Check Up with Doc Brown

Day 1012

I had a check up with Doc Brown the other day. You remember him, right? He's my shrink.  Anyway, he adjusted my meds to get me back on track. How did I get off track? Well, for that story I have to go back to summer (when I should have been posting, but wasn't).

I see Doc Brown every three months or so and two visits ago, I was feeling pretty good. So good, in fact, that I asked if I could back my Zoloft down from 150 mgs to just 100 mgs. He said I could if I wanted to, so I gave it a try. Despite the fact that this summer was extremely difficult emotionally, I faired relatively well - until fall came.

From the first cloudy cold snap I began to struggle. The anxiety seemed to ramp up daily, I couldn't focus at all without the Concerta, and depression was creeping in. Productivity was a daily obstacle. I floated from bits of this project to bits of that one - never actually completing anything (and when you work in marketing - an industry fueled by timing and deadlines - that's really bad). I could feel a complete freak out looming and I knew I had to head it off.

God bless Doc Brown! When I shared these things with him, he assured me that getting back on track was easily done. He increased my Zoloft back to 150 mgs and we discussed other options such as light therapy. I also informed him of some relaxation audio that I've been using lately and he agreed that this was a good idea.

I also told him of a special mission that I am undertaking in the spring. I have been inspired by my best friend, Tim, who recently completed his first triathlon as a gift to himself for his fortieth birthday. I turn 40 next July, so I've decided to hike a section of the Appalachian Trail to celebrate. Fortunately, Tim has agreed to hike it with me. Doc Brown believes that this will be very beneficial for me and I think he's right.

I will keep you informed on the progress of my AT (that's big boy hiker talk for Appalachian Trail) training and planning. For now, I have been on the increased dosage for two days. No real change yet, but it's supposed to take a week or so to build back up.

I think it's important to mention that I don't feel defeated or set back in any way because of this. My decision to reduce my dosage was not an attempt to eliminate the medication. I used to think that if I could get off the meds, I would be well. I don't measure wellness like that anymore. The meds are there to help me and they need to be what they need to be. I measure wellness by the quality of the life I live from day to day and the quality of the life that I contribute to those around me. The meds are simply tools that I use to make wellness happen.

What experiences have you had with adjusting your meds? Leave a comment below and share.

Birds on a Wire

Day 1007

This is a fun poem I wrote today while taking a "Brain Break" from my work.

Birds on a Wire

A dark thrumming thread from pole to pole
The congregation calls the roll

Dotted lines, hammered tacks
Measuring marks, railroad tracks

Come to order feathered kin
Discuss new business, two cents in

Make decisions, have your say
Meeting adjourned, now on your way

An empty thread against the sky
A board room for winged passers-by

Issues of conscience and consequence weighed
In an aviary congress this November day

What matters of state, religion, and law
Are voiced as the Brethren sound forth their "caw"?

The context of such are known only to God
It's not for the rest of us down on the sod

So the poles just stand, and the thread keeps on thrumming
'Til tomorrow when another such gathering is coming

My Secret Weapon For Bad Days

Day 978

You know the cliche response we give when people ask us how we're doing?  The one where we say, "Oh, you know.  Good days and bad days."  Has anyone else noticed the painful irony in this statement?  Everyone has good days and bad days.  It's called "life" and just because we take medication, talk about our issues with professionals, and breathe deeper than most people, doesn't mean we're exempt.  We will always have good days and bad days.

Yesterday was a prime example.  I can't really point to one specific thing, it was just a bad day.  I was anxious all morning so I walked to a nearby deli to clear my head and get lunch.  The more I walked, the more I struggled to hold out against the rituals pressing in on me.  It started out with alternating footsteps, then even numbers.  The next thing I know I was counting parking spaces and keeping track of the cars driving by by make, model, approximate year, and color.

Now, I've been at this "fighting crazy" stuff for over a year.  One would think that I wouldn't have to work so hard, but some days are like that - still.  And I have a feeling that some days always will be.  If "normal" people have good days and bad days, I don't see how I'm going to avoid it.

The good news is that I've found a secret weapon along the way.  It's giving.  That's right, giving.  I have found that focusing on giving to someone else when I'm having a bad day makes a huge difference.  Sometimes I bring donuts to work for my friends.  Sometimes I go out of my way to listen to the troubles of someone I love.  Sometimes I just look for opportunities to hug people.  The point is that giving get me out of my head and makes me useful to others.  Soon, I forget about my issues for a while because I'm concentrating on someone else's.

The next time you find yourself at the mercy of the madness, try giving.  It really works.  It also make people glad to have you around, and you can't go wrong there.

What do you do to get through the "bad days?"  Leave a comment and let me know.

"Um...Hi."

