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.
Showing posts with label OCD Help. Show all posts
Showing posts with label OCD Help. Show all posts
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
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.
"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.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, July 25, 2011
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
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
Monday, July 18, 2011
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.”
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?”
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
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!
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!
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
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.
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.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
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
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
Friday, June 3, 2011
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.
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.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
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
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
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
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
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
Monday, May 30, 2011
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...
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod
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...
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod
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
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
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, February 7, 2011
For my daughter
Day 348
A willowy young woman where once walked a child immersed in the innocent years of her youth
She summons my soul through her mother's eyes and deepens my spirit with my own heart
She drinks in life as once did I with guiltless gulps and sanguine swallows
She savors it's sweetness with droplets of dalliance dancing for joy down her slim-slender chin
She croons a carefree chorus of her choosing and dreams the dappled desires of youth.
Proving that passion means always believing, she discovers the forgotten faith that lose
She's a tempestuous tryer of my pitiable patience, a formidable foe full of free-spirited fire.
My embracer of epics, my lover of losers, my champion of children, and my forgiver of fools.
I play the role I'm cast to be from euphoria to catastrophe a prince, a king, a duke, an earl
The keeper of this precious pearl, my love, my life, my little girl.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod
A willowy young woman where once walked a child immersed in the innocent years of her youth
She summons my soul through her mother's eyes and deepens my spirit with my own heart
She drinks in life as once did I with guiltless gulps and sanguine swallows
She savors it's sweetness with droplets of dalliance dancing for joy down her slim-slender chin
She croons a carefree chorus of her choosing and dreams the dappled desires of youth.
Proving that passion means always believing, she discovers the forgotten faith that lose
She's a tempestuous tryer of my pitiable patience, a formidable foe full of free-spirited fire.
My embracer of epics, my lover of losers, my champion of children, and my forgiver of fools.
I play the role I'm cast to be from euphoria to catastrophe a prince, a king, a duke, an earl
The keeper of this precious pearl, my love, my life, my little girl.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Victory
Day 300
Triumph, because you're the last soldier standing
Conquer, by not giving in to your fear
Fend off your own inner demon's demanding
Defend everything that you've ever held dear
Surge with all of the strength in your being
Fight with the very last breath in your chest
Stand when the allies around you are fleeing
Rage on and render your skills to the test
Never give up! Never give in!
Never surrender your soul!
Never commit the unpardonable sin.
Force it to swallow you whole.
Press on, my son, though the enemy advances
Ride out to meet him at first light of day
Spur on your charger no matter your chances
Crying aloud, as you enter the fray
Reach deep within you for strength not your own
Unleash the fury of a terrible dream
Mangling muscle and shattering bone
The earth and the heavens resound as you scream
Never give up! Never give in!
Never surrender your soul!
Never commit the unpardonable sin.
Force it to swallow you whole.
Stand watch o'er the shells of the warriors now sleeping
Bind the torn fibers of your war-ravaged mind
Drink mad mournful tears from the bugle now weeping
For lovers and children and friends left behind
Scrub yourself free of the gore from the battle
Note all the bruises and scars that won't heal
Set yourself steady again the saddle
For these are the wounds only time can conceal
Never give up! Never give in!
Never surrender your soul!
Never commit the unpardonable sin.
Force it to swallow you whole.
Force it to swallow you whole.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod
Triumph, because you're the last soldier standing
Conquer, by not giving in to your fear
Fend off your own inner demon's demanding
Defend everything that you've ever held dear
Surge with all of the strength in your being
Fight with the very last breath in your chest
Stand when the allies around you are fleeing
Rage on and render your skills to the test
Never give up! Never give in!
Never surrender your soul!
Never commit the unpardonable sin.
Force it to swallow you whole.
Press on, my son, though the enemy advances
Ride out to meet him at first light of day
Spur on your charger no matter your chances
Crying aloud, as you enter the fray
Reach deep within you for strength not your own
Unleash the fury of a terrible dream
Mangling muscle and shattering bone
The earth and the heavens resound as you scream
Never give up! Never give in!
Never surrender your soul!
Never commit the unpardonable sin.
Force it to swallow you whole.
Stand watch o'er the shells of the warriors now sleeping
Bind the torn fibers of your war-ravaged mind
Drink mad mournful tears from the bugle now weeping
For lovers and children and friends left behind
Scrub yourself free of the gore from the battle
Note all the bruises and scars that won't heal
Set yourself steady again the saddle
For these are the wounds only time can conceal
Never give up! Never give in!
Never surrender your soul!
Never commit the unpardonable sin.
Force it to swallow you whole.
Force it to swallow you whole.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod
Monday, December 13, 2010
Christmas Trees and Crazy People
Day 292
"O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree, I wish you had some symmetry..."
For all of the heavy and serious things I have posted on this blog, I thought I would share something light-hearted today. Anyone who suffers from OCD knows that some of the things we do are just funny. As I've written before, one of my main issues is perfectionism. I struggle with the need to have things be even, straight, and symmetrical. This can bring about some interesting challenges.
I am a "real tree" person. I grew up in a "real tree" family. I married a "real tree" woman and we are raising a generation of "real tree" kids. All of my grandparents, many of my family members, and most of my friends were "fake tree" people. I tried not to hold it against them. The crazy part of me could actually appreciate the symmetrical nature of these plastic pines, and, let's be honest, they hold presents as well as the real ones. Still, there's something about unboxing a synthetic spruce carried up from the basement that has always seemed lazy to me. There's just something about the smell of real pine that ushers in the holiday season. It mixes so well with cinnamon, cloves, and sugar.
