I’m sure that no one will be surprised when I say there are things about who I am that I have never shared with anyone else. Nor will I ever share them. Some are embarrassing. Some are stupid and some are completely out there.
Not that I’m a closet serial killer or anything crazy. I just know that deep inside of me are things that the people I know wouldn’t accept. My friends and family are very practical people. They base their entire lives on the world around them. Cars, home, friends, jobs, bills, etc. There isn’t any room for things that don’t immediately lead to money or status.
I’ve always been a dreamer. Connected to the world only by the most tenuous of threads. Anchored here by my choices, like everyone else, but not really fitting into a convenient mold.
Black dreamers are shunned. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.
Every time I’ve tried to mire myself in the mendacity of life it never works. I end up severely depressed and out of sorts. Usually it takes a trip to the ocean to cure this. Or cooking for a lot of people. Cooking always seems to help moderate my mental status.
But I’ve noticed one thing that has become a real problem.
Since I have to live in the world in order to support myself and my family, I have to suppress the parts of me that want to dream. Dreaming isn’t logical when the mortgage is due. I also have to block the childish part that ‘wants what it wants right now…dammit’! This part is responsible for a lot of my sex drive, but that obviously has to be controlled since I am trying to build businesses in both the profit and non-profit world.
Although, I do sometimes wonder if a blast of sexual energy could be beneficial in business meetings. People tend to gravitate towards people that are attractive. Human beings have build millions of businesses out of the same energy that drives sexuality and desire for fulfillment.
The problem with all this fracturing is I will tend to live my life in chunks separated by what I am doing at that moment. Instead of being a whole person all the time, I will be one way with business partners, one way with my family, and yet another way with friends and acquaintances. Given enough time I won’t know who the fuck I am anymore. Am I the businessman? Am I the father? Am I the husband, the son, the brother, the friend? A combination of all of them? At which point do I switch it all off and just be me? And since I brought that up, what exactly does ‘me’ mean? I have a friend who swears that the part that thinks it is ‘me’ is my ego and it’s trying to kill anything good that might happen just so it can stay alive in its status quo. He says that each time I fail at something it’s because my ego sensed its own impending death and found a way to talk me out of the change.
I wonder if this is why so many people seem two-faced or wishy-washy. They have spent so long developing different personalities for different occasions (protecting their ego) that they have completely forgotten who they truly are. They bury parts of themselves so deep that it’s impossible to remember anything of value about their inner being. No wonder so many humans are borderline schizophrenic.
The Wikipedia entry defines it this way –
Schizophrenia (pronounced /ˌskɪtsəˈfrɛniə/ or pronounced /ˌskɪtsəˈfriːniə/), from the Greek roots skhizein (σχίζειν, "to split") and phrēn, phren- (φρήν, φρεν-, "mind") is a psychiatric diagnosis that describes a mental disorder characterized by abnormalities in the perception or expression of reality. It most commonly manifests as auditory hallucinations, paranoid or bizarre delusions, or disorganized speech and thinking with significant social or occupational dysfunction. Onset of symptoms typically occurs in young adulthood,[1] with approximately 0.4–0.6%[2][3] of the population affected. Diagnosis is based on the patient's self-reported experiences and observed behavior.
The article goes on to say this –
The disorder is thought to mainly affect cognition, but it also usually contributes to chronic problems with behavior and emotion. People with schizophrenia are likely to have additional (comorbid) conditions, including major depression and anxiety disorders;[7] the lifetime occurrence of substance abuse is around 40%. Social problems, such as long-term unemployment, poverty and homelessness, are common. Furthermore, the average life expectancy of people with the disorder is 10 to 12 years less than those without, due to increased physical health problems and a higher suicide rate
Hell, the whole article is worth reading –
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schizophrenia
So add to that stew our desire to fit in with society, sometimes at all costs. I am no different than anyone else. I want to be loved and needed. I want to feel valued and know that my contributions matter. I know that I have done things that go against who I am in order to fit in.
That’s not even news. What is fascinating is the effect that long term exposure to that kind of thinking has done to my life. It’s hard to feel like I am in charge when I’ve fractured myself to fit the situation so much.
It’s only now, at 43, that I realize I can’t live this way anymore. Falling into someone else’s orbit isn’t acceptable because I realize I will never be the writer I want to be unless I change.
That’s why I picked honesty and focus for this year. I would have failed miserably if I’d just made some stupid resolution to lose weight or something. That shit never works. But this..
This is working very well.
Peace.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Escaping childhood
Or can you?
If I do an honest assessment of who I am now I am convinced that I have only moved fractionally away from the person I was as a child.
As a child I –
· Loved science and science fiction (movies, TV shows, novels, short stories, it didn’t matter so long as there was a spaceship or an alien)
· Thought horror movies were the coolest thing ever
· Love to try to write stories to entertain myself
· Loved to spend time by myself in the woods or on the beach
· Avoided large crowds of people or enclosed spaces
· Felt that most people could be trusted – to a point
· Worried that I didn’t fit in with my family or friends
· Worried about the future and what kind of life I would have as a poor child from the projects
· Wondered if I would ever meet someone who loved me for who I really was
· Was terrified of the alcoholic dentist that we went to
· Loved the old radio serials from the 40’s and 50’s
· Truly believed that Humphrey Bogart was the best actor of all time
· Never noticed that there weren’t any black people in the old Saturday morning scifi movies that I loved so much (and didn’t really care)
And things haven’t really changed all that much since I’ve become an ‘adult’ –
· Love science and science fiction (movies, TV shows, novels, short stories, it doesn’t matter so long as there was a spaceship or an alien, but my tastes have changed a bit to be more sophisticated)
· Think horror movies have largely given way to loads of fake blood being thrown all over the set instead of inspiring true fear
· Still love to try to write stories to entertain myself (but all of a sudden it isn’t as much fun as it used to be)
· Love to spend time by myself in the woods or on the beach (just have to plan ahead now)
· Avoided large crowds of people or enclosed spaces (this hasn’t changed at all)
· Feel that most people can be trusted – to a point
· Still don’t fit in with my family or friends (especially since I stopped drinking)
· Worried about the future and what kind of life I would have as a man who is determined to find his own way
· Know that it’s possible to meet someone who loves me for me, but now I wonder how much of myself it’s safe to share
· Still isn’t all that fond of dentist or the dentistry profession
· Still loves the old radio serials from the 40’s and 50’s (just listen to them on my iPod now)
· Truly believed that Humphrey Bogart was the best actor of all time (Yep!)
