writing

I’m compelled to write

/ Zombie / Leave a comment

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.

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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?

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

/ Zombie / Leave a comment

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!

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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.

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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~

We must bring our own light to the darkness

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My sister and I went on walkabout today. I couldn’t resist, beautiful blue skies, mild temps, it was a must. We headed out on one of my favorite routes that goes through the side of town we grew up in. It’s rough and depressed, but it’s still a part of me. People ask me all the time, “why do you still walk through there?” The answer is, I really don’t know. It’s still a part of me, I guess. I don’t fear for my safety or feel out of place. I’ve walked or driven those streets a million times and know them all very well. I can get around without ever having to look at a street sign. This has been a discussion with my counselor as well. There are so many bad memories there, why do I still go? Numerous discussions have been had about the subject, and I’m still searching for an answer that I can give, at least one that makes sense.

Once we reached an area that we spent a portion of our childhood in, I said “let’s go down this street and take a look at our old house.” It’s the home that we probably spent the most years in, but it kind of represents all the different houses we lived in. If anything, I had feelings of sadness seeing the house. It hasn’t changed a lot from the time we lived in it. Has a certain feeling of darkness. Not that all memories there were bad, but different. We moved around enough that nothing ever really felt like home. It seemed as though once we started to make “normal”, it was time to move on to the next spot. Something I didn’t understand as a child. Some homes seemed alright, so why were we moving again? I wouldn’t understand the answer to that question until I became an adult. Money and finances were not my parents’ strong suit. During these times they looked for homes that were considered buying “on land contract.” The intent was to stay, it just didn’t work out.

Walking past this particular house got us talking more about people that we knew in the neighborhood. I delivered papers on this street and knew pretty much everyone back then. Homes that my friends grew up in and areas we ran around in. It was always a little on the edge, but the look of it now really makes you sad. Numerous houses now gone, torn down, others in serious disrepair and looking almost unlivable. This expanded our conversation to include “what the hell happened to society?” How did we ever get to this? My brain would then go to, how are the kids on this street growing up now? I know the damage that came with my upbringing. What level of hurt would they have and pass on to others? Very deep and unsettling thoughts.

We continued on and worked our way through the area. Then headed towards the river. As you’d go, you could see a house here, and a house there that looked as though they were still trying to hold on. Like islands in a land of insanity. Small walled up fortresses standing their ground against the darkness. Do you think these people fear the night? Do they wonder if/when the tide will finally flood over them and take their island down into blackness? I know, they’re dark thoughts, but it’s real. Every block we go through has this same look. What can be done to stop the spread of this virus? How can we get it back to “normal” again? Questions that we can all ponder. I’ve always hoped that one day this side of town would find it’s way through and become full of life again.

More discussions. My Sis and I thought, if only people would communicate again. Maybe that’s part of the problem. Step away from social media and engage in realism. Maybe step outside of your small island and attempt to make things better with a neighbor. Pick things up, help others learn to be self-sufficient. Teach! Teach people to take pride in anything and everything they have. Conversations are the way. We need to be beacons of hope, rather than spreading sorrow. I’ve seen enough sorrow to last a lifetime, and then some. “We need to bring our own light to the darkness.” I like that. There’s an old saying “it takes a village.” I say this a lot at work. I treat my office in just this way. We work together with a goal of succeeding. If this is carried into these neighborhoods, and taught to those that want to live better, that want to raise their children in an environment that’ll breed happiness, and comfort, it should be done. What’s the alternative? I think we’re seeing it on full display all across this country. Neighborhoods and communities are dying.

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If you’re a fan of Harry Potter or The Hobbit series. You’ll probably be able to envision the darkness that I see at times. The blackness spreading and consuming everything in its path. While I see these things, I also know that I have it within myself to make better. Ask yourself what you can do that can make a positive change in the world. Then ask, how can I spread this positive mindset to others? We can turn the tide. We can push back the wave of blackness and make things right. I choose light over darkness. I choose right over wrong, good over evil. I choose to be Harry Potter or Bilbo Baggins! We need to be the heroes of our story and help others to do the same.

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“We need to bring our own light to the darkness.” Bring your light. Shine as long as you can and with everything you have. I refuse to give up. Perhaps that’s part of the answer as to why I still walk through my old neighborhoods. I’m trying to bring the light into the darkness.

As always, thanks for reading. I’ll get back with you all soon. I have much more to say on this topic and so many others.

I’ll see you on the road

~Zombie~

You are enough, your voice matters

/ Zombie / 1 Comment

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’ll see you on the road…

~Zombie~