Still Day 958

OK, so I suppose you're wondering where I've been for almost a year.  I don't blame you.  I could have written or called and I probably should have.  But I was really trying to see if I could do it.  I mean, we're supposed to get better right?  And in our situation, better means living more like everyone else.  Well, I don't know very many everyone elses who write about being crazy (sorry, Coach) on a regular basis.

I mean, I knew that I wasn't going to be able to tie a bow around this thing and pack it away.  that was evident when I still found myself counting everything in even numbers, chewing equally on both sides of my mouth, alternating my footsteps across horizontal planes when I walk, and many of my other parlor tricks.  More than a year of therapy and medication and I'm still my own little side show.

It was OK, though, because I was able to keep the festivities in my head again.  You know, kind of like my own entertainment.  I was surviving too, until summer.  Yes, now we arrive at the purpose of our fated reunion.  There will be much written about this summer in the weeks to come, but for now, I'll give you the list.  Even better - bullet points.

• I started a business (in addition to the other business I already owned - looking for an auxiliary income stream to augment a lack of profitability)
• I performed a funeral for a friend
• I redesigned the entire marketing program of my main business still trying to discover some illusive profitability
• I performed a funeral for the mother of one of my oldest friends (she died senselessly and suddenly of cancer and it felt like burying my own mother)  This brought me face to face with countless people from my childhood and adolescence.
• I started another business (with a dear friend who needs to be free of a job that's killing him and take charge of his future)
• I performed a funeral for one of my closest friends from college (who hung himself in a closet)  This brought me face to face with countless people from college.
• I turned 39
• I took my wife and kids to Disney World (no small feat for a crazy guy - I encountered 2 planes, a dozen restaurants, four crowded theme parks, monorails, trains, buses, a safari truck, and half of the nation of Brazil)
• I performed a funeral for my Great-Aunt (who died of natural causes at 90)  This brought me face to face with countless extended relatives.
• I redesigned the entire marketing program for the first business I started still looking for auxiliary income for the main business that was still struggling.
• I performed a funeral for the Grandmother of the same friend who lost his mother 2 months ago.  This brought me face to face with extended members of his family for whom I had no answers regarding their feelings of injustice and grief.
• I redesigned the entire marketing program for my main business in yet another effort to reach profitability.
• I just found out that someone close to me has cancer.

So there it is, World.  As you can see, we have much to discuss.  I don't really know what to call this next adventure.  Or what to call the last 11 months.  One thing I do want you to know, though, is that it wasn't anything you did.  It wasn't you, it was me.  I guess I just needed some space, you know, to find myself.  Or maybe I just realized that it isn't so bad to need you after all.  Stop me if I had you at "Hello"...

Homecoming

Day 958

The rain runs cold off my worn leather cap as I turn the key over in my hand.  It's been so long.  Will anyone even remember me?  Do I care?  Well, I must, because here I am standing in the rain like a fool looking at a locked door and trying to convince myself it's better out here.

It's been almost a year since I left.  What do I say?  Where so I start?  So much has happened.

What if I don't have answers for all the questions?  What if there are no questions?  What if no one noticed I was gone?  That would be good, right?  That would mean that I was inconsequential from the beginning.  And if I was inconsequential from the beginning, I was never important enough to have hurt anyone.  I can handle the embarrassment, the puzzled expressions, the shame.  As long as nobody got hurt.

Still, I highly doubt that it's appropriate to heave the door open and shout, "Honey, I'm home!"  This is home isn't it?  Of course it is.  After all, I built this place.  I invited these people.  It's my key and my door.  What was I thinking?  After living here all these years, how could I possibly have believed that I could simply lock it up and walk away?

Well, there's nothing for it, Mr. Frodo.  It's time to face the music.  I'll just be honest and say what I'm thinking.  That's what worked last time.  Oh, look at that.  The key still fits...

OCD Makes Conflict Extra Difficult

Day 606

If you've been a reader of this blog for any length of time, you know that I often process heavy things with poetry. I apologize if this one melts your brain, but I promised to share the struggles along with the success. Here you go.

Tension, like dense fog frozen, envelopes the eviscerated carcasses of half-truths hung

Chilling the marrow of well meaning warm bloods, it hardens the hell-bent belligerent tongue

Political poison slowly subdues him, maniacal maneuvers breathe whispers of woe

Beware the plots of polyester pirates that grin with their good eye for things you don't know

Seduced by the secrets that romance rebellion he tears at the frayed edge of friendship forlorn

Irrational fear of betrayal awakens his battle-worn bloodlust for power reborn

No apology appeases his red-faced raging no concession consoles his torment within

In the end he denies me the right of redemption resigning to only repeat it again

I gather the shards of my shattered conviction and piece them together as best I recall

Forged in the fire of pure self-reliance I gather up stones and rebuild my wall

Amazed, I consider the numerous occasions upon which I've risen from rubble and dust

