. My take may be a touch different because of my background, but I’m sure there will be some similarities. Along with my thoughts of life and death, came the ever nagging question that I’ve posed as the title of this blog, Do we ever really know someone?

I’ll take a quick trip into the past to give perspective on why I feel the way that I do, or at least why I feel like I do at times. When you’re in the darker side of life and doing things that run well below law abiding, you need to be, or present yourself in a certain manner. The reason is simple, you want to stay alive. I’ve shared before that I was trained to be an observer of other humans. I was also taught to show nothing about myself. What I would show others, was only what I wanted them to see. I was able to roll through my entire high school life without a single soul knowing anything about me. Stop and think about that for a minute. Put yourself back in Junior high or High school and think about how people were. How social, how tight different “cliques” were. All the things that kids are supposed to do at that age. Now imagine being part of something so awful that if you so much as whisper a word of it, you could die. That’s what I carried back in those days. I had to put myself out there as a quiet, shy, ordinary kid. I find humor at some of the things that people wrote in my yearbook. They really had no idea, because I didn’t let them know.

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We all have it in us to be less than truthful. We use our skills acquired in life to hide, or perhaps shield others from truths. In my case, I didn’t want to be truthful because there could be harm brought to anyone who might know my position. “Loose lips sink ships.” Loose lips also get people killed. I became a nonentity. Funny how even now at work I always tell people around me that I’m “nobody.” There’s truth to that statement even though I’m smiling when I say it. I learned to fade into the backdrop, to not be seen, to blend in. If I felt that someone was getting too close, or had a feeling that they might suspect something, I quickly got into the wind. Deception is something that is used, especially in the surroundings that I found myself in. These blogs are probably the most honest things that have ever come out of my body. There’s healing for me in writing all of this. You’re getting to know Zombie a.k.a. Robert. In some cases, for the very first time.

So, do you feel that you really know a person? Are you close with your family members? Perhaps you have a best friend that you tell all your secrets to. Do you feel that you really know one another? I’m not trying to make everyone paranoid, it’s just something that has come to pass in my journey in this world. I think deeply at times and this is a topic that intrigues me. Why do we not want others to know everything about us? My counselor Amy knows the most and we still work towards a full disclosure. I know that with more time and work, writing, I’ll be able to spill all that needs to be spilled. As I age, I process things differently, so there’s hope that I can see things through a fresh lens.

How about this. I’ve always said that when you meet someone, whether it’s social, work related, or a dating prospect. The person that you meet at the beginning is the “representative.” They’re most likely showing you the very best that they feel they can be. It’s a show of sorts, acting. I like to wait and see what they do when no one is looking. How they interact with others, especially when they’re comfortable. Listen intently when people talk. You’ll hear much of who they are in conversations, especially as time goes by. How they view the world and others is important. Let’s not forget animals! If someone hates dogs and cats you need to run, not walk away from them…lol!

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Being a voyeur who was trained to pay attention to subtle details of other humans has gifted me the ability to spot frauds. In some cases I spot them and just allow them to be in my general area. It’s more of a “I want to see how far they’ll take things” action. There are some who, when I spot them, I call out right to their face. It’s a dangerous practice, and can lead to altercations, so I’m mindful about doing this at this point in my life. There are people who I feel have genuine goodness about them, and I want them in my “orbit.” Time is the key to all of this.

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You see, humans are so very fascinating. The way in which we socialize and maneuver through the world captures my attention all the time. I feel that it’s only fair that if I’m constantly assessing people around me, that I should be more open about myself, and here we are! This is what I’ve learned over the past few years with my counselor. I must embrace the darkness that has served me in my life. I am learning to accept some of my “abilities” that I’ve acquired as a part of me, rather than trying to distance myself from them, or erase my past. I’m also learning to show other humans who and what I really am. I know that not everyone will understand, or perhaps not want to be around me, and that’s o.k. While I do this, I try to bring attention to all the things that make me who I am. How I question everything and why I’m always guarded with my feelings. I think in the end, if you ask the question “do we ever really know someone?” If it comes to me, I’d like the answer to be, Yes.

Thank you for following along on my journey…

~Robert~

Embracing Life: Finding Joy Amidst Mortality

January 3, 2025 / Zombie / Leave a comment

Big topic today. This has been rolling around in my head a bunch. I wasn’t really sure how I wanted to approach it because I have views that not everyone will be comfortable with. The topic is death. Well, life and death. The approach that we take to things during our life and what influence it might have is a part of this. The end result is the same for all of us, we will die one day. What happens after that is open to much interpretation. I’ll do my best to get this to all make sense…so, hang on.

