Depression Is Very Real and Very Painful

I wish I had the words to convey just how physically painful depression truly is.  Note that I said “is” and not “can be” because depression IS very real and very painful.

This became very real to me on August 11, 2014 with the news that the “happiest man on Earth”, Robin Williams, had committed suicide and had battled depression for most of his life.

Since the age of 12, I knew something was wrong with me but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was.  I would feel sad for no reason.  I would go for days with no energy to do anything.  I spent most of my waking hours harboring the idea of suicide, and my dreams were dark and filled with death images. It hurt to breathe.  It felt as though I was about to implode very slowly.  The pain just wouldn’t go away.

I tried to talk with my parents about how I was feeling and their response to me was “Stop feeling sorry for yourself!”  The fact was, I didn’t feel sorry for myself at all…I hated being alive!  My mind SCREAMED at me constantly. No words, just screaming!

When I was 16, I got a .38 caliber revolver from a friend with the intent of making the screaming stop.  My friend called someone to come talk to me.  That person told me “Be a MAN! REAL men don’t do this kind of crap!”  Yeah, very helpful.  So I took up drinking to dull the screams and to ease the constant pain from the slow implosion. But no matter how much I drank, the screaming was always there and so was the crushing pain.

When I was 25, I sat in the corner of a dark hotel room with a .45 and another in an endless string of bottles of vodka.  I drank most of the bottle, put the pistol in my mouth and pulled the trigger knowing there would be a split second of searing pain before the darkness took me and the the pain and screaming stopped.  Instead, all I got was *click*.  So I racked another round, put the pistol to my head and got another *click*.  Disgusted, I racked a third round, aimed it at the window and the window disappeared.  Thank goodness it was one of those old Motor Hotels in the Southwest where no one was around for miles.  Next morning, I paid for the window.

I am now, well beyond 25 years old, and I can tell you I have tried pills, knives, and car exhaust.  But I am either meant to endure more of the crushing and screams, or I really suck at trying to die.  But the pain is still very real and the screams still resound.

 

I’m Just Weird That Way

I have tried.  I have tried many times, and have failed miserably each time.  I like to eat. I’m just weird that way.  I like to eat and I’m not ashamed to say it.

The issue I have with so called “nutrition plans” is that I am a simple guy.  The plans I have seen require that you calculate more equations than a physicist trying to define string theory!

• How many carbs did you have?
• Were they good carbs or bad carbs?
• How many good carbs versus bad carbs?
• Did you exercise today?
• How many steps did you take?
• How fast were you stepping?
• How much protein is in that salad?
• Did you have cheese on that salad?
• Thank you for posting the picture of the salad.  Is that BACON I see on your salad?
• Did you eat it?
• Did you eat ALL of it?
• Did it make you feel dirty?
• How dirty?
• What were you wearing?

You see how these things can degrade into something other than helpful.

As I said, I am a simple guy, and I like simple food.  I eat salad.  No onions, peppers, or dressing.  I like cheeseburgers without condiments or vegetables added.  The only condiment I use with any regularity is black pepper.  I like rice, most beans, lentils, barley, beef, most pork, chicken, and some fish.  I am from the Southern United States and, yes, buttery grits, eggs and bacon with biscuits are staples.  I don’t mind oatmeal though.

The difficulty I have with changing my eating habits is everyone has a different plan and they are all “easy” (like hemorrhoids) and want me to STOP eating most of the things I like and START eating things I wouldn’t feed a pig.  Let me be very blunt: If I don’t like it, I will NOT be putting it in my mouth! End of story.

Why can’t someone come up with an eating plan that actually takes inventory of what I like to eat, and make a plan from that list?  Is that REALLY so hard?

Cookie-cutter eating plans do NOT work for me and the Energizer Bunny types who push their plans or “Eating Systems” annoy me enough to want to see them fall into a hole liked with barbed wire!

Keep it simple or shut up!

 

 

Rant over for now.

Resolutions? Really!

It’s that time of year again.  That time when we take a look at our lives and decide to make changes in the coming year.  It is a pointless exercise for most of us because we very quickly lose momentum, get distracted, or just forget what we resolved to accomplish altogether.

So why do we resolve to make changes when we have failed again and again to the point that we just shrug our shoulder, laugh and say “Well, there’s always next year”?