· Never noticed that there weren’t any black people in the old Saturday morning scifi movies that I loved so much (and didn’t really care)(but now I am aware and pissed off for the fact that it has ruined the nostalgic feeling of watching the movies. I can’t just enjoy them for their own merits, everything is about whether there are black people in it…)
On the whole the only thing that really ‘changed’ was that I discovered sex. And I’ll be honest, I don’t know how much of a benefit that was. Sex is cool and all, but I apparently don’t know the difference between what’s supposed to be ‘normal’ and what is supposed to be ‘extreme’ or ‘too much’. But that topic is for another blog entry.
Right now I want to further examine the aspect of my seeming lack of change from then to now. I consider my childhood up to the point that we moved to California and I met the first girl I had sex with. I was 15. It totally stopped every other thought running through my head and as far as I’m concerned it started the path to adulthood that I am still on.
I choose this point because it was a major crossroads in creating ‘me’. Up to that point all I cared about was hanging out with my friends, playing D&D, riding my bike and otherwise being left alone. After that first time, lots of things that used to matter stopped being important.
I began planning for the future. I began to realize that life would change drastically, especially after I graduated. I can’t be sure, but I think that was the thought process that made me sign up for the military at 16 and then leave home before my 18th birthday. But through it all, I never really ‘changed’. My focus was different since I was no longer a child with child wants and needs. Who I was inside didn’t shift at all.
It wasn’t really until recently that I’ve begun to feel the pull of mortality. Having the first job that I’d ever had where injuries were common sort of woke me up to the vulnerability of my body. Having a job where mental abuse was common woke me up to the vulnerability of my mind and spirit. And then there was the damned foreclosure…
Despite all that, I still feel the same inside. I still like everything that’s on the list above. I still feel the same dislikes and have the same fears. That’s what got me to wondering if people ever really change.
Yes they get older and their tastes alter. Tastes in clothes, friends, foods, sexual habits, etc. But they don’t really ‘change’. There are people I’ve known my entire 43 years who are, at their core, the same person they were when we were kids together in Utica.
A lot of my current friends are the same people they were when I met them 5, 10 or 20 years ago. They still eat, drink, hang out, smoke weed, fuck, get screwed and communicate the same way they did when I met them. Sometimes they have to modify their diet due to some new ailment or fad diet, but that’s not a true change.
In my time I’ve never met anyone who has done a complete 180 paradigm shift from who they are. No one had gone from being an alcoholic to being a sober priest. No one has left the projects and become a multi millionaire business owner.
And the evidence is all over the news and media outlets. Even people who become huge music or movie stars aren’t able to leave who they are behind them. For reference think about people like Mike Vick, Kurt Cobain, hip-hop singer Chris Brown, Tupac, Notorious BIG, rapper T.I., Michael Jackson, O.J. Simpson, Britney Spears, Miley Cyrus, and the list goes on and on.
These are people at the top of their game. They have money flowing out of every orifice and yet they still end up in trouble or in jail, or dead. They have thousands of adoring fans and the world at their fingertips. But they cannot let go of who they are inside. Makes me wonder just how far they are from who they were as kids.
Your childhood shapes you. I know a man who is a professional writer. He is good at what he does and he loves the life he’s built for himself. But he’s told me stories of being beat up by bullies at his school. Those events led him to martial arts. He still practices martial arts to this day. And that’s what I mean by events shape who you are. If he hadn’t been bullied would he have gone into martial arts? Would the same need that drove him have even existed? And was the need based on fear of being beat up again, maybe even as an adult? So from this arc of being a scared kid to adult, not much has changed. The feelings of back then forced an alteration, but didn’t change the base reality. He now knows how to take care of himself, but he’s admitted that the fear of being hit or injured is still there. He doesn’t care for sparring for that very reason.
Maybe I’m off on this one a bit, but I don’t think so.
If I do an honest assessment of who I am now I am convinced that I have only moved fractionally away from the person I was as a child.
As a child I –
· Loved science and science fiction (movies, TV shows, novels, short stories, it didn’t matter so long as there was a spaceship or an alien)
· Thought horror movies were the coolest thing ever
· Love to try to write stories to entertain myself
· Loved to spend time by myself in the woods or on the beach
· Avoided large crowds of people or enclosed spaces
· Felt that most people could be trusted – to a point
· Worried that I didn’t fit in with my family or friends
· Worried about the future and what kind of life I would have as a poor child from the projects
· Wondered if I would ever meet someone who loved me for who I really was
· Was terrified of the alcoholic dentist that we went to
· Loved the old radio serials from the 40’s and 50’s
· Truly believed that Humphrey Bogart was the best actor of all time
· Never noticed that there weren’t any black people in the old Saturday morning scifi movies that I loved so much (and didn’t really care)
And things haven’t really changed all that much since I’ve become an ‘adult’ –
· Love science and science fiction (movies, TV shows, novels, short stories, it doesn’t matter so long as there was a spaceship or an alien, but my tastes have changed a bit to be more sophisticated)
· Think horror movies have largely given way to loads of fake blood being thrown all over the set instead of inspiring true fear
· Still love to try to write stories to entertain myself (but all of a sudden it isn’t as much fun as it used to be)
· Love to spend time by myself in the woods or on the beach (just have to plan ahead now)
· Avoided large crowds of people or enclosed spaces (this hasn’t changed at all)
· Feel that most people can be trusted – to a point
· Still don’t fit in with my family or friends (especially since I stopped drinking)
· Worried about the future and what kind of life I would have as a man who is determined to find his own way
· Know that it’s possible to meet someone who loves me for me, but now I wonder how much of myself it’s safe to share
· Still isn’t all that fond of dentist or the dentistry profession
· Still loves the old radio serials from the 40’s and 50’s (just listen to them on my iPod now)
· Truly believed that Humphrey Bogart was the best actor of all time (Yep!)