Pain is the process that produces a metal resistant to rot, erosion, and rust

Fractures and fragments lie strewn out behind me the flotsam of faltering footsteps in sand

The pieces I'm missing are now gone forever, the future I'm facing unfolds in my hand

Gone are the innocent days of denial, the challenger beckons me into the street

Facing each other with trigger hands twitching this may be the final occasion we meet

He glares with his drawing hand poised and positioned, promising to mete out my judgement today

But I'm tired of fighting for what doesn't matter so I simply refuse him and just walk away

On a desolate street he festers and curses wondering why he's again all alone

With eyes that look inward he'll never see clearly, the only betrayal of him was his own

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod

Catching Up with Coach

Day 591

My last meeting with Coach was back in May.  I scheduled a follow-up that day for sometime during the summer, but I missed it, so, needless to say, it had been a while.  We had an awesome time catching up on all that has happened in the last four months (more about that later).

Our main topic of conversation was all of the progress I have made in a year and a half.  The cocktail of meds that I take every night is doing the trick and I'm functioning better than ever.  I can't say that I have completely conquered the "crazy."  I would say it's more like OCD and I have negotiated a form of organized chaos.  I don't know if we'll ever "break up" but we have had "the talk."  We sat down and worked it out.

Me:  "It's not you, it's me.  I just need some space - to think things through.  I need to find myself and what really makes me happy."

OCD: "But..."

Me: "Look, you deserve to be happy too.  I'm not stupid, you know.  I've seen how miserable you've been for the last year and a half."

OCD: "I know it's been rough, but I can change, really."

Me: "I appreciate the thought, but you haven't changed in 38 years and I don't see it happening now.  I just think that some distance will do us good.  It's exactly what we both need right now."

OCD: "Can we still be friends?"

Me: "I don't know, maybe, but things will never be like they were.  We can keep talking I guess and see where things go from there."

OCD: "I can live with that."

Me: "OK."

Disclaimer: If you have to ask me where that bit of dialogue came from, you don't really have OCD.

Anyway, I shared with Coach what I have been working on all summer.  Having my head clear has allowed me to focus on a project that I'm very passionate about.  It's called "Freeing Families."  I identified 12 freedoms that I believe are evident in the life of a healthy family.  Then I created a system to teach people how to strengthen their families so that these 12 freedoms become part of their daily lives.  Once I created all this content, I launched www.freeingfamilies.com.  It's a website where people can go to learn about how it all works.

I also began assembling the entire first year of posts from this blog into a eBook along with some extra bonus content.  I hope to make that available on this blog very soon.  It was an action-packed summer to say the least, but some really great things came out of it.  I have to say that there is a lot of satisfaction that comes from looking at the road behind me and see how far I've traveled.  Thank you so much to all of you who have journeyed with me.  As I told the Coach, this would not have been possible without you.

If you would be interested in a copy of Conquering Crazy Year One, please leave a comment or email me and let me know.  I'm always balancing priorities and, if there is interest in this, I'll move it up the list.

OCD Test

Day 560

"So, you believe that you have OCD?"

"Yes."

"Then you probably do."

"Really?"

"Have you done any reading, research, tested yourself?"

"All of the above.  I have scoured the internet, read two books, and taken two different tests by two different authors."

"Two?"

"It's an even number thing."

"I see.  It seems you've arrived at a pretty clear diagnosis.  That's doesn't surprise me, actually.  Most of my patients who have OCD are self-diagnosed."

This was the first conversation I had with Coach regarding the "crazy".  I was surprised at first to learn that self-diagnosis was the rule and not the exception.  But once I thought about it, the idea made perfect sense to me.  I mean, after all, we are the kings and queens of research.  For 36 years the mere mention of new subject matter would provide fuel for days of obsessive informational devourment.  In reality, no one needed to diagnose me at all.  I had lived with it all my life, so the beginning of my journey had more to do with admittance than proclamation.

In the last year and a half I have had the privilege of meeting some amazing people who live with "crazy" of there own.  Regardless of the details, nearly every one of them were self-diagnosed in the beginning.  This is why I decided to write this post and share how I arrived at my diagnosis.  You may be out there wondering whether you have OCD.  Maybe your friends tease you about being neat, super clean, overly organized, or whatever; and their jibes have left you wondering.  I can't pronounce you OCD, but I can show you what led me to that conclusion and hopefully it helps.

I started with a book called Freedom from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder: A Personalized Recovery Program for Living with Uncertainty  by Johnathan Grayson.  This book takes it apart piece by piece and walks you through every step of self-assessment (in fact I chose it at my local  bookstore mainly because it had the most exhaustive test section).  I have never met Dr. Grayson, but he has been dealing with OCD for decades and I can tell you from personal experience, the man knows his "crazy".  I learned a ton of awesome information from this book including how OCD manifests differently in each person, how to understand where the "OCD thoughts" come from, and how to challenge it through cognitive behavioral therapy.

