Christmas and fear

As John Lennon would sing:

So this is Christmas

And what have you done

Another year over

And a new one just begun

And so this is Christmas

I hope you have fun

The near and the dear ones

The old and the young

A very merry Christmas

And a happy New Year

Let’s hope it’s a good one

Without any fear

At the household where I partake in the Christmas spirit, it is all good, with most being happy and some having short-term content.  Yes, I said content, which, to me, is being in a state of peaceful happiness.  Although we all realize the overworked and dog-eat-dog rat race we all became part of will soon be back in our faces.

I have a habit (good or bad, depending on how you look at it) of using part of Christmas to look up old friends and find comfort in the fact that the world is OK.  We are all alive and well, which is most important.

This Christmas, I shed a tear.  I learned Garret Zwickey, a 28-year-old, died a few weeks ago.  No family should have to endure that pain, but I find more than one that does every year.  Each year for the past six years, I know of an individual under 30 whom the parents must say goodbye to soon.

As I get older, the words of John Lennon, without any fear, are harder to accept.  My fear increases yearly.  This opens the door to the great debate about fear.  To address this topic, we must enter the realm of planetary evolution on a much bigger scale.  We must view ourselves as powerful beings who wish to evolve to our highest potential rather than as weak people trying to cope with a less-than-optimal situation.

The first thing is fear is part of our biology.  The experience of fear arises from the infamous amygdala in the ancient, reptilian portion of our brains.  But I do not want to debate our biological structure.  I will leave that to the scientists and anthropologists of our time.  I wish, “Is fear essential?”

Fear is in our lives.  Whenever we attempt to stray outside our comfort zone or change our habits and beliefs, fear will hit us like a shockwave and warn us to stay put.  And like the well-trained dog, we soon learn to do so.  We become fearful of our creative ability to evolve and change, and we learn to deem such things dangerous.  Fear teaches us to be extremely wary of our better and higher selves.

How about all of the times you have passionately wanted to make something of your life and fulfill your life’s purpose?  Has fear supported you in doing that?  Has fear said, “Go for it!  You are a creative, empowered, intelligent being.  You can do it!” When was the last time you heard fear say that to you?  Of course, the answer is “Never.”

No, fear probably said something like this to you: “You can’t do that!  What will people think?  Besides, you’re too stupid.  Remember all the other times you failed?  You don’t want to expose what a loser you are, do you?” In other words, according to fear, the consequences will be dire indeed.  And just to make sure that the negative messages really sink in, all of this negative self-talk will be accompanied by miserable physical sensations of anxiety and worry, which are the closely-knit cousins of fear.

Fear is basically an inhibitor.  It is not a friend.  It inhibits you from highly negative experiences, whether they be physical, mental, or emotional.  Fear acts as the antidote to consciousness and evolution.  When was the last time you made a good decision from a fear-based place?  When was the last time you had clarity when acting from a basis of fear?  And at the most basic level, when was the last time you felt beautiful when experiencing fear?  Have you noticed that love is nowhere to be found when feeling fear?

So, let’s dispense with this idea that fear is a necessary friend.  Let’s call it what it is; an outdated, outmoded, primitive part of our biology and consciousness.  It causes us to war with each other like animals.  It causes us to lose control and behave irrationally.  It makes us stupid and ineffective.  Ultimately, it shuts down consciousness, love, and intelligence altogether.  Fear is completely incompatible with our higher selves.

Yet, I fear the loss of a loved one, additional tragic moments on the earth, and so many things.  I need to learn to deal with the fears, but how can I when I keep learning of dear friends saying goodbye too soon.  RIP, Garret and Cammi, Gary, Brent, and Shannon remain strong for each other and cherish the memories.  May I learn to release some fear, as it controls one’s life?

Carry on, my friends, carry on…

Turned 53...

It has been a challenging year without an urge to work out, including running or biking. I have been riding for about half of the past year and find riding a chore rather than an enjoyment. It is a task I complete, like getting to work or home. 

I turned 53 on Saturday, September 19.  I joked that I am self-diagnosed as dyslexic, and I am 35.  Strangely, I am in a time when living is not a struggle like in the earlier years.  I do not fear losing my job and being unable to care for the family.  I do not have the desire to improve either.  Some say this is a typical 50s male issue, while others say it is a problem that caused me to lose interest in what was once so enjoyable. 

Going into my weekend, things were looking good.  This past week, I thought I might start running again—just a little at a time with small goals—just to get out in the open and try to get this self-doubt out of my system. 