· Never noticed that there weren’t any black people in the old Saturday morning scifi movies that I loved so much (and didn’t really care)(but now I am aware and pissed off for the fact that it has ruined the nostalgic feeling of watching the movies. I can’t just enjoy them for their own merits, everything is about whether there are black people in it…)
On the whole the only thing that really ‘changed’ was that I discovered sex. And I’ll be honest, I don’t know how much of a benefit that was. Sex is cool and all, but I apparently don’t know the difference between what’s supposed to be ‘normal’ and what is supposed to be ‘extreme’ or ‘too much’. But that topic is for another blog entry.
Right now I want to further examine the aspect of my seeming lack of change from then to now. I consider my childhood up to the point that we moved to California and I met the first girl I had sex with. I was 15. It totally stopped every other thought running through my head and as far as I’m concerned it started the path to adulthood that I am still on.
I choose this point because it was a major crossroads in creating ‘me’. Up to that point all I cared about was hanging out with my friends, playing D&D, riding my bike and otherwise being left alone. After that first time, lots of things that used to matter stopped being important.
I began planning for the future. I began to realize that life would change drastically, especially after I graduated. I can’t be sure, but I think that was the thought process that made me sign up for the military at 16 and then leave home before my 18th birthday. But through it all, I never really ‘changed’. My focus was different since I was no longer a child with child wants and needs. Who I was inside didn’t shift at all.
It wasn’t really until recently that I’ve begun to feel the pull of mortality. Having the first job that I’d ever had where injuries were common sort of woke me up to the vulnerability of my body. Having a job where mental abuse was common woke me up to the vulnerability of my mind and spirit. And then there was the damned foreclosure…
Despite all that, I still feel the same inside. I still like everything that’s on the list above. I still feel the same dislikes and have the same fears. That’s what got me to wondering if people ever really change.
Yes they get older and their tastes alter. Tastes in clothes, friends, foods, sexual habits, etc. But they don’t really ‘change’. There are people I’ve known my entire 43 years who are, at their core, the same person they were when we were kids together in Utica.
A lot of my current friends are the same people they were when I met them 5, 10 or 20 years ago. They still eat, drink, hang out, smoke weed, fuck, get screwed and communicate the same way they did when I met them. Sometimes they have to modify their diet due to some new ailment or fad diet, but that’s not a true change.
In my time I’ve never met anyone who has done a complete 180 paradigm shift from who they are. No one had gone from being an alcoholic to being a sober priest. No one has left the projects and become a multi millionaire business owner.
And the evidence is all over the news and media outlets. Even people who become huge music or movie stars aren’t able to leave who they are behind them. For reference think about people like Mike Vick, Kurt Cobain, hip-hop singer Chris Brown, Tupac, Notorious BIG, rapper T.I., Michael Jackson, O.J. Simpson, Britney Spears, Miley Cyrus, and the list goes on and on.
These are people at the top of their game. They have money flowing out of every orifice and yet they still end up in trouble or in jail, or dead. They have thousands of adoring fans and the world at their fingertips. But they cannot let go of who they are inside. Makes me wonder just how far they are from who they were as kids.
Your childhood shapes you. I know a man who is a professional writer. He is good at what he does and he loves the life he’s built for himself. But he’s told me stories of being beat up by bullies at his school. Those events led him to martial arts. He still practices martial arts to this day. And that’s what I mean by events shape who you are. If he hadn’t been bullied would he have gone into martial arts? Would the same need that drove him have even existed? And was the need based on fear of being beat up again, maybe even as an adult? So from this arc of being a scared kid to adult, not much has changed. The feelings of back then forced an alteration, but didn’t change the base reality. He now knows how to take care of himself, but he’s admitted that the fear of being hit or injured is still there. He doesn’t care for sparring for that very reason.
Maybe I’m off on this one a bit, but I don’t think so.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Life after foreclosure
To those of you still mired in the foreclosure monster of doom, let me give you a word of encouragement from the far side of the tunnel.
The world doesn’t stop spinning because you lose your house.
I know that sounds a bit blunt, but I have to be honest. I went through the whole gamut of emotions that result when you realize that nothing you do will save the place that you are living and most likely consider home. From denial to anger to acceptance, I didn’t skip a single phase. I laughed, I cried, I screamed at the universe about how unfair it all was. I even questioned the sanity of homeownership as an institution. With this many people losing their homes, isn’t it kind of odd that the ultimate expression of ‘making it in America’ has always been purchasing a home?
The oddest aspect of the whole affair was how I was treated by people with whom I shared the truth. I had people who say they care about me shrug and walk away. I also had some wonderfully upbeat people enter my life. My wife and I sweated out many sleepless nights and the stress level became totally unbearable for a while. My average night’s sleep has been between 3.5 to 5 hours per night.
Sometimes a lot less.
I discovered something wonderful though. After calling everyone I could call. After reams of paperwork and loan modifications and strained phone conversations with strangers in different states – when everything seemed at its darkest ebb, I realized that we weren’t our home.
If you remain in one place long enough it becomes an extension of who you are. There’s nothing unusual about this. It extends to all areas of your life. Remember the phrase ‘You are what you eat’? -it’s the same thing with other aspects of life. Humans get used to all kinds of circumstances, situations and collusions. As a species we identify with the people and things that fill our lives. So it’s not a stretch to understand why so many people go through incredible pain and tribulation when it comes time to get a car or home repossessed. As a former tow truck driver I’ve seen firsthand how people act when you try to take things that they consider theirs. These events are often ugly, violent, and extremely human.
But what had to happen in order to keep my sanity and my family together was to realize and act on the fact that even though we loved our little house – ultimately, it’s just a house. A building with walls and windows. A hole in the ground that we throw our money into.
Our HOME is me, my wife, and our children. It also is made up of our true friends, close family and the interactions that make it all work. Our HOME is made of the time we spend together doing things that family does – living, loving, arguing, laughing, crying and growing together.
Should you find yourself in the unfortunate place remember something - you are a happy, loving individual. Probably with a family and friends who care a great deal about you. You probably have co-workers, church brothers and sisters, a mailman and the local 7/11 worker who care about you. (Even the guy or girl in the 7/11 cares more than your mortgage company - trust me). You are not a number on a balance sheet. You are not a statistic to be casually tossed around by some idiot on wall street or in Washington who’s trying to make a point. You won’t die and if you don’t give up and fold over you won’t even be homeless.
