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.