Here is a bit of wisdom that I have garnered regarding Resolutions:

1. Change cannot be contradictory. If you are determined to lose weight, go to the gym, stress less, and spend more time with family, then, while all these SOUND wonderful in and of themselves, they are really quite self-defeating.  Losing weight requires dietary changes and exercise changes.  Change CREATES stress!  And stress tends to cause us to isolate ourselves from our families.  Not to mention you will have the fitness gurus screaming at you that “It’s EASY IF YOU JUST TRY!” or the ever famous “If I can do it, YOU can do it!”.  Ever notice that most of the fitness gurus who do most of the screaming and wielding of the guilt stick are the ones who are thin and have the energy of the Eveready Bunny?  Very seldom do you have people who are just as out of shape as you are asking to become part of a team so you can lose weight together.  Hmmmmm….
2. Change must be achievable.  Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that one of my resolutions is to eat healthier.  Sounds good, but what does “healthier” really look like?  Does that mean I go from eating cheeseburgers every day to nibbling on celery instead?  Yeah, THAT resolution will last.  Set goals that are achievable.  Healthier eating might mean you have salad instead of fries and drink two bottles of water for every soda you consume.
3. Change must be enjoyable. I have people in my life who are dead set on setting my changes for me.  Not only that, but they never miss an opportunity to remind me of the changes THEY have “encouraged” me to make.  Here’s the way change works for me, if I don’t like it, I won’t do it.  This applies to eating habits, exercise habits, work habits, any change I need to make.  If it feels like slavery, that change will not last long and I will become resentful of those pushing me.
4. Change works best as a team.  This is true in pretty much any format.  Get a bunch of people who are pretty much in the same situation and you have a team.  If the team sets a goal, then the team can make the goal a reality.  Encouraging each other, being accountable to each other, working together, pretty much any goal can be realized.
5. Change will only happen when I make a plan I can stick to. I am NOT a morning person by ANY stretch of the imagination.  I have absolutely NO inclination to drag myself out of bed before daylight so I can go to the gym and torture myself while my brain is trying to make my body die so rest can be had.  So if my resolution is to get to the gym, then I must make a plan to do it.  Therefore, I can go to the gym instead of stuffing pizza in my face at lunch, or I can go when I hit that mid afternoon slump and just need a think.  If I make a plan that my mind can work with, the resolution can become a reality.
6. Change can only work if you are willing to forgive yourself.  When we start making changes, we’re going to slip up!  We’re going to miss a day at the gym.  We’re going to indulge our craving for meat once in a while.  But if we beat ourselves up over these slip-ups, or worse let others beat us up over them, the guilt will destroy any hope of lasting change.  If we mess up, okay, we messed up….get back on track and try to make the time a little longer before we mess up again.
7. Change can only happen if it is realistic.  We’ve all heard the fantastic claims by the “Healthy Eating/Exercise” companies who peddle their powders and machines and supplements and “systems.”  They all claim that you can have the body you always wanted in just a few months if you will only go broke, sign over your life, and surrender everything to them (and if you help generate more followers of their cult, you can “get rich” too).  Listen, the body I have always wanted is currently being occupied by someone else who doesn’t know I exist, so let’s just put that puppy to rest.  The body I currently have could use a bit of renovation, but nothing drastic.  After all, Rome wasn’t rebuilt in a day or a month or even a year.

Hopefully you will join me in welcoming the new year with realistic, achievable resolutions!

Those Aren’t My Pants, Officer!

A 38 year-old male lives in a small camper trailer in his mother’s driveway, has no job, doesn’t not want to do anything with his life, and tells his mother that it’s NOT his fault because he’s disabled.  Now before judgement is passed, understand that this claim of being “disabled” is a recent claim he has made and there is no documentation or substantiation to this claim.  Prior to this sudden revelation, he would get a part time job, keep it for about 6 months and suddenly “lose” the job through, amazingly, no fault of his own and then he would collect unemployment.  Once unemployment ran out, the cycle would repeat itself over and over and over for 20 years.  But nothing is his fault!

We are very good at declaring, and believing, that nothing is our fault, that we bear no responsibility for any of our actions or words.  The liar is not responsible for his lies, no matter who they hurt or whose reputation or life is destroyed, because he claims it’s not his fault he spoke without checking the truth.

The drunk driver who kills someone claims it’s not his fault because the bar served him the alcohol or because his mommy and daddy never taught him the difference between right and wrong.

If we are truly not responsible for our deeds and words then who is?