Remember to breathe.
And think! Never forget that you are able to work through any adversity so long as you don’t allow your mind to shut down. It’s true that you will lose your bearings from time to time. You will be afraid. You will be angry. Accept them for what they are, emotions responding to a stimulus, and then keep it moving.
You will be okay, trust and believe it.
Peace.
The world doesn’t stop spinning because you lose your house.
I know that sounds a bit blunt, but I have to be honest. I went through the whole gamut of emotions that result when you realize that nothing you do will save the place that you are living and most likely consider home. From denial to anger to acceptance, I didn’t skip a single phase. I laughed, I cried, I screamed at the universe about how unfair it all was. I even questioned the sanity of homeownership as an institution. With this many people losing their homes, isn’t it kind of odd that the ultimate expression of ‘making it in America’ has always been purchasing a home?
The oddest aspect of the whole affair was how I was treated by people with whom I shared the truth. I had people who say they care about me shrug and walk away. I also had some wonderfully upbeat people enter my life. My wife and I sweated out many sleepless nights and the stress level became totally unbearable for a while. My average night’s sleep has been between 3.5 to 5 hours per night.
Sometimes a lot less.
I discovered something wonderful though. After calling everyone I could call. After reams of paperwork and loan modifications and strained phone conversations with strangers in different states – when everything seemed at its darkest ebb, I realized that we weren’t our home.
If you remain in one place long enough it becomes an extension of who you are. There’s nothing unusual about this. It extends to all areas of your life. Remember the phrase ‘You are what you eat’? -it’s the same thing with other aspects of life. Humans get used to all kinds of circumstances, situations and collusions. As a species we identify with the people and things that fill our lives. So it’s not a stretch to understand why so many people go through incredible pain and tribulation when it comes time to get a car or home repossessed. As a former tow truck driver I’ve seen firsthand how people act when you try to take things that they consider theirs. These events are often ugly, violent, and extremely human.
But what had to happen in order to keep my sanity and my family together was to realize and act on the fact that even though we loved our little house – ultimately, it’s just a house. A building with walls and windows. A hole in the ground that we throw our money into.
Our HOME is me, my wife, and our children. It also is made up of our true friends, close family and the interactions that make it all work. Our HOME is made of the time we spend together doing things that family does – living, loving, arguing, laughing, crying and growing together.
Should you find yourself in the unfortunate place remember something - you are a happy, loving individual. Probably with a family and friends who care a great deal about you. You probably have co-workers, church brothers and sisters, a mailman and the local 7/11 worker who care about you. (Even the guy or girl in the 7/11 cares more than your mortgage company - trust me). You are not a number on a balance sheet. You are not a statistic to be casually tossed around by some idiot on wall street or in Washington who’s trying to make a point. You won’t die and if you don’t give up and fold over you won’t even be homeless.
Remember to breathe.
And think! Never forget that you are able to work through any adversity so long as you don’t allow your mind to shut down. It’s true that you will lose your bearings from time to time. You will be afraid. You will be angry. Accept them for what they are, emotions responding to a stimulus, and then keep it moving.
You will be okay, trust and believe it.
Peace.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Health
Health is a funny thing.
When you have it in abundance you don’t think about it. When you are sick it’s the only thing you wish for.
The problem is, since in normal times your health is the last thing on your mind, the inclination is not to do anything about it. Exercise and good nutrition take a back seat to the everyday stresses of life. Daily activities take up time in a way that make something as labor intensive as lifting weights or even going for a walk nearly impossible. It is true that everyone, even the most busy of us are not truly ‘that’ busy, but we manage to make enough excuses that simple exercise and nutrition get ignored.
Or if you are anything like me, it moves beyond disregard into the realm of callous contempt. Not only was I not working out or eating right, I was drinking way too much, sleeping less than 5 hours per night for months at a time, forcing myself to work through pain and injury, and generally treating my body like a 15 dollar whore. And to top it all off, I had a job that I absolutely hated and it showed in my every action and feeling. I hated getting up in the morning to go there, I hated being there and I hated going home each night knowing that I would have to go back.
It got inside and did a number on my mind and naturally my body followed.
Never let anyone tell you that your mind isn’t the most powerful force in the world. If you are convinced in your mind that you are sick, your body WILL agree with you. Stress starts in the mind but if its left unchecked, it will affect your physical body. What started as occasional headaches became overall body pain. That morphed into even less sleep, no dreams when I did sleep, and an increase in the amount of alcohol I was drinking trying to make myself sleep.
Ultimately it culminated in an event that scared the hell out of me.
One day at work, for no reason that I can figure, I experienced an intensely sharp pain in my head above my left eye. When the pain was over and I could see again without it hurting I realized that the entire left side of my body had gone numb. Talk about panic attack city. It lasted for about an hour. I could still move my arm and leg, but I couldn’t feel them. I pinched myself a few times and it was extremely eerie that I couldn’t feel the fingers of my right hand touching the skin on my left arm. It didn’t hurt, it was just numb.
Like I said, about an hour later I got a pins and needles sensation and I realized that I could feel them again. I didn’t tell anyone about it at work. I didn’t say anything about it to my wife until later. I did still go drink with my friends on their back deck. The cold air felt good to me and helped me get my bearings back.
I realize that I probably had a mini stroke. It’s not that I didn’t care, but what was I supposed to do? The doctor was out of the question. I’d recently been to the ER and since we don’t have insurance I wasn’t interested in putting us even more into debt. I am still paying for other medical stuff. Plus, I felt fine now. No loss of motor control, no slurring, no lasting pain or numbness. Personally I think it was a physical reaction to the stress I was feeling at work and my body took the only route it had open to get my attention.
