Posts Tagged ‘Anxiety’

Graceful Dancing

Posted: May 16, 2015 in Absolute Truth, Abuse, Aging, America, Anxiety, Arguments, Atheism, Atheist, Bi-Polar, Bible, Blog, Blogging, Books, Brainwashed, Change, Charity, Charity Foundations, Christianity, Church, Community, Confessions, Coping, Corporate Culture, Crisis, Crooked Politicians, Culture, Death, Debates, Depression, Diary, Dilemma, Dreams, Duty of Care, Dying, Elderly, Emotional Abuse, Epic Battle, Ethics, Evil, Faith, Family, Fear, Forgiveness, God, Good, Good-byes, Greed, Grief, Haile Selassie, Insanity, Inside My Mind, Jesus, Journal, Lies and broken promises, Life, Lists, Living in fear, Logic, Love, Mania, Mental Health, Mental Illness, Minnesota, Misc, miscellaneous, Moral Theories, Morals, Motivation, Mourning, Nursing Homes, Opinion, Pain, Personal, Philosophy, Politics, Prayers, Progress, Psychosis, Quotes, Random, Random Thoughts, Rants, Reform, Rejection, Rights, Sadness, Self-esteem, Self-Help, Self-image, Social Debates, Social Injustices, Society, Sorrow, Spirituality, Stress, Suffering, Suicide, Suicide Note, The Bible, The Bucket List Foundation, The Philosophy of Quotes, Theology, TheRandomArtist, Thoughts, Treatment, Uncategorized, Unity, Verbal Abuse, Work, Work Environment, Writing
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The choice of letting go and saying goodbye is never easy, yet the decision to hold on is even harder. I have let go of hopes, dreams, relationships, redemption and written my goodbyes many times in the past, but every morning I regret my choices and my decisions to hold on… This was the beginning of the post I was working on last Saturday, what was to follow was going to be my final words then swallow every bit of medication I had and finally be at peace. Instead I ended up in the psych ward at Abbot where I stayed until yesterday against my doctors and others advice. I didn’t see the point in staying, all they did was drug me to the point where all I could do was sleep. I was at a crossroads where I knew whether I chose to stay or go I was leaving in worse shape when wen I went in. When I walked out of the hospital and reality came crashing down on me I knew right then and there that I fucked up choosing to go to begin with, yet again regretting my decision to hold on. So I am back where I started but with a bit more inner strength then I had before because I received a mental vacation, but seriously how long will that last? The answer will come in the next week or so as I sit back and see how everything plays out between my job, dream, finances, and relationships. I feel I am at the point where depending on how these things play out will determine my future.

My life is riddled with mistakes, and regrets each one adding to the greater mound of shit called life. At this moment three key things come to mind, keep in mind this is not in chronological order of importance.

  1. Failing at fixing all the problems at the nursing home I work at to improve the quality of life of the residents I have grown to care for so deeply.
  2. Giving up on my dreams of becoming a writer or an artist.
  3. Not finding redemption for the countless number of lives I have destroyed in my 35 years on this earth.
  4. Not following through with shit on November 26th.

I think what it comes down to is acceptance. I need to accept that I won’t ever be more than I am right now. I have to finally accept I won’t ever be able to help the residents where I work. I don’t know what’s worse giving up on my dreams or trying to redeem myself by helping people just like me who can’t help themselves. I have done shitty things; I have poisoned and hurt everyone and everything I have ever touched. Many of my poems touch on this concept of being a “virus.”

For over six years I have worked so hard to make up for all the pain and suffering I have caused by reducing the pain and suffering the residents at the nursing home I work for by the hands and decisions of the very same people who are supposed to care for and safe guard these residents. There are many good hearted people whom I work with who carry this burden of failure, if any of them are reading this they know the deep sorrow and feeling of helplessness of not being able to give these guys the proper quality of life they deserve.