Here’s what I witnessed when I went as a civilian ridealong with one of my friends who is a police officer.  A young male was pulled over for a traffic violation (failure to stop at a stop sign).  The officer approached the car (while I stayed put in the car watching the dash cam recording).  The officer stated that there is the strong smell of marijuana and alcohol coming from the car and asks the young man to exit the vehicle.  The young man gets out, the officer does a “pat down” to check for weapons but finds almost 1/4 of a pound bag of marijuana in the young man’s front pocket.  The following conversation ensued:

Officer: “Is this yours?”

Young Man:“Dude, ain’t never seen that before! These ain’t even my pants.”

Officer: “Not your pants? Then whose are they?”

Young Man: “Dude, I was at a party and when I got ready to hit the road I just picked them up and put them on.”

Officer: “But you don’t know whose pants these are?”

Young Man: “No Sir! I have NO idea whose pants these are or how that weed got in my pocket.”

Officer: “So they’re not your pants but the pockets are yours?”

Young Man: “Nah Man! Ain’t my pants!”

Officer: “Help me out here…you went to a party where pants are not allowed or were you there as a male stripper or what kind of party was it?”

Young Man: “Nah man! These are my cousin’s pants.  Yeah, these are my cousin’s pants.”

Officer: “What’s your cousin’s name?”

Young Man: “Ah man, I don’t know her name!”

Officer: “So you’re wearing ladies pants?”

This conversation went on for half an hour until another officer came on scene to assist.  Eventually, it was discovered that the name tag sewn into the waistband of the pants was the same name as the young man and the same name on the ID card he had provided.  But the young man continued to blame everyone else for his actions instead of stepping up and taking responsibility.

When I was growing up, my Dad taught me very early on that if I did something wrong, I needed to take responsibility for it.  If I did it, and took responsibility for it, the punishment (which was painful) would be a LOT less than if I lied about it.  Granted, I had to learn this lesson the hard way, but it only took once.

Yet taking responsibility for our words and deeds is still something our society refuses to accept.  We love playing the “Blame Game.”

 

I’m THAT Guy!

I’m not handsome.  I’m not athletic. I’m not outgoing.  I’m not gregarious.  I’m not anyone who would stand out.  I’m not the person who would garner attention.  I’m not the person anyone would pay attention to.  Yeah….I’m THAT guy.  Invisible!

Yet while I may be invisible, I notice things.  I see patterns.  I hear the whisperings.  I notice the subtle.  Because I’m that guy that no one takes into account, I am also a fountain of knowledge and information.  When you dramatically tell someone how much they mean to you and then tell others what a complete idiot they are…I hear and take notice.

When you think no one sees, I’m that guy who notices.  You see, to the popular crowd, I don’t matter.  To some, I don’t even exist.  But I notice.  I listen. I make a mental note.  I see.

I know how you are.  I know what you do.  I see when you don’t want people to see.  No, I’m not a pervert…it’s because you don’t think I matter enough to care.

I notice that the melodramatic responses are lies in disguise.  I notice that you use people.  I notice that you think I’m not worth your time because I’m introverted.  I notice that I don’t “fit in” because I’m socially awkward.  I take special note when you try to intimidate me because you think I’m a push over.

I’m a LOT smarter than I appear.  I am MUCH more observant than you want me to be.  And I am NOT invisible just because you don’t think I’m worth your time.

Yeah….I’m THAT guy!

 

 

AHHHhhhhhhh…….

There was a time when I had not a concern in the world….and then I was born.  It’s amazing the things I found to be stressful as a child.  Having to make new friends at school was absolutely terrifying for me, being an introvert.  Having to learn math and spelling and grammar and history and learning to deal with the cliques….it was stressful, to say the least, and led to many sleepless nights.

These anxieties continued throughout my school years, with the inclusion of having to learn geometry, trigonometry, calculus, the sciences, foreign languages, more clearly defined cliques.  Life had become quite the challenge.  Most days I didn’t want to even get out of bed, but if I didn’t get out of bed, I wouldn’t go to school and if I didn’t go to school, I would have to endure it all again next year with a whole new pool of people.

FINALLY, I managed to graduate high school!  The sense of freedom was incredible…until my parents gave me the choice of going to college, joining the military, or getting a job. So off to college I went.  The first year was the absolute worst, again because of being an introverted introvert.  It’s not that I didn’t like people and wasn’t sociable….I was just extremely awkward around people and even more so in social situations.  But I put on my calm face and followed Shakespeare’s “Henry V” by going “Once more into the breach”.

Throughout the bits of my life that I remember, I was seeking to be absent from the world by finding that place where could fit in and be accepted.