We roll through our lives at such a high rate of speed at times that it’s almost overwhelming. I do my best to slow things down and really take in all of the subtleties. That wasn’t always the case. I think we can all agree that when we’re younger, our focus is not so much on how long we’ll live, but how much fun we can cram into the shortest amount of time. The other side of that is that as we age, we find that we appreciate everything much more, including time, and our health. There needs to be a balance there of sorts. We need to stay young in our thinking so that we continue to try to do the things that make us happy. As adults, we tend to get caught up in the whole rat race and fall into ruts. Going through the motions of waking up, working, going to sleep…rinse and repeat. LOL! Now I know that things do go on in between that, but how much? What things are you still trying to do that make you truly happy inside?

I’ve always felt that work is nothing more than a means to an end. It provides me money so that I can pay my bills, eat and survive, so it’s kind of important. There was a point in my life when I was searching for some kind of “career”, and doing what I could to climb the company ladder. I found that it gave me no real satisfaction, in fact, it probably caused even more unwanted stress in my life. Trying to find the “it” that your boss was looking for. Adjusting your life to the ever changing whim of an employer is just exhausting. Do yourself a favor, do the job that is expected of you so that you can collect the check that you need, and nothing more. If you leave, or die tomorrow, the employer won’t give a rat’s rump. You’ll just be replaced by some other soul and the game will continue. I’ve always been willing to do what is required of me and I do it to the best of my abilities each and every day. That should thrill any employer on the planet. I show up, work hard, and I leave. I don’t create drama, I just get things done.

When I was younger, things looked different to me. I wasn’t sure that I’d make it past the age of 30 and that was actually a number a little higher than what I was really thinking. I didn’t enjoy my life that much and was always searching for “something.” Mostly a way out of the life that I’d fallen into. It was during those years that I was focused on surviving, yet had no fear of dying. I mean really, when you reach a certain point, dying is much easier than surviving. It takes a lot of work to survive in this world and you have to be willing to go through the struggles to make it. I had some friends, had a girlfriend or two back then, but nothing substantial. I was going through the motions and surviving. The change was coming though.

Being an adult and finding my way in the world became interesting. My desire to be a better person happened overnight and made a profound change in how I viewed the world. I always hope that others find a similar path, or at least some kind of path to change for the better. Being trapped in darkness is no way to go through this world. Once I’d parted ways with some of the folks from earlier on, I took steps to do things the right way. Once I discovered running, oh man! Everything changed for me. It was like someone had turned on a light! I’m quite certain that I’ve said it enough times to make everyone crazy by now. Running was the one thing that truly saved my life. Does that happen for everyone that takes it up? I don’t know. I do know that I’ve met some interesting people along the way who had stated that running had performed some kind of miracle for them as well. Some walked away from drinking, others quit using recreational drugs. Some had found a way out of an abusive relationship. Running has done many things for many people throughout my life thus far. “Running never takes more than it gives.” For real…

When out running, or walking, I’ve learned to really take things in. As I’ve stated before, I’m very much a voyeur in this world and running opened my eyes to things that were so moving, and profound, it could move you to tears. Sunrises and sunsets are always a favorite. Flocks of birds flying in unison can be remarkable. The sounds of the seasons…be it ever changing, each season has its own sounds and smells that must be taken in. These are the things that remind me of what an amazing planet I live on and how wonderful it is to be alive. I find every mile that I spend out on the road to be beneficial in some manner. I can leave all of my troubles or worries out there, and trade them for something better. It’s a gift to be able to run, or walk for hours. I look forward to every single time I walk out the door. Wondering what life has to show me today.

Now that I’ve thrown all of that out there. There’s a part of me that wonders how much time I have left. Is this mid-life crisis coming on? I’ve just had these feeling that I need to see and do so much, like it’s all coming to an end. I’ve not been diagnosed with some awful disease that’s prompted this, I just suddenly decided that it was time to really focus on all of the small things. Once I started having these feelings, I began reading articles that talked about the end of life. The most talked about thing that people said towards the end was “they wished they had more time.” I don’t even know how much time I have left at this point, but I feel that way already. Knowing that I still have to work to continue to support my existence makes me feel like it’s time wasted. I’ve worked hard on changing my perspective on this and trying to enjoy my job more. Not so much the job, but more the people that work by my side. I’m working harder on forming bonds with them – not something that’s been my strongest attribute. I’ve decided that if I have to be in the place, I need to make it a better place to be in. An extended home if you will. Don’t ever do the math on how much of your life you’ve spent or are spending at work, it’s depressing…lol! Yeah, I did that.