I have been in business with and covered up things for “business associates” who wouldn’t hesitate putting a bullet in your head, but being involved with and covering up for an employer who is a non-profit and allows vulnerable adults and employees to be harassed mistreated and discriminated against is far worse in my eyes. There are many people at the nursing home I work at who see the same things I see but do not act; as Haile Selassie so eloquently put it

Throughout history, it has been the inaction of those who could have acted; the indifference of those who should have known better; the silence of the voice of justice when it mattered most; that has made it possible for evil to triumph.”

All of the people involved in my past life and unfortunately as of late too much of my current life chose “the life” and in the end we all end up in one of two places, we deserve whatever end to our means no matter how horrific or painful. Our residents on the other hand do not deserve the means that transpire until their end comes.

This is my apology to the residents that have come and gone who failed to receive the proper quality of life they deserved. I am sorry that I can no longer continue to fight for the change needed, it is destroying me. My old associates showed more mercy delivering people to their end, than the people I work for now. The people employed by this company who care are used and pushed until they break while the predators are allowed to continue to prey.

Non-profits are not supposed to be run like a criminal organization where fear and intimidation rule. Non-profits are supposed to be built upon something called “Duty of care.” If any one of the “criminals” who work at this nursing home is reading this let me define what duty of care means.

“Duty of care is the moral and legal obligation to attend to the safety and wellbeing of those they serve, those who work for them and others who come into contact with their operations.”

Now to wrap things up there may be some people who do not understand what the title of this entry has to do with the content. Below is a Youtube link of Justin Furstenfeld performing the song “Graceful Dancing.” After hearing his introduction to this powerful song, and seeing the familiar emotions during his performance I decided to check myself into the hospital which drastically changed the content of this post. For that I thank the artist and the person who posted this video.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fCFpgfvPGZo&list=PLIWCEQoVmfdHIakN42xTrXYjPnE6I3EHB&index=55

 

If you look out into emptiness, your world will become empty. If you look at the blessings, your life will be blessed.

I was reading some uplifting comments a few friends made about one of my recent drawings on Facebook. Despite everything I couldn’t help but smile, and feel good about myself. I started to reflect on how much my life has changed since I reactivated my Facebook account. It didn’t take long to reach the conclusion that this decision literally saved my life. It’s not actually FB that did the saving; it’s the angels I discovered within and the miracles they performed who deserve the credit. I would not be where I am today if it were not for some very special people on Facebook, because I am not sure their feelings on this matter I will not use any names, but I do hope if you are reading this you know this is dedicated to you.

I was trying to cope with a major crisis, directly caused by the only tangible person in my support system. The only friend I had to lean on lives in Arizona, which made regular communication difficult.  I felt completely isolated and alone. Prior to reactivating my FB account I took a huge leap of social faith, and started opening up to some people at work. Words cannot even describe how awkward and scary this was for me, hell half the time after a conversation I felt like I had just run an emotional mile. I would sit back just praying I didn’t ramble on, and make a complete fool out of myself. If it were not for my newly formed friendships at work, I would have never rediscovered my value and self-worth as a person. They showed me, that with a strong support group I could get through this crisis. They encouraged me to reactivate my FB account to see if I could continue to build on this newly formed foundation. I want to say thank you, for taking the time to listen, and for being nonjudgmental when I couldn’t hold it together anymore and just sobbed.

To be honest I wasn’t expecting anything to happen once I reactivated my account. I was never the social butterfly, so I was confident there would be no parade welcoming me back into the world. I decided I was going to approach FB the same way I approach my writing…with honesty. I started posting about my chaotic life and how I was doing. I included links to my blog, and posted pictures of my drawings. This terrified me! I was showing the real me, not the fool who wears masks just to be accepted. I was symbolically streaking naked across the FB landscape exposing myself for all to see.

I never imagined the outcome would be discovering I had friends that care about me. Even though I have not spoken to or seen them in ages, they made it clear they were here for me. I cannot describe this unfamiliar feeling, and how difficult it is for me to believe I am not alone. Between work, and now FB I have been more social in the last month than I have been in fifteen years.