I’ve suffered with panic attacks my whole life. I chalked this up to one hell of a grand mal attack. Later on when things got weird again I did finally go back to the doctor. 6 visits, an MRI, a CAT scan and a barium test later they determined that I have a 2mm aneurism in my brain on the left side behind my eye. Did it cause the pain and numbness? They don’t know. I went to a specialist but he wanted me to have surgery, something that wasn’t going to happen without insurance. So after talking with my regular doctor and doing some reading on my own I realized that I’d just have to live with it and hope that it didn’t get any bigger. I still have weird headaches and this tingling feeling from time to time. It feels a bit like a tight hat sitting over the top of my head, I’ve come to call it ‘helmet head’. It doesn’t hurt, but it feels…strange.
Anyway, I started this blog as a warning to myself and anyone else who reads it. When your health is on the line it’s not a good idea to ignore it. Drinking won’t make it better. Hanging out with people to all hours of the morning won’t make it better. Hating your job and not doing anything about it won’t make it better. Acting like it isn’t helping won’t make it better.
The only choice you have is to realize that you only get one body and you have to take care of it, regardless of how much ‘work’ it takes. Granted, we all live only until we die, but I am of the mind that your time alive should be spent as healthy as possible so that you get the benefit. If you are always sick there’s no fun in that.
And if you are sick through indifference, that’s even worse.
When you have it in abundance you don’t think about it. When you are sick it’s the only thing you wish for.
The problem is, since in normal times your health is the last thing on your mind, the inclination is not to do anything about it. Exercise and good nutrition take a back seat to the everyday stresses of life. Daily activities take up time in a way that make something as labor intensive as lifting weights or even going for a walk nearly impossible. It is true that everyone, even the most busy of us are not truly ‘that’ busy, but we manage to make enough excuses that simple exercise and nutrition get ignored.
Or if you are anything like me, it moves beyond disregard into the realm of callous contempt. Not only was I not working out or eating right, I was drinking way too much, sleeping less than 5 hours per night for months at a time, forcing myself to work through pain and injury, and generally treating my body like a 15 dollar whore. And to top it all off, I had a job that I absolutely hated and it showed in my every action and feeling. I hated getting up in the morning to go there, I hated being there and I hated going home each night knowing that I would have to go back.
It got inside and did a number on my mind and naturally my body followed.
Never let anyone tell you that your mind isn’t the most powerful force in the world. If you are convinced in your mind that you are sick, your body WILL agree with you. Stress starts in the mind but if its left unchecked, it will affect your physical body. What started as occasional headaches became overall body pain. That morphed into even less sleep, no dreams when I did sleep, and an increase in the amount of alcohol I was drinking trying to make myself sleep.
Ultimately it culminated in an event that scared the hell out of me.
One day at work, for no reason that I can figure, I experienced an intensely sharp pain in my head above my left eye. When the pain was over and I could see again without it hurting I realized that the entire left side of my body had gone numb. Talk about panic attack city. It lasted for about an hour. I could still move my arm and leg, but I couldn’t feel them. I pinched myself a few times and it was extremely eerie that I couldn’t feel the fingers of my right hand touching the skin on my left arm. It didn’t hurt, it was just numb.
Like I said, about an hour later I got a pins and needles sensation and I realized that I could feel them again. I didn’t tell anyone about it at work. I didn’t say anything about it to my wife until later. I did still go drink with my friends on their back deck. The cold air felt good to me and helped me get my bearings back.
I realize that I probably had a mini stroke. It’s not that I didn’t care, but what was I supposed to do? The doctor was out of the question. I’d recently been to the ER and since we don’t have insurance I wasn’t interested in putting us even more into debt. I am still paying for other medical stuff. Plus, I felt fine now. No loss of motor control, no slurring, no lasting pain or numbness. Personally I think it was a physical reaction to the stress I was feeling at work and my body took the only route it had open to get my attention.
I’ve suffered with panic attacks my whole life. I chalked this up to one hell of a grand mal attack. Later on when things got weird again I did finally go back to the doctor. 6 visits, an MRI, a CAT scan and a barium test later they determined that I have a 2mm aneurism in my brain on the left side behind my eye. Did it cause the pain and numbness? They don’t know. I went to a specialist but he wanted me to have surgery, something that wasn’t going to happen without insurance. So after talking with my regular doctor and doing some reading on my own I realized that I’d just have to live with it and hope that it didn’t get any bigger. I still have weird headaches and this tingling feeling from time to time. It feels a bit like a tight hat sitting over the top of my head, I’ve come to call it ‘helmet head’. It doesn’t hurt, but it feels…strange.
Anyway, I started this blog as a warning to myself and anyone else who reads it. When your health is on the line it’s not a good idea to ignore it. Drinking won’t make it better. Hanging out with people to all hours of the morning won’t make it better. Hating your job and not doing anything about it won’t make it better. Acting like it isn’t helping won’t make it better.
The only choice you have is to realize that you only get one body and you have to take care of it, regardless of how much ‘work’ it takes. Granted, we all live only until we die, but I am of the mind that your time alive should be spent as healthy as possible so that you get the benefit. If you are always sick there’s no fun in that.
And if you are sick through indifference, that’s even worse.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
...of those who've gone before
Since this year is all about being honest with myself, I have to work through a problem that is preventing my success as a writer.
I am friends with a number of professional authors. Two of these people are making really large strides towards building strong careers and lasting legacies of books and other materials. I have seen them accept awards for their stories and work towards writing for their own television series.
I listen to podcast novels and short stories by a bunch of other authors who have found a way to make a name for themselves in the podosphere. Multiple novels over the course of the year and a half that I’ve had my iPod. I can’t even count how many short stories I’ve heard or read.
You would think that all of this wonderful content and access to talented people would catapult me into the stratosphere of creativity. But please remember, this is me we’re talking about.
It has done the exact opposite.
I have one novel that is 15 chapters in. The story on this one is developing. I wrote the first 15 chapters in a white heat with only a vague idea of where it was all going. I developed one very strong lead character and a cast of supporting characters. I established a mystery to be solved in the first chapter and then added even more questions as it went on. I put the primary character in mortal danger and I even put her in the way of a force that may be stronger than she can handle.
And then the bottom fell out. I started that story two years ago. It’s still at the same point 15 chapters later. I don’t even remember the last time I added anything to it. At this point I would have to re-read the entire thing to remind myself were I was and try to figure out where I was going. Basically this one is dead in the water.