Even today, I still use much of what I learned from Dr. Grayson.  It's not an overly entertaining book or a hand-holding touchy-feely experience, but it is packed full of facts, explanations, and assessments.  I highly recommend picking up a copy to use as a reference during your journey.  I know I have returned to this book many times for those helpful bits of information that I couldn't quite recall.  I have also reassessed myself with the tests to find where I have progressed.  It's not an expensive book, but one we all should own.  I hope it helps you as much as it has helped me.

Please feel free to share your thoughts about this book and/or this post in comments section.  The more we talk to each other, the more progress we make.

Knowledge vs. Wisdom

Day 547

I heard once that Knowledge was knowing the answers and Wisdom was knowing where to find them. I still believe there’s truth to that, but recently I’ve unearthed a broader understanding of these two virtues.

As a young man, I took pride in the fact that I knew a lot of answers (and even if I didn’t, I was full of enough BS to fake it until I did). I saw that having an answer for everything showed people that I was smart, quick, and intellectually formidable. I also learned that having quick answers either impressed or intimidated most people allowing me to push my way through otherwise challenging situations.

Now that I’m living on the other side of 37, I have a different perspective. I understand that the defense of my insatiable appetite for knowledge was often just a rationalization for my “Crazy”. I allowed OCD to drive me and then justified it by displaying my impressive collection of informational pirate booty. I used knowledge as weaponry in the conquest of of my environment. I railed against the systems and institutions that imprisoned my "boxless” world view. Seduced by my sickness, I sold myself to its offerings and laid waste to my surroundings in a desperate effort to gain a modicum of emotional elbow room.

It wasn’t until I began therapy that I learned to view Wisdom in higher regard. Wisdom was swimming in the ocean. Vast and deep, slow and lumbering; its power was undoubtedly immense, but it never seemed worth the effort. Wisdom was the territory of the aged. Its lavish, horded wealth of mystical secrets lined the pockets of the seasoned and the sage. I was young and quick, strong and smart. I didn’t have time to wait for the old money of wisdom to pass down to me.

As I approach the halftime of my life, I can say I know things now, that I didn’t know then. Knowledge, it seems, is still about having the answers to the questions. Wisdom, however, lies deep within the ability to ask the right questions at the right time.

What question is burning in your mind these days? Take some time and journey into its possibilities. You may find that swimming in the ocean can be rather refreshing.

Checkup

Day 516

I had a checkup with Doc Brown last week and, when he asked how things were going, I was able to say really positive things!

I told him about how I had enjoyed watching my son play baseball and my daughter play a lead role in a summer musical. I told him about how I had enjoyed family bike rides and special events like my birthday. I even had the chance to share about my return to the YMCA (that's a future post of it's own).

In short, it felt great to talk about positive things in a session for once. I'm even going to try sleeping without Tamazapam. We'll see how it goes.

Now, I'm enough of a realist to know that there will be tough times on the heels of the good ones. I'm simply choosing to make the most of these while I have them. What about you? How about leaving a comment on this post about something positive so we can celebrate together?


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod

Super Power or Kryptonite

Day 509

OCD and ADHD combine into an odd concoction of abilities.  For instance, ADHD removes all filtering in my brain.  “Normal” people can have a conversation and, though they hear other sounds around them, they are able to tune out the extraneous noise in the room and focus on the person with whom they are talking.  I can’t do that.  With ADHD, all input is equally important, all the time.  A busy room becomes a sonic tapestry of interwoven conversational threads.  Needless to say, restaurants can be excruciating. 

When you add OCD into the mix, I not only hear all input equally, but I am, then, compelled to record and organize it in my mind.  I can actually hear four or five conversations going around me and keep track of them individually in my head.  This is a neat party trick for about ten minutes and then it becomes completely maddening, not to mention frustrating to whoever is with me at the time.  I try to think of it as one of my super powers, but despite the wow factor, it's mentally exhausting.

To give you an idea of what it's like, I'm going to let you into my head for ten minutes as a friend and I stopped into Starbucks for coffee.  Keep in mind that everything you read was recorded in my head, simultaneously, in real time and typed verbatim three hours later.

10 minutes in Starbucks

Mike: (heading to the restroom) “I’ll take a coffee.  Pick me out something real nice.”

Guy in front of me: “Now we’re talking, that’s exactly the flavor I was looking for.  Here, Honey, try this.”

Foursome behind me:

Person 1 “That’s really great, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” 

Person 2 “Yeah, you did very well, you should think about it as a profession.” 

Person 3 ”I just never thought it would be a good fit for me.  I guess I was wrong.”