I don’t think people ever truly realize the impact they have on others. Everyone I have had the honor and privilege of communicating with has made a tremendous impact on my life. During one conversation I learned there are actually woman out there who love comics as much as I do, and in another I had an amazing therapeutic conversation with a complete stranger who happened to be a Christian. What made it beautiful is we were on completely different belief spectrum’s, yet clicked. These are just two examples; I get excited and look forward to every future conversations.

Everyday I have certain things that I say over and over again to try and stay positive and one of them is this “The part of you that thrives is the part you feed the most.” I owe so much to those who take the time to comment on my art. I don’t think they realize the impact their words have on me, let alone the added impact of who these words are coming from. Sometimes the person making the comment means more than and enhances the comment itself.

Last Thursday I can honestly say, I experienced true hopelessness. I sincerely could not tell you the last time I was in so much emotional pain. I had given up, and I was searching for viable reasons for why I shouldn’t. I know I said I wasn’t going to mention names, but if it were not for Shawn Johnson I honestly don’t think I would be here today. All of this pain and hopelessness that was eating away at me; he took that shit away and replaced it with hope. There is no way I can repay you; besides letting you know you have a brother for life.

I don’t believe in miracles or angels, but I am at an impasse trying to find the proper definition to explain these two concepts. I don’t know any other way to describe what has happened since I have opened myself up to friends at work and those on FB besides anything less than a miracle. The only word or concept I can think of to call those of you who are here for me, even in the smallest of ways; are angels.

Thank you.

Over the last couple weeks I have been confronted with my own mortality. This has become a crippling fear which is overwhelming me. It all started from reading my Sports Illustrated. In the beginning they have these small little blurbs, and I begun to notice there were many people who were dying of cancer at a relatively young age. I am not talking as young as say twenty-five; I am saying these guys were dropping dead in their fifties or sixties. This concept has been eating away at me. I think that I may only have twenty to thirty years left to live, and my first thirty-one years have gone by in a heart beat. I smoke and chew so my time may be even sooner than that. So this has been bothering me, but what really set me off was a response I received from one of my Facebook status messages. It was from my cousin reminiscing about our youth. I sat back and realized this time, and it seemed like just yesterday. Yuk! I am festering with fear right at this very moment.

This comment has been hanging over my head like a dark rain cloud. I remember going to see my grandparents over the weekend with my dad. Their place is as clear in my mind as if I just saw it yesterday. I remember catching salamanders and snakes, and exploring their gigantic garage, which seemed to have a little bit of everything in it. I remember picking raspberries and exploring the massive woods around their property. These memories are so fresh in my mind yet were over twenty years ago. In sitting here I can bring up emotions and feelings I had during this time, and the thought I will never experience them again terrifies me. I will never again know and feel what it is like to be six or even thirteen years old. I am stuck in the age that I am in, and at times I feel like a prisoner inside of myself.

It is amazing how fast time goes, and there is nothing anyone can do about it. Tomorrow will come regardless if we want it to or not. One guarantee in life is every year you are moving closer to death. I end up focusing on this very fact and it blinds me from seeing today. There will never be another day like today. It will slip away from you if you do not siege the present moment. If I am unable to be completely present in what is going on right at this moment then I am cheating myself out of yet another day. If I continue to fear my own mortality before I know it I will soon be confronted with it. The last thing I want is to look back during my dying breath and realize I lost so much time worrying about this very moment.

I really do not want to die, I mean who does. There are times when life is at its worst when I dream of being released from my torture, but these times have grown to be few and far between. I am so afraid of the concept of never having another thought. I fear being lowered into the ground and in time forgotten. When you think of the millions upon millions who have died in the last twenty years how many of them do you think are truly remembered? I know I never think of my great grandparents and I have zero memories of their lives. They have been forgotten and yet life still moves on. Time does not care about anything and is as cruel as the devil himself. It can never be conquered. Even the mightiest armies will fall to father time, if this is so then what chance do I have?