I have another novel that is 10 chapters in. I already know the entire story that this one entails. I know the beginning, most of the middle and the end. I know the primary characters, the basic plot, two of the sub plots and the structure. I know the genre. I know the meme. I know the heroes journey of the two primary characters. I know most everything needed to write the story outline, skeleton and even add some flesh to the bones.
I know that I have to write the rough draft first and that it’s okay if the rough sucks. That’s what rough drafts are for. I’m smart enough to know that I’m not supposed to allow the editor to sit with the writer while he is doing his thing. I also know that the rough is just for me. No one else will ever read it.
Despite knowing all that, this one has been dead in the water for almost 9 months. I got to a point in the story where it felt like I ran into a solid steel wall. And despite a few false starts over the last few months, I haven’t been able to scale or circle around the wall. (Recently I’ve been considering tunneling under it…)
These are just the two I am willing to admit to now. There are several other novel starts that are quite a bit older than these two. One of them goes back more than 20 years.
So, I began to wonder, why is it that I am having such trouble? Why is it that I’ve surrounded myself with writers, published authors, editors, and those who think of themselves as intelligent wordsmiths? Having all of that backup, what is my problem?
When I decided to be honest with myself, I never realized where it might lead. It didn’t occur to me that being honest meant digging out all of the old shit that’s been cluttering up my head all of these years, examining it in the cold light of reality and then making a value decision about what mattered, what was real and what was my foolish imagining. I naively thought that I would be able to just go on with my daily life and maybe fix a few things as they came up. Kind of like holding a starship together with spit and duct tape. Man. Was. I. Wrong.
I’ve spent so long living in other peoples heads trying to figure out how they got what they wanted that I forgot a simple truth about life. My heroes journey has very little to do with the heroes journey of the people I know. Again, I know this sounds obvious, but I’m a bit slow.
I haven’t spent nearly enough time getting into my own head to figure out what I want and who I am. It’s really no wonder that I am having trouble writing. I keep comparing myself to the published authors I know. I wonder why my stories aren’t as good as theirs. I wonder why I feel a pang of jealousy and anger each time I hear a new story by someone I know or even worse, someone I’ve never heard of who managed to sell their first piece on their first try. So, since I don’t know myself, I can’t access the part that tells stories that resonate within me. They come out of desire. They come out of a sheer stubbornness. They come out of a touch of talent, but they DON’T come out of my heart.
I have rejection letters, just like every other writer. I recognize that there is a rite of passage that I apparently haven’t paid enough dues for. That part only mildly annoys me. I know that the price of entry is high.
Social media has become a crutch that I have to scale back on or eliminate entirely. It’s too easy to sit and commiserate with others like me who haven’t published anything. Wallowing in shit is easy, even if it does stink. But there has to be an end point.
I’ve reached mine.
A person who has been a good friend for almost 11 years received an award from the NAACP and instead of feeling elated and enthusiastic, I got a major attack of jealousy. It was their night to shine and though I did feel happiness that their efforts had been rewarded, all I could think about was how much further I had to go.
Time to stop with the Bull. My career. My choice to succeed or fail.
I know what it takes to write a novel. I know what it takes to write a short story. It’s not impossible to do, even for someone who has a history of starting and stopping like I do. So my pledge to myself is the following seven steps:
1. I will ignore social media for the next 90 days until I have finished the rough draft of Hunter.
2. I will stay away from fan sites or author official sites or any other web presence that will tend to make me doubt myself.
3. I will only listen to the older radio shows on my iPod – there is no direct competition from The Shadow, or Gunsmoke or Suspense. I can listen to these and just enjoy the story.
4. I will write a minimum of 500 words per day even if it’s the same word over and over again.
5. I will work towards shutting down the goddamn editor so that the writer can do his thing without being.
6. I will remake the connection with my own mind. I will forge a new link to my heart so that I can concentrate on my own stories.
7. I will give myself a damned break about whether or not I am any good at creating stories.
I’ve seen enough bad ones to know that I can do better.
90 days. Not a life time. Just enough time to write a rough draft and then give myself two or three weeks before starting a new project. Enough time for a new change to become a permanent habit. Enough time to turn things around for good.
Wow.
I am friends with a number of professional authors. Two of these people are making really large strides towards building strong careers and lasting legacies of books and other materials. I have seen them accept awards for their stories and work towards writing for their own television series.
I listen to podcast novels and short stories by a bunch of other authors who have found a way to make a name for themselves in the podosphere. Multiple novels over the course of the year and a half that I’ve had my iPod. I can’t even count how many short stories I’ve heard or read.
You would think that all of this wonderful content and access to talented people would catapult me into the stratosphere of creativity. But please remember, this is me we’re talking about.
It has done the exact opposite.
I have one novel that is 15 chapters in. The story on this one is developing. I wrote the first 15 chapters in a white heat with only a vague idea of where it was all going. I developed one very strong lead character and a cast of supporting characters. I established a mystery to be solved in the first chapter and then added even more questions as it went on. I put the primary character in mortal danger and I even put her in the way of a force that may be stronger than she can handle.
And then the bottom fell out. I started that story two years ago. It’s still at the same point 15 chapters later. I don’t even remember the last time I added anything to it. At this point I would have to re-read the entire thing to remind myself were I was and try to figure out where I was going. Basically this one is dead in the water.
I have another novel that is 10 chapters in. I already know the entire story that this one entails. I know the beginning, most of the middle and the end. I know the primary characters, the basic plot, two of the sub plots and the structure. I know the genre. I know the meme. I know the heroes journey of the two primary characters. I know most everything needed to write the story outline, skeleton and even add some flesh to the bones.
I know that I have to write the rough draft first and that it’s okay if the rough sucks. That’s what rough drafts are for. I’m smart enough to know that I’m not supposed to allow the editor to sit with the writer while he is doing his thing. I also know that the rough is just for me. No one else will ever read it.
Despite knowing all that, this one has been dead in the water for almost 9 months. I got to a point in the story where it felt like I ran into a solid steel wall. And despite a few false starts over the last few months, I haven’t been able to scale or circle around the wall. (Recently I’ve been considering tunneling under it…)
These are just the two I am willing to admit to now. There are several other novel starts that are quite a bit older than these two. One of them goes back more than 20 years.