Couple by the door:

Woman “I just don’t know if she’s ready, Jim.  I don’t think we should push.” 

Man “I’m not trying to push.  I just think it would be good for her, that’s all.”

Cashiers:

Woman 1 “I’ll finish clearing the pastry case.” 

Woman 2 “I’m just trying to get my register to ring out.”  

Woman 1 “Just close your till.  (looking at me) I can ring you up over here.”

Guy in front: (walking away) “See I told you you’d like it.  It’s sweet with just a little bite.”

Foursome:

Person 2 “We need to tell Jane about this.” 

Person 1 “I think we should just show her the pictures and see what she does.” 

Person 3 “I think we’ll have to.  She’d never believe if we just told her.”

Cashiers: Woman 1 “What can I get started for you?”

Me: “Two tall Pikes with room, please.”

Couple by the door:

Woman “Don’t worry, she’ll come around in time.  I was the same way.” 

Man “I hope you’re right.  I’d hate to see her miss an opportunity like this.”

Cahiers: Woman 1 “Here you go.”

Me: “Thanks.”

Mike: (back from the men’s room)  “What’s that?”

Me: “It's the Starbucks app.  I can load my card and use this to pay.  They scan it with that thing.”

Mike: “That’s so cool.”

Foursome:

Person 3 “What time is it?  We should go.” 

Person 2 “Oh my, it’s after nine.” 

Person 3 “Yeah, I think they close at ten anyway.” 

Person 3 “They do.”

Me: (walking to the condiment bar) “It’s cool, I just load with fifty bucks at a time and pay it down.  This way I don’t have to carry that card.  What? Oh, do you need some cream?  Miss, can we get some half and half?”

Coffee Woman: (handing the carton) "Sure, I think I can trust you not to run off with it.”

Couple by the door:

Man” Do you think she understands that I’m just looking out for her?” 

Woman “Maybe.  I wouldn’t stress about it.  You know how she can be.”

Foursome: (leaving to my left) Person 1 “We should do this again sometime.”

Me: (checking email on my iPod) “If Sirius Radio really wants me back, they’ll fix it so I can hear football.  I can listen to every baseball game being played, every NBA game, every NHL game, but if I want to listen to the NFL, I have to pay for the best of Sirius package on top of my XM subscription.”

Couple by the door: Woman “The food case is empty and they’re down to one register.  I think they’re closing up.”

Mike: (handing back the half and half) “Here you go.”

Coffee Woman: “Thanks.”

Me: “When they were separate companies, XM had baseball, basketball, and hockey, but Sirius had football.  After the merger, they still make me play extra for football.  It’s just like how I was done with Monday night football when they made me pay for it.  (leaving) That’s crazy!  This is America.  People went to war and died so that there could be free football in this country on Monday nights.”

Mike: “I think they went to war and died so that people could make money on football.”

Me: “Anyway, I think it’s stupid.  Where did we park?”

38

Day 497

Today is July 6, 2011 and I became 38 years old this afternoon. I have had other birthdays (37 to be exact), but this one was different. I usually spend by birthdays flogging myself with the scourge of self-pity as I slog through every depression-filled moment, thinking of all of the things I haven't accomplished. I revisit every dream of my youth in excruciating detail mocking myself for my complete lack of achievement. I remind myself of the ages when all of my grandparents died, as I try to calculate my probable life expectancy. Once I arrive at the number that will surely mark the end of my truly unremarkable life, I take note of just how much of it is already over. Makes you want to light the candles and sing, "Happy Birthday" doesn't it? It's morbid, I know. That's why today was so significant.

Today, I didn't do any of the usual depressing birthday things. I didn't stagger into the day with the sick sense of certain doom and despair I have come to know as birthday. I woke up with a different perspective. I went to work in a different mood. In fact, I did everything differently, because I realized some extremely important things. What I am about to share was huge for me. I don't necessarily expect it to be monumental for everyone, but I will warn you that reading any further may just screw up an otherwise very bad day.

My Birthday Epiphanies

The Magic of Marriage
Of my 38 years on this earth, I have known my wife for 26 of them. She has been my girlfriend for 22 of them and my wife for more than 15. I can't remember a time in my life when I didn't know her and I never want to. She is precious to me. I have written about her in this blog before, and I could write volumes about what she means to me. Today, however I realized that if I could hold in my hand the complete fulfillment of every plan, scheme, and dream of my youth, I would trade them all instantly, without a second thought, for any one those 26 years. The fact that I have them all is worth more than any achievement, accomplishment, or accolade. I told you, she is precious to me. And just so you know, I told her too before I ever thought of writing this post.

The Encouragement of Children
My daughter is nearly 13 and my son is 8. I used to watch them and fret about whether or not I passed the "crazy" on genetically. Now, I look at them and see all of the aspects I love most about my wife, the humorous habits of my parents, and the talents that came from me. Sure, they have some of the odd bits too, but that's why they need parents. And it's good to be needed.