I have been diagnosed with almost every single mental illness you can think of. Currently I am unaware of what my exact diagnosis is. I have referred that I have a mental illness, but not exactly what I have. I will explain in this post. For many years I had the label of schizoaffective disorder. My med doctor and therapist at that time agreed on this diagnosis. My current therapist thought otherwise when she started seeing me. We have only talked once about possible diagnosis, and her thoughts were bi-polar 1, OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder), ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder), and severe anxiety. Like I said earlier she has yet to give me her definitive diagnosis. I think her diagnosis fits with how I feel, but I may add ODD (Oppositional Defiant Disorder.) I have an appointment with her this week; I think I will ask her again. I would really like to finally have an answer to what I suffer from. I think mentally if I know what I suffer from it would help me cope. Today I am going to focus on my OCD, and perhaps this entire week choose a different aspect of my illness. This does make me feel a bit vulnerable, but it is not like my readers think I am normal anyway.

My OCD is not the type where I need to do everything in threes of such; mine is a tad different. It is complicated, but I will do my best to explain. I am a man of routines. They define my life in everything I do. If I need to deviate from these routines I am spun into intense anxiety and panic which triggers me to become agitated, angry, and triggers psychosis. This cycle of madness never changes. If there is a part of my life that is void of routine I become scattered brained and lost. An example of this lost feeling is doing laundry. I have a routine where I sit in the man room and watch football Saturday and Sunday. As long as I am down stairs watching football I can breeze through the laundry. I check the laundry every eighth commercial. If I am not doing this I cannot remember to do laundry.

When I go to places I visit often I need to park in the same spot. If I am unable to park in this spot I will either leave or get spun into that panic and agitation. I have battled this a bit where I have been able to broadened my routine to include a few different parking spots within a small region from my original spot. This has helped me a bit. I do have issues with things being dirty. I get into a funk when things are not perfectly clean; being that I have three children this is impossible to achieve. I have battled this by tuning my senses off to what the house looks like. If I notice any filth I again get panic and agitation. I try to stay away from cleaning that one spot up, because then I need to clean the entire house. I can never get it perfect enough, and this throws me into a psychosis.

I need to have a coffee before and after work I put a chew in at exactly 8am and another one at 2pm when I am at work. I then need to smoke at the exact same time everyday. When I am driving I need to smoke at the exact same location. I have to take my meds at the exact same time everyday. There was just recently an episode when I was not able to do this and it totally fucked with me. I had a therapy appointment and it happened to overlap with a time when I take one of my night meds. I forgot my medication at home, and I was a complete mess the entire therapy appointment. I was freaking out. When I got home I went to take it and my wife tried to talk me down from this obsession. I immediately became agitated and angered. This caused an argument, and I eventually agreed to do differently. I was not able to sleep at all that night, and it triggered the depression I had last week. This was part because my routine was interrupted and part of lack of sleep. I do not blame my wife for this, because she was just trying to help me.

The final aspect may either be a result of my OCD or is a part of my bi-polar 1 disorder. I get these ideas in my head of things I either need to buy, or things I need to do. Once I get these ideas in my head they just continue to replay over and over again until I am actually doing them or I have bought the item. The longer I go without satisfying this need to more psychotic I become. These thoughts completely consume me. Like I said this could be a component of my hyper-mania. I suppose I could ask my therapist this. This is just a few examples; There are many more routines or obsessions and compulsions I have. If I were to address every single one this post would become a novel.

All I know is whatever this is it consumes me in everyway possible. When I am deviated from my routines it destroys my mental state. I would prefer if everything in my life was a routine. I think I would function so much better. There are many aspects of my life that does not revolve around a routine, and this tends to cause issues because I am just off in la la land doing whatever first comes to my mind. This thought or need then ends up consuming me until it has been done, so I suppose even my non-routine essentially transforms into an obsession. I am also not sure if these things I get in my head that must get done is a result of my bi-polar 1 or a component of the compulsion aspect of my OCD. I do know that none of the current medications I am taking help me with this, at least none that I am aware of. I am sure if a component of my medication treatment was removed these symptoms may increase and become worse. The best coping method I have found is meditation along with counting beads in twenty-six intervals using my meditation/prayer necklace. If any of my readers suffer from OCD and have found methods to cope and battle this I would love to hear about them.