The odd thing about my "real tree" obsession is that it actually competes with my perfection obsession. Think about it, have you ever seen a perfectly symmetrical tree with a straight trunk, perfectly green needles, and a perfect top branch so that the star or the angel isn't crooked? Oh sure, you may get one or two of those characteristics, but not all them. Choosing a tree, then, becomes a process of giving up some of the things that bug me in order to achieve others that I like. This seems entirely reasonable to normal people, but for crazy people, it becomes "Which one of these imperfect trees sucks the least." Not exactly a touching Hallmark holiday sentiment, huh?
This year it was nice to be able to admit to my lovely wife, as we were wandering the rows of tree possibilities, that this is a problem for me. In the past, I simply tried to hide it and often ended up just grumping through the experience. We chose a tree this year with most of the qualifications I desired and later this week, we'll bring it into our home to be part of our Christmas celebration. Then we'll have to decorate it and that carries with it a whole other set of issues, but one thing at a time, right?
Next Tuesday is Day 300, I'm working on something appropriate for the occasion. In the meantime, make the most of this holiday season, and go get a tree. It'll do you good.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
First Snow
Day 280
"Normal" has never been a term that fit me. "Creative," "Fascinating," "Strange," "Gifted," "Weird," "Odd," "Rebellious," "Recalcitrant," or "Crazy," but not "Normal." However, even people who have "Crazy" going on, often follow patterns that some may call normalities. Battling increasing amounts of anxiety and depression during the winter months is one of those things. I can't even get this right.
I love winter. I like cold weather. I live for snow. Don't get me wrong, I fight the frozen blues like many other folks, but not until late January or early February. October through December is my favorite season. And today I received one of my favorite gifts - the first snow.
Nothing beats the first snow. It's just cold enough to make flakes, but not so cold that you feel miserable. You can feel the crystallized confetti kiss your face. You can taste it on your tongue as the first snap of icy chill clears the pollen out of your head and wakes you up from the decongestant fog of summer.
Yeah, the sky is gray and the trees are bare, but God is sprinkling the powdered sugar of heaven all around you. The steam rises from your favorite stone mug as you pour in the first hot chocolate of the season. Cold on the outside, but warm on the inside. It sure beats living the other way around.
To those of you who are experiencing very real increases in your struggles as winter sets in, please know that my thoughts are with you. Gray skies and holiday stress can combine for a nasty cocktail. Let's hang in there together, take our pills, say our prayers, and survive one day at a time. You might also try playing in the snow.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Equations
Day 258
Equation number one: Money and Time are interchangeable. You can always get more of one by spending the other. This is an important thing to understand. Working in marketing, I have had the opportunity to make the acquaintance of some very wealthy and influential people. Most folks don't understand that making millions is not as complicated as they think. Anyone can do it, really. You just have to be willing to take calculated risks with your resources and work all the freaking time. The only insurance you have against failure and financial ruin is your willingness to work harder than everyone else to make your risks pay off. This will cost you time - days, nights, weekends, holidays, etc.
As your resources grow, you'll have more money. You, then, use the money to buy back your time. The trick is not getting so caught up in the pursuit that you forget to "get out" down the line. Most people are simply not willing to invest the time necessary to gain the wealth in the first place. Even fewer set goals up front and establish the accountability to help them remember to buy back their time when the work pays off.
Equation number two: Everyone whores out to something. The best we can hope for is to get to say "who," "when," and "how much." This may sound a bit pessimistic, but it's true. Sooner or later we choose to sell ourselves to something. It could be an ideal, it could be money, it could be religion, it could be a relationship, whatever. The happiest people I know are the ones who have determined for themselves the "who," the "when," and the "how much." Selling out feels a lot less like selling out and when you name your own parameters.
I heard it said once that an entrepreneur is someone who will work 80 hours a week for himself to keep from working 40 hours a week for someone else. A very good friend and mentor taught me that the only real job security in the world is in my head. It's my ability to adapt and learn, to kill it and drag it home, to resist those who would try to confine me by defining me. My gift for reinventing myself has kept me alive in the lean times and brought me success in the fat ones. I've learned that I'm happier when I'm saying "who," "when," and "how much."
Why do I share these equations with you? I share them to bring you some measure of inspiration. I have chosen to work through my issues-whatever it takes. I have also chosen to not let the "crazy" confine me by defining me. I will adapt. I will reinvent. I will work harder than everyone else. I will deal with this thing on my terms and, ultimately, prevail. You can too. It's not easy. It's not simple. It's not fun. But it's life and, by taking it head on, I'll ultimately be the one who decides how it turns out. You can too. Do the math.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Follow Up About Fade Outs
Day 239
They're called dissociative episodes. The simplest way to describe it is to say that my brain reaches it's limit for stimuli and just shuts down.
My brain doesn't actually turn off. It wanders, thinking in a continuous stream of consciousness while I check out of reality and stare off into space.
Doc Brown says that they can be managed by scheduling "down time" for myself. Even if it's just 15 minutes of meditation or a quiet walk. This will be a challenge since my life tends to be an endless flow of projects and deadlines.
I'll have to learn the importance of these periodic breaks. I may even need to set my alarm to remind me at first. We'll see how it goes. I'll keep you informed.
They're called dissociative episodes. The simplest way to describe it is to say that my brain reaches it's limit for stimuli and just shuts down.
My brain doesn't actually turn off. It wanders, thinking in a continuous stream of consciousness while I check out of reality and stare off into space.
Doc Brown says that they can be managed by scheduling "down time" for myself. Even if it's just 15 minutes of meditation or a quiet walk. This will be a challenge since my life tends to be an endless flow of projects and deadlines.
I'll have to learn the importance of these periodic breaks. I may even need to set my alarm to remind me at first. We'll see how it goes. I'll keep you informed.
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