The Foundation of Friends
Among the things I took stock of today, were my friends. When I considered my small group of very close friends, I realized that every one of them are lifers. By lifers, I mean that they've been my friends for decades and they'll probably attend my retirement party, my 50th wedding anniversary celebration and my funeral. Nearly every member of the Greg's Friends Club has belonged for 15 or more years - some as long as 20 or even longer. This partially comes from being a lifer to other people, but there's a hefty load of blessing in the mix as well.

The Mindset of Maturity
Finally, I realized that the plans and dreams that I have been lamenting for years are not the plans and dreams of a mature man. They are the fleeting aspirations of a young man. I don't value the same things I did in my youth. I don't eat the same way. I don't work or play the same way, so why would I dream the same way? There is still time for new dreams and I'm just the guy to have them. Just because my grandparents died when they did doesn't mean that I will. In fact, I decided today that I will live until at least 80. This means that I'm not at half-time yet. I'm captaining the final drive of the first half and I plan to hit the locker room with points on the board.

As always, thanks for reading.
Happy My Birthday!

Super Power Number 2

Day 483

In my last post I told you about my super power of Resilience.  Today, it's all about Consistency. That's right, one thing about OCD people is that you can set your watch by us.  We will do the same thing every day the same way for the same amount of time in the same place facing the same direction and you can take that to the bank.

I think this is incredibly helpful to the world around me.  For instance, all the little critters in my neighborhood know to stay off the street at the same times every day (no matter when I say I plan to leave or arrive somewhere).  In that way they can plan their  hunting and scavenging without fear of being flattened by my truck.  I stop every morning at the same Starbucks, I order the same drink, I use the same amount of cream and sugar.  This allows Starbucks to plan accordingly and never worry about being caught off-guard by any impulsive ordering or use of condiments.

I help my city by showering and shaving at the same time every day (regardless of when I plan to get up).  This allows the water department to know exactly how much water I will use and plan accordingly.  I buy my gas at the same gas station every week (right after the light comes on to remind that I will soon be walking if I don't) so as not to adversely affect the price of gasoline and, thus, topple the US economy.  I arrive at every appointment at precisely the same time (10-15 minutes late depending on the inconsistency of other motorists and pedestrians).  This allows people to know when to expect me and plan accordingly.

I give my children the same responses to their questions, protests, gripes, and complaints.  This insures that they will have a consistent upbringing characterized by the utmost integrity.  I tell my wife the same jokes and get in trouble for the same things on a daily basis.  This gives her the security of knowing that I haven't changed and that she never has to doubt my sincerity or fidelity.  I cook food the same way every time to give my family a stability they couldn't find in any restaurant.  This allows them to know exactly when to complain and when to cheer.

Consistency pays off in many ways.  My friends and family never have to worry about whether or not I love them.  They never have to wonder if I will be there to protect them, defend them, challenge them, hold them, or hug them.  They never fear that will give up on them, walk away from them, or forget them.  They never have to guess which version of me they will get on any given day, because there's only one (like it or not).  Seriously, what good is a superhero if there's no guarantee he or she will show up when you're in need?  Strength, speed, size, smarts, and phenomenal cosmic powers are useless if you can't count on them to be utilized consistently.

Speaking of which, I need to brush my teeth now.  I would hate to upset the water department.

Super Power Number 1

Day 469

Viewing the elements of my OCD as super powers has significantly changed my outlook on life. I now look for ways to use my amazing abilities to help people. The best part is when they don't know about the "crazy". They only know that I can be a handy guy to have around. I've learned that, many times, other people don't see it as an illness as long as I don't.

The other side of the coin is that I've got this Greatest American Hero thing going on. I've got the suit and the powers, but learning to use them for the good of mankind is its own adventure. But the great part about writing a blog is that you get to tag along.

Ok, so let's take a look at exactly what my powers are. The first thing that comes to mind is an ability that I've found to be common among OCDers. It is supernatural Resilience. Seriously, how many of us have survived a stress load that would have leveled normal people and, yet, we're still kicking.

I had an in-depth discussion recently on Facebook with some close friends about the top ten superheroes of all time. We deliberated extensively about what criteria should be used to measure these titanic icons. Many factors were weighed and debated, but one thing we all agreed upon was resilience. A top notch superhero absolutely must be hard to kill. Using that criteria alone, we OCD folks qualify in spades.

I believe that Resilience, more than anything else, is what sets us apart. After 36 years of anxiety, fear, and the shear burden of literally thousands of daily rituals I found myself losing my grip on sanity, but I never considered giving up.