So, I began to wonder, why is it that I am having such trouble? Why is it that I’ve surrounded myself with writers, published authors, editors, and those who think of themselves as intelligent wordsmiths? Having all of that backup, what is my problem?
When I decided to be honest with myself, I never realized where it might lead. It didn’t occur to me that being honest meant digging out all of the old shit that’s been cluttering up my head all of these years, examining it in the cold light of reality and then making a value decision about what mattered, what was real and what was my foolish imagining. I naively thought that I would be able to just go on with my daily life and maybe fix a few things as they came up. Kind of like holding a starship together with spit and duct tape. Man. Was. I. Wrong.
I’ve spent so long living in other peoples heads trying to figure out how they got what they wanted that I forgot a simple truth about life. My heroes journey has very little to do with the heroes journey of the people I know. Again, I know this sounds obvious, but I’m a bit slow.
I haven’t spent nearly enough time getting into my own head to figure out what I want and who I am. It’s really no wonder that I am having trouble writing. I keep comparing myself to the published authors I know. I wonder why my stories aren’t as good as theirs. I wonder why I feel a pang of jealousy and anger each time I hear a new story by someone I know or even worse, someone I’ve never heard of who managed to sell their first piece on their first try. So, since I don’t know myself, I can’t access the part that tells stories that resonate within me. They come out of desire. They come out of a sheer stubbornness. They come out of a touch of talent, but they DON’T come out of my heart.
I have rejection letters, just like every other writer. I recognize that there is a rite of passage that I apparently haven’t paid enough dues for. That part only mildly annoys me. I know that the price of entry is high.
Social media has become a crutch that I have to scale back on or eliminate entirely. It’s too easy to sit and commiserate with others like me who haven’t published anything. Wallowing in shit is easy, even if it does stink. But there has to be an end point.
I’ve reached mine.
A person who has been a good friend for almost 11 years received an award from the NAACP and instead of feeling elated and enthusiastic, I got a major attack of jealousy. It was their night to shine and though I did feel happiness that their efforts had been rewarded, all I could think about was how much further I had to go.
Time to stop with the Bull. My career. My choice to succeed or fail.
I know what it takes to write a novel. I know what it takes to write a short story. It’s not impossible to do, even for someone who has a history of starting and stopping like I do. So my pledge to myself is the following seven steps:
1. I will ignore social media for the next 90 days until I have finished the rough draft of Hunter.
2. I will stay away from fan sites or author official sites or any other web presence that will tend to make me doubt myself.
3. I will only listen to the older radio shows on my iPod – there is no direct competition from The Shadow, or Gunsmoke or Suspense. I can listen to these and just enjoy the story.
4. I will write a minimum of 500 words per day even if it’s the same word over and over again.
5. I will work towards shutting down the goddamn editor so that the writer can do his thing without being.
6. I will remake the connection with my own mind. I will forge a new link to my heart so that I can concentrate on my own stories.
7. I will give myself a damned break about whether or not I am any good at creating stories.
I’ve seen enough bad ones to know that I can do better.
90 days. Not a life time. Just enough time to write a rough draft and then give myself two or three weeks before starting a new project. Enough time for a new change to become a permanent habit. Enough time to turn things around for good.
Wow.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Limbaugh is the RNC? Really??
I’m trying to work out a small problem in my head that maybe you can help me with.
I am looking for the point at which Rush Limbaugh allowed his ego to grow so large that he felt he could eclipse the will of the President and the country at large.
I was apparently asleep at the point which he felt that his opinion would sway policy intended to get OUR country back on track. Is it the 20 million listeners? Is that the drive behind his destructive words? Well, who the hell cares? I don’t see that he was ever elected to public office. I don’t see where he ever helped balance a state budget. I also don’t see where he led anyone anywhere except down the garden path of hatred and bigotry.
He’s never held office. He’s never lead a major company. He’s never even picked up a single piece of litter on the side of the road that I know of. Divorced three times, failed out of college, controversy at every step. And this is the guy that people listen to?
So why the hell is what he says so important? For that matter, why is anyone who’s never brought a damned thing to the table except complaints worth listening to?
Every day in this country, good, honest citizens try to make a difference in the lives of others around them. They go to jobs as firemen, police officers, community leaders, pastors, activists, sanitation workers and a thousand other things. They DO something every day that makes a physical difference to the world around them. It isn’t just hot air being spewed out of both sides of their neck. These people sacrifice daily to make the country work.
To be honest, I wouldn’t want the president’s job. It’s largely thankless and despite the power and authority, it ages people at an accelerated rate. I think that Barack Obama is one hell of a brave man for even wanting to do it. Brave and maybe just a bit insane.
The current climate is one of the worst in 70 years. Certainly the worst in my short lifetime. The house is falling over and he’s out there with his bare hands and brain trying to hold the damned thing up and the only thing idiots like Limbaugh can do is complain? Jeez.
It’s no wonder that the Republican Party is in the shape it’s in. When they have people like Limbaugh as their water boys, the team goes thirsty. He has gained such a reputation that when the RNC members go against what he says; they have to apologize to HIM? WTF?
The following citation is from Wikipedia and CBS News –
"Leader of Republican Party"
On March 1, 2009 CBS's "Face the Nation" asked chief-of-Staff, Rahm Emanuel: Who represented the Republican Party? He answered, it was Limbaugh. "He called for President Obama to fail. That’s his view. And that’s what he has enunciated. And whenever a Republican criticize him, they have to run back and apologize to him, and say they were misunderstood. He is the voice and the intellectual force and energy behind the Republican Party."
On March 2, 2009, Limbaugh responded to Rahm Emanuel:
I'm going further and telling you today it's not that I want Obama to fail; that's not it anymore. The President is presiding over economic failure. The President is watching it, doing nothing about it. He's watching unemployment grow; he's watching the stock market plummet; he is watching people sign up for unemployment. The President of the United States is doing nothing to stop the downward spiral of this economy. He has no economic recovery plan. The truth is, the President of the United States and Rahm Emanuel, who, remember, said, 'Crisis is too great a thing to waste'. What does that mean? They want you suffering, they want you miserable, they want it worse, they want you rejecting conservatism. They want you rejecting capitalism. They want you turning to them in fear and desperation and angst for an immediate fix to the problem. They want you thinking you have no ability to fix your own problems. They think you have and they want you to have no ability to take care of yourself. So as the stock market now approaches minus 2,800 since Obama was elected, the statement today is to speed up the economic recovery, we're going to focus on health care. Ask yourself how that is going to get you your next job."