Fast forward through the misery that was college and the 8 years of military and a divorce and I now find myself still seeking that place where I can find peace and fit in.  While I have no clue where to find it, I do know what sort of place it is that I feel most at peace.

I like quiet.  I like the environment to be of cool climate.  I like a gentle breeze.  I would like something of a stream or other water.  In a place like this, I could find peace.  There would be no expectation of having to deal with others.

I once thought such a place truly existed.  But am now not so sure.  If it does exist, it is beyond my reach at present and the feeling out of place in this world continues.

Encourage Me…Don’t Tick Me Off!

I need to lose some weight. And I need to move more…I get it.  Way back when I was in the Army, I didn’t have a problem with weight loss or moving more because we all moved as a squad.  Rather an “All for one and one for all” arrangement.  We encouraged each other and if one needed something we ALL took the burden on.

That was then.  I honestly miss those days quite a bit because that tight-knit group of comrades has long since gone their ways, have their own families, and lives.  So here I am trying to go it alone with the moving and the weightloss without their support.

I have begun changing some of my eating habits, mainly because I like simple foods.  By simple, I mean, as little effort as possible.  I eat my salads without dressing because I discovered that most of the fat content in the salads is found in the dressing, but mainly because I just don’t like salad dressing.  I opt not to use condiments, except for a pinch of salt or pepper, because I want to actually taste the FOOD not just have a mouthful of condiment guck!

I do have friends and family members who believe they are being helpful in their methods of “encouragement.”  While I do appreciate their desire to help me become healthier, their methods are reminiscent of Drill Sergeant Hartman from ‘Full Metal Jacket’ or they nag continuously.  Neither approach is what I consider encouraging because the only motivation I get from that is to let my stubborn bull-headedness dig in its heals and tune them out.

When I was with my Squadmates, we all started in the same basic shape of, in military terms: “out of.”  Together, we began from basically the same starting point, and together we worked our weight down and our shape in.  And it worked perfectly, like a greased herd of hogs through the arms of the catchers at a County Fair were we.

Now I am older and my job requires little movement because it involves mostly brain work and listening.  And I honestly admit that I have become “comfortable” with my life.  I like SIMPLE!

I have people trying to show me how to count calories and then count the calories of proteins, carbs, fats, sugars, measure cholesterol intake, waste output, multiply it by .247 times the distance from the Sun to Uranus, swing that flaming mossy branch over the smelly shoe inserts……you get how my mind finds this quite overly complicated.  I like SIMPLE!  By “SIMPLE” I mean: I like it, I eat it, I’m done!  Don’t complicate things, just fix it and be done!

This is why I am NOT a nutritionist.  Nor am I an exercise nut.  I am willing to walk as long as I enjoy doing it.  When it becomes a chore, I stop.  NO! I’m not all gung-ho about pushing myself.  Yes, I realize I am going to die, at some point, because we ALL do.  So guilt no longer works on me; pushing no longer works on me; nagging no longer works on me.

If I like it, I will eat it.  If I like it, I will do it.  It’s JUST THAT SIMPLE!

I’m NOT Weird! Well….Perhaps I Am. But Just A Bit!

I like people, generally speaking.  Some I find more tolerable than others.  Some of the more gregarious ones tend to make me feel completely exhausted, and also arouse my suspicions as to their sincerity.

You see, I am very much an Introvert! I am quiet, by nature, and prefer to observe rather than lead.  I notice….oh yes, I notice more than I say.  Didn’t think anyone saw you picking your nose during staff meeting? Yeah, I noticed.  Didn’t think anyone heard you belch into your napkin so delicately pretending to sneeze?  Yeah, I noticed that too.  Not much subtlety escapes my notice, I just don’t feel the need to voice it.

I like to sit quietly and read or write.  Whilst engaged in this pasttime, I am still quietly noticing.  I use reflective surfaces as mirrors, so I noticed you adjusting your “unmentionables”.  My ears are sensitive and hear your whispers.

No, I am not some creepy prowler.  I am just a quiet observer.  I like working by myself.  I like spending as much time being quiet as I possibly can.  Loud people who are loud just for he sake of being loud or in an effort to be “intimidating” piss me off.  Just because I am quiet does not, by any stretch, mean that I am weak or afraid.  I am calculating when I must be.

I like thinking things through.  Granted, not all of my thoughts work as imagined, but I learn from that and file it away for next time.  I am constantly learning; constantly thinking; constantly observing.  My mind wakes me up at night because it wants more input when my body wants sleep.