All through grade school, middle school, high school, and college I endured being misunderstood, misdiagnosed, and mistreated. I simply absorbed inhuman amounts of abuse and ridicule from employers, teachers, coaches, and even pastors. But it never occurred to me to quit.

I've been knocked down more times than I can count and I always get back up. In the old days I assumed that it was my job to swallow the sin for other people. And regular beatings were part of the deal. That was before I realized that I could be more than an emotional dumpster for the issues of others.

Now I see myself more like Rocky Balboa. I've taken beatings that should have killed me, but (start the inspiring theme music here) now I'm coming back. I have balance, I have strength, and I'm hard to kill.

So take heart, my friends. (climbing the steps now) What does not kill us really will only make us stronger. (building up steam) I have my meds. (taking the last rows two at a time) I have my Coach. (reaching the top) I have the support of my family and friends, but most importantly (jumping up and down like I just knocked out Godzilla) I have Resilience! (big high note before the camera freezes with me in mid-air)

And that's just some of what heroes are made of.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod

Self-Loathing is Not a Super Power

Day 465

In keeping with my renewed commitment to this blog, I made time yesterday to read up on what my OCD Blogging friends were up to (check out their blogs for yourself in my links section). I discovered a handful of them were dealing with the issue of self-loathing. As any of you who struggle with OCD know, this is one of the major issues we face. It was a monumental hurdle for me and one of the most significant breakthroughs I have experienced so far.

Like most people with OCD, I never thought much of myself. As a child, I can remember the shock I would feel when anyone expressed an interest in me. I lived with constant chaos in my head, so I made the assumption that being around me must be as excruciating as being me. Therefore, it never occurred to me that anyone would voluntarily subject himself or herself to that kind of aggravation. The struggle was exasperated by the fact that I was hiding the "crazy". In order to keep my secret, I had to allow people to believe things about me that weren't true. For instance, I had so many rituals to perform on a daily basis, by the time I was a teen that I could never be ready to leave or arrive somewhere on time. I had a choice to make. I could either tell people about my issues or just let them think that I was arrogant or self-centered and that I just didn't care about being on time. I chose the latter, because it allowed me to keep my secret.

Keeping the secret was damaging in many ways, but I was thoroughly convinced that, if people knew what was really going on, they would dislike me as much as I did. I made a practice out of taking the blame and the punishment for things other people did, because I believed it to be a strange form of nobility. By the time I reached adulthood, it was common for me to go around looking for opportunities to step in front of oncoming emotional trains. I began every sentence with, "I'm sorry..." I gave away all personal power and surrendered to the idea that I was simply destined for martyrdom. I became the sin eater for everyone around me absorbing as much blame, guilt, shame, and responsibility as I could stand. This was my service, my means of redemption - a way to make something of value out of my worthless existence.

You can see how therapy and I were bound to collide. Coach had his work cut out for him, but this was not his first rodeo. He helped me to see some very important factors. Here they are:

"I don't understand why people love me when I don't love me."
It doesn't matter! What matters is that they do! And, because they do, I get the undeserved privilege of accepting and returning their love. Not only that, I have the responsibility to accept and return their love.

"They shouldn't love me. If I were them, I wouldn't love me."
It doesn't matter! I'm not them! People have the free choice to love whom they choose and it is horrifically unfair, not to mention totally impossible, for me to try to deny them that freedom. The only choice I have is to make them thankful or miserable because of it.

"By withdrawing, I'm limiting the number of good people exposed to my crazy."
No I'm not! I'm simply causing all of those good people to wonder why I'm so angry, hurt, or whatever else they believe because I'm not talking. Just like love, people have the freedom to subject themselves to whom they choose and it is ridiculous to think that I can control that. They obviously love me when they don't even know what's really wrong. Finally having an explanation and getting to be part of the solution can only help.

Look, I'm most likely stuck with this thing in some form for the rest of my life, so I had to decide which parts I would embrace and which parts had to go. I believed I was only hurting myself and that somehow I deserved it, however that wasn't true. My self-loathing did the most damage to my friends and family who pledged to love me no matter what. If I was such a terrible person, what did that say about my friends choice of companions? What did it say about my wife's choice of a mate? What did that say about the very genes that made my children who they were? I had a decision to make and I'm better for my choice. Take it from me, self-loathing is not a super power.

Your eyes are getting sleepy...

Day 463

I just wanted to leave a quick note about a great way to get to sleep. No, this is not an advertisement, I'm not trying to get you into my down-line, and this is definitely not your path to financial freedom. It's way more normal than that, it's hypnosis!

I had been trying different things to help me sleep better when I remembered something from my college days. My roommate had a tape, yes I said tape as in cassette, remember those?

Anyway he had this tape of some guy teaching you how to hypnotize yourself. We used to listen to it after all-nighters to catch up on z's--and it really worked.