On March 3, 2009, The Wall Street Journal opined that Mr. Emanuel is more preoccupied with malevolent partisan conflict than beneficial "economic leadership".
In remarks aired by CNN on March 1, 2009, Republican Party Chairman Michael Steele said in jest, that he, rather than Limbaugh, is "the de facto leader of the Republican Party".
On his March 2, 2009 radio show, Limbaugh responded that Steele is not fit to lead the Republican Party.
Steele later telephoned Limbaugh and apologized,
"I have enormous respect for Rush Limbaugh. I was maybe a little bit inarticulate. There was no attempt on my part to diminish his voice or his leadership. I went back at that tape and I realized words that I said weren’t what I was thinking. It was one of those things where I thinking I was saying one thing, and it came out differently. What I was trying to say was a lot of people want to make Rush the scapegoat, the bogeyman, and he’s not." Steele later issued another statement to say that Limbaugh "is a national conservative leader, and in no way do I want to diminish his voice. I truly apologize."
So where was all this yelling and screaming when Bush was in office? Where was this huge sense of right and wrong when billions were being sent to banks so they could buy jet planes? Does anyone else see a problem with all this?
The republicans did their best, the people wanted something else. To Rush and the others I say – Let it fucking go and help build the country back up.
I am looking for the point at which Rush Limbaugh allowed his ego to grow so large that he felt he could eclipse the will of the President and the country at large.
I was apparently asleep at the point which he felt that his opinion would sway policy intended to get OUR country back on track. Is it the 20 million listeners? Is that the drive behind his destructive words? Well, who the hell cares? I don’t see that he was ever elected to public office. I don’t see where he ever helped balance a state budget. I also don’t see where he led anyone anywhere except down the garden path of hatred and bigotry.
He’s never held office. He’s never lead a major company. He’s never even picked up a single piece of litter on the side of the road that I know of. Divorced three times, failed out of college, controversy at every step. And this is the guy that people listen to?
So why the hell is what he says so important? For that matter, why is anyone who’s never brought a damned thing to the table except complaints worth listening to?
Every day in this country, good, honest citizens try to make a difference in the lives of others around them. They go to jobs as firemen, police officers, community leaders, pastors, activists, sanitation workers and a thousand other things. They DO something every day that makes a physical difference to the world around them. It isn’t just hot air being spewed out of both sides of their neck. These people sacrifice daily to make the country work.
To be honest, I wouldn’t want the president’s job. It’s largely thankless and despite the power and authority, it ages people at an accelerated rate. I think that Barack Obama is one hell of a brave man for even wanting to do it. Brave and maybe just a bit insane.
The current climate is one of the worst in 70 years. Certainly the worst in my short lifetime. The house is falling over and he’s out there with his bare hands and brain trying to hold the damned thing up and the only thing idiots like Limbaugh can do is complain? Jeez.
It’s no wonder that the Republican Party is in the shape it’s in. When they have people like Limbaugh as their water boys, the team goes thirsty. He has gained such a reputation that when the RNC members go against what he says; they have to apologize to HIM? WTF?
The following citation is from Wikipedia and CBS News –
"Leader of Republican Party"
On March 1, 2009 CBS's "Face the Nation" asked chief-of-Staff, Rahm Emanuel: Who represented the Republican Party? He answered, it was Limbaugh. "He called for President Obama to fail. That’s his view. And that’s what he has enunciated. And whenever a Republican criticize him, they have to run back and apologize to him, and say they were misunderstood. He is the voice and the intellectual force and energy behind the Republican Party."
On March 2, 2009, Limbaugh responded to Rahm Emanuel:
I'm going further and telling you today it's not that I want Obama to fail; that's not it anymore. The President is presiding over economic failure. The President is watching it, doing nothing about it. He's watching unemployment grow; he's watching the stock market plummet; he is watching people sign up for unemployment. The President of the United States is doing nothing to stop the downward spiral of this economy. He has no economic recovery plan. The truth is, the President of the United States and Rahm Emanuel, who, remember, said, 'Crisis is too great a thing to waste'. What does that mean? They want you suffering, they want you miserable, they want it worse, they want you rejecting conservatism. They want you rejecting capitalism. They want you turning to them in fear and desperation and angst for an immediate fix to the problem. They want you thinking you have no ability to fix your own problems. They think you have and they want you to have no ability to take care of yourself. So as the stock market now approaches minus 2,800 since Obama was elected, the statement today is to speed up the economic recovery, we're going to focus on health care. Ask yourself how that is going to get you your next job."
On March 3, 2009, The Wall Street Journal opined that Mr. Emanuel is more preoccupied with malevolent partisan conflict than beneficial "economic leadership".
In remarks aired by CNN on March 1, 2009, Republican Party Chairman Michael Steele said in jest, that he, rather than Limbaugh, is "the de facto leader of the Republican Party".
On his March 2, 2009 radio show, Limbaugh responded that Steele is not fit to lead the Republican Party.
Steele later telephoned Limbaugh and apologized,
"I have enormous respect for Rush Limbaugh. I was maybe a little bit inarticulate. There was no attempt on my part to diminish his voice or his leadership. I went back at that tape and I realized words that I said weren’t what I was thinking. It was one of those things where I thinking I was saying one thing, and it came out differently. What I was trying to say was a lot of people want to make Rush the scapegoat, the bogeyman, and he’s not." Steele later issued another statement to say that Limbaugh "is a national conservative leader, and in no way do I want to diminish his voice. I truly apologize."
So where was all this yelling and screaming when Bush was in office? Where was this huge sense of right and wrong when billions were being sent to banks so they could buy jet planes? Does anyone else see a problem with all this?
The republicans did their best, the people wanted something else. To Rush and the others I say – Let it fucking go and help build the country back up.
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