Along with these feelings about my end of life, I wonder what impression I’ve made, if any on others. I keep a pretty small circle around me, so it makes me wonder what, if anything will be remembered about me. When I leave this earth, will anything that I wrote touch someone after I’m gone? Will the conversations that I’ve shared stay in someone’s memory until they to leave this earth? I know it’s heavy stuff, but you really can’t manage how and when things are going to pop into your head. Here’s a hard one to explain. I’ve always felt that we truly walk this earth alone. I think at this point that was brought about by the damage that I suffered earlier in my life. Keeping so much of myself silent and hidden continues to bleed into so much of my thinking. I want to break that feeling and cherish all of the small things. If I’m at work, I want to have good, meaningful conversations with my co-workers. I’d like to perhaps leave my mark on them, so that when they no longer have me around, they’ll speak kindly of me and perhaps share a story of my silliness. I want this with my family as well. We’ve spent so many years fractured, that I want to make the best of whatever’s left. I think I can get there.

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Reason, Season and Lifetime. This is a poem that for many years I had on the front of my refrigerator. It has to do with the different ways that people come in and then go out of your life. It gives perspective, and reassurance that they don’t always leave your life because of something you did. They simply served the purpose that they were meant to. I’ll drop it on here:

People come into your life for a reason,
A season or a lifetime.
When you know which one it is, you will
Know what to do for that person.
When someone is in your life for a
REASON, it is usually to meet a
Need you have expressed. They have come to
assist you through a difficulty, to provide
you with guidance and support, to aid you
physically, emotionally, or spiritually.
They may seem like a godsend and they are.
They are there for the reason you need them to
be. Then, without any wrongdoing on your
part or at and inconvenient time, this person
will say or do something to bring the
relationship to an end. Sometimes they die.
Sometimes they walk away. Sometimes they
act up and force you to take a stand. What
we must realize is that our need has been
met, our desire fulfilled, their wake is done.
The prayer you sent up has been answered
and now it is time to move on.
Some people come into your life for a
SEASON, because your turn has come to
share, grow or learn. They bring you an
experience of peace or make you laugh.
They may teach you something you have never
done. They usually give you an unbelievable
amount of joy. Believe it, it is real.
But only for a season.
LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons,
things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional
foundation. Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person and
put what you have learned to use in all other
relationships and areas of your life. It is said that love is
blind but friendship is clairvoyant.

I feel that this poem helps me to understand many of the relationships that I’ve had over the years. It also gives me vision for how some of them might end in the future. There are so many things that I still don’t understand. The only thing that I’m sure of at this time is that I want to live the rest of my life to the fullest. The loss of my mother was a changing point in my life as well. She lived with so much regret about her own life that it made me sad for her. My father was much the same. He chose to push away so many who were close to him that when he became immobile, he was bitter at the world, and felt that no one was left to care about him. Watching them in their final stages of life gave me pause. I needed to change directions so that I wouldn’t have the same fate or feelings. Death will certainly find us all, but we can do our best to dance and sing until it arrives. Be joyful in our own skin, and walk each day as though it really matters…because it does.

In closing I’ll just say this. Nothing is more important than your happiness. Find what it is that truly makes you happy and go do it. Talk, laugh and sing with those that you surround yourself with as often as you can. If you must sit at work, than do everything you can to make it more enjoyable for yourself. It might even carry over into others. Who knew that work could be a fun place to be? When death comes for me, I want to smile at it, and say it’s alright now, I’ve done everything that I came here to do.

I’ll see you on the other side…

~Robert~

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.

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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~

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~

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.

Photo by u0410u043bu0435u0441u044c u0423u0441u0446u0456u043du0430u045e on Pexels.com

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

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~

From Darkness to Light: Overcoming Internal Struggles

October 10, 2024October 10, 2024 / Zombie / Leave a comment

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.

Photo by Jean Marc Pampuch on Pexels.com

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 zombie file

Life seen through the eyes of Zombie

writing

Why I Prefer Female Friends: An Exploration

Do We Ever Really Know Someone?

Embracing Life: Finding Joy Amidst Mortality

My Path to Healing

Don’t Fix Me

Mirror Mirror…

The depth of human emotions through the eyes

The Price of Survival

Beautifully Broken

From Darkness to Light: Overcoming Internal Struggles