I looked on iTunes and found several hypnosis apps. The best ones were by a British guy named Glenn Harrold. If you want to get to sleep and wake up ready to go, Glenn is your guy.

Check him out and let me know what you think. But experiment at your own risk. If you develop sudden urges to bark like a cat, it's not my fault.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod

More About Heroes and Villains

Day 462

First, I want to thank those of you who commented on the last post. Comments mean the world to bloggers, because it tells us that people are actually reading what we write and enjoying it. I especially enjoy comments, because they let me know that I'm not just talking to myself. I have enough issues as it is.

Anyway, since I made public the discovery of my super powers and accepted the responsibility of using them for the good of humanity, I decided I should give some serious thought to my new role as a superhero. This contemplation yielded the following realizations.

Truths About Heroes and Villains

Villains are all about the Powerful.
Heroes are all about the Powerless.

Villains sacrifice others.
Heroes sacrifice themselves.

Villains threaten.
Heroes promise.

Villains want the credit
Heroes pay the price

Villains hide
Heroes seek

Villains enslave
Heroes enlist

Villains control
Heroes contribute

Villains terrorize
Heroes teach

Villains demand
Heroes deliver

Next I'll need a superhero name and an evil nemesis. I'm open to suggestions...

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod

Heroes and Villains

Day 461

I have a theory about heroes and villains. While villains are likely to be pycho or sociopathic, heroes are more likely to suffer from things like OCD.

Think about it, they already have super powers like super hearing, photographic memories, the ability to multitask and process superhuman amounts of simultaneous input, and they solve problems quickly so as not to be burdened by long periods of pointless concentration. In short, they have ADHD.

When my therapist and my shrink diagnosed me with both ADHD and OCD, I didn't see how this was possible. How can a person suffer from the inability to focus and organize while also being enslaved by the need to focus and organize every little thing? It's simple really, I have super powers.

I know it sounds a bit far fetched, but it explains so many things about me. For 37 years, I have carried the loneliness, inner turmoil, and angst that have plagued superheroes throughout history. I always thought it was my own special brand of insanity, some deficiency in my brain, or perhaps a plague of some sort reserved for those destined to suffer a particularly diabolical madness. Imagine my relief when I discovered that I wasn't tragically inflicted at all-- I was just a superhero.

When you boil it all down, I can either choose to see myself as debilitated and lacking because I'm not like everyone else or I can embrace the fact that I can do things other people can't. More often than not, my powers make me handy to have around and they tend to impress the kiddies.

So the way I see it, as long as I remember to use my powers for the good of mankind, I'll be fine. It's also handy to keep in mind that capes pose a choking hazard, spandex doesn't lie, and a good mask really helps pull off the secret identity thing.

So, fear not, good citizens, I vow to keep an ever-vigilant watch for danger, peril, certain doom, horseplay, monkeyshines, and shenanigans. Sleep soundly and rest assured that I will exhibit dogged determination and constant persistence (at least until something beeps or flashes). Puppies, kittens, and cute babies often pose a problem as well. Then there's the peanut butter thing...


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Appreciate Your Idiots

Day 460

Do you know any bona fide idiots? By idiot I mean someone who, for some reason, just doesn't fit into the system we call normal or productive? Do you work with him? Are you related to her? Do they live next door?

You may only meet one or two of these people in your lifetime. You know, the ones who succeed by finding ways around the rules and refusing to give up on a dream because they believe with all their hearts that they are right.

These are the Samurai, the patriots, the warriors, the inventors, the poets, the ones who refuse to check their brain at any door, the ones who ask, "Why? and Why not?". They are the Idiots, and, without them, nothing innovative, unusual, or progressive ever happens.

Appreciate your idiot(s) tomorrow. They may perplex, frustrate, and confound you, but let's be honest, you love to follow them on their great adventures. Let them know you love them. We Idiots need that now and then.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod

Make Up Work

Day 359

I can't tell you how many times I pulled my grades out of a plummeting freefall by completing considerable amounts of eleventh hour make up work. You may recall these assignments given out of complete mercy to effectively pardon bright students who weren't troublesome or disrespectful, yet never seemed to work up to their unrealized potential. I survived on make up work and on the benevolence of the long-suffering teachers that accepted it. The revival of this blog is dedicated to those push-over softies who indulged my giftedness in the face of my complete lack of elbow grease.

Why do I share this? Because much of what will be written in the coming days and weeks will be the blogging equivalent to make up work. Therefore, please allow me to apologize to all of my industrious blogging friends who have remained faithful to their readers. I want you to know that I hold you in the highest esteem for your diligence and consistency. Hopefully, I will gain more of these positive qualities as I rededicate myself to writing this blog. Much has happened and there is ground to cover, so I hope that you can find it in your hearts to forgive me and tune back in. Sleep now, more later.