Because I am constantly thinking, I am also caring.  I am a wonderful listener.  I enjoy spending one-to-one time.  I do have friends, but my true friends are a very small and tight knit group.  I like to vacation to places that are off the beaten path.  I like to sing in the car (partly because I sing very badly but mainly because I feel comfortable when alone in the car).  I am perfectly comfortable sitting in silence.

I am an Introvert, not anti-social.  I may be an Introvert, but I also have feelings.

I am an Introvert!  And you cannot change that about me, so please don’t try!

Time….It’s What You Make Of It

Truly it is an amazing, and often astounding, sight to see people rushing through their lives completely oblivious to everything except their electronic devices and their schedules.  You see, time is a continuum whilst our lives are momentary snapshots of that continuum.

This is a lesson I learned many years ago when I chose to spend my time reading a book, and one of my professors happened by and commented on my “wasting time” in reading a tome that sparked my brain to think.  I like to think.  I embrace it wholeheartedly.  Never have I thought that thinking was a waste of time because time does not change or alter its stream for me or anything I am doing.

Granted, there are scenes in life’s grand play where time seems to stand still….like waiting to be called from the big waiting room in the doctor’s office to the little waiting room (which is also called the “exam room”).  Then what happens?  Time goes into warp drive when the doctor comes him, spends a total of 4 minutes diagnosing you and off you go back into the stream of time.

As a child, I thought Christmas Eve made time stand still so Santa could make all of his deliveries by Christmas morning.  I didn’t, for one moment, believe Santa could go all over the world in a single night, so time HAD to stand still for him to accomplish such a Herculean Task.

There are those who say that Time is relative.  Well, I can assure you that time is no relative of mine.  My relatives are a rather gregarious mob, with a couple of introverted members, who enjoy raucous laughter and stories to embarrass the rest of us.

But think about this, why do we wear watches?  So we know what time it is.  Why do we need to know what time it is?  Because we have very busy schedules.  Sadly, those schedules have not slowed in the least, despite advances in technology.  And why do those people who can afford the latest technological gadgets always smile?  Also, what do they do that they can always afford the latest technological marvel?

But, you see, time never speeds up nor does it slow down.  Time always moves forward.

My question to you is this, Gentle Reader, during your time swimming in the stream of time, what shall you do to make it memorable?

A Word About Christmas……STOP ALREADY!

When I was a child, I loved the Christmas Season.  There was a chill in the air, so we got a crackling fire in the fireplace and hot chocolate.  We would go play in the snow until our appendages were numb then we would come warm up by the fire, before heading back out for more snow filled fun.

I remember the street light posts had Shimmering decorations put up by the city workers, who were not above wishing you a “Merry Christmas”.  But these workers wouldn’t dare put of the Christmas Decorations before Thanksgiving was done.  The stores would, at least, wait until November 1 before they started hammering home their “sales.”  People moved at a much slower pace back then.  We could park the car and walk to every store we needed to go and there was always plenty of parking.

I do remember one girl, from a rather well-to-do family, getting to take an extra week off at Christmas because they were going on a ski trip to someplace out West.  Wasn’t jealous of her, and actually none of us seemed to like her much because she was rather snooty and uppity.

I used to love the sights and smells of the Christmas Season and it would bring a smile to my face.  But that was then!

Today, you can’t even get to Labor Day before the Christmas onslaught of “BUY, BUY, BUY, SPEND, SPEND, SPEND” is shoved in your face at every turn.  And since when did a luxury automobile become a “Christmas Gift”?  All these merchants have had ALL YEAR to bolster their bottom lines, but they wait until Christmas to have the sales where people get so angry they start fist fights, kick children, steal things from the elderly person’s cart, and trample people to death (without a single twinge of remorse).  Christmas has turned from a Season of Giving to I Gots Tuh Git Mine So Sumbody Else Won’t!

The radio runs ruined Christmas Carols on a loop with the latest sensation adding their version of the song (complete with endless vocal aerobics).  The Internet and television are filled with people who put Santa hats on their none-too-happy pets and their “I haven’t a clue what’s going on” infants expecting all the world to tell them how adorable and cute the photos are.  Then there are those idiots who like to post videos of their hyped up children ripping through their gifts like sharks in a feeding frenzy, followed by further videos of the children fighting over who got what or tearing their gift up then demanding to know what else did they get.

Now I completely understand why many people prefer to spend the Christmas Season in a bar or someplace away Far From The Madding Crowd!

I used to like Christmas.  Now….Stop!  Just STOP!