This birthday was shaping up to be good.  Many people at work wished me happy birthday on Friday.  The sincerity was refreshing.  My Saturday was good.  During the day, my son and I went to the bike shop, the German festival, and the Apple Store.  Later in the evening, my girlfriend made dinner and a great Carrot Cake, my favorite.

Then, I was up Sunday morning at 6:00 to prepare for a group bike ride.  It was a three-generation 32-mile bike ride.  I was balancing the ride with a variety of interests.  While it was a challenge, and I felt like I only made a few people mad, I could brush it off and try to enjoy my birthday weekend.  Then, as the day went on, I was trying to be nice about a situation, and suddenly, I was being chastised like a two-year-old.  It was a very unpleasant situation. 

The positive feeling I was having from my 53^rd birthday was just crushed.  I instantly had no urge to try running.  It just reduced me to the place I have been for months.  That place where I drudge along and take life as it comes.  I was just struggling with how mean-spirited words can impact my psychological being in such a way.  How could it rip the joy I was starting to feel out of my chest?  While I will not understand it, I do know it was wrong to let it bother me the way it did. 

Then, I recalled some lessons I learned in my collegiate years.  I need to be mentally strong and not sit around feeling sorry about my circumstances or how others have treated me.  Instead, I must take responsibility for my role and understand that life isn’t always easy or fair.  I need to stop others from controlling me, like tonight.  Tonight, I let an inappropriate vengeance on my attempt to be kind give someone else power over me.

I also must quit complaining about things I can’t control, like lost luggage or traffic jams.  Instead, I have focused on what I can control in my life.  I need to understand that I do not always have to please everyone.  I need to say no or speak up when necessary, and if it upsets someone, fine!  I strive to be kind, but I can’t handle other people’s upset if my effort to make them happy is taken with anger.

Either way, I am tired of so many things.  I need to really evaluate my past and present and decide my future.  I hope that my next post has a positive outlook.  I write less as there has been less positive information to share.  Let’s pray for a change.

Carry on, my friends, carry on!

Budget Rent A Car - Use caution

Two weekends ago, I needed to rent a car.  I searched the web for the best price and found that if I pre-paid with Budget Rent-A-Car, I would have a rate about 5 percent below Enterprise, which I usually use.  While the pick-up and drop-off locations were more convenient, I went with Budget.

I arrived at Budget about 30 minutes before the rental schedule and said I could wait until the rental visit.  The worker stated there was no issue, and I left with the car 15 minutes earlier than scheduled.  Again, he offered, and I said I could wait until the planned rental time.

I returned the car 90 minutes early the following day and gave it little thought.  When I looked at my credit card, I had a 70 percent increase in total charges.  I questioned this, and they responded as follows (quoted):

After reviewing our records carefully, we have determined that this happened in your case.  

When your rental circumstances changed and you returned sooner than 24 hours, 

a different rate (that accurately met your new rental parameters) was applied to your contract.  

We are sorry for any miscommunication or inconvenience.

Really, I returned a car early, and there was a 70 percent increase in the rental fee!  That is an idiotic way to run a business.  What would the fee have been if I had returned four hours early?  So, if you ever use Budget Rent-A-Car, please be careful; they find sneaky ways to add fees for doing something like returning a car 90 minutes before it is due.  I would hate to see what happened if I was two minutes late.

Carry on, my friends, Carry on.

What's been happening?

I tried to take a much-needed vacation last week.  So far this year, I have lost 7 vacation days, as I am an idiot and not using them.  I was looking forward to a bit of time off.  Work has calmed a little.   We have filled the open positions, and they are very high-quality individuals.  The female we hired 6 months ago is one of the best I have worked with, and it is a pleasure to have such skilled workers.

The vacation started out well, but it just kept getting worse.  The worst part was early in the trip.  I was within seconds of seeing a bicyclist get killed by an alcohol-impacted driver.  It was in the mountains near Golden, Colorado.  I felt sick as they worked on the innocent bicyclist for at least 15 minutes, and it only looked worse.  Read about it here.  

The axle of the car I was driving fell off within 10 miles of careening down a mountain with significant drop-offs.  If the axle had not held as long as it did, I would undoubtedly be at the bottom of some ravine and, I am sure, dead.

Toward the end of the trip, I had an enriching experience.  My son decided to ride his bicycle up Mount Evens (just south of Idaho Springs, Colorado).  It was a 14-mile ride with just under a mile ascent, ending above 14,000 feet.  I'm still determining how he did it, but seeing him score the goal was nice!

On that part of the trip, I was able to take some snapshots of some critters as well!

For some reason, I am growing more distant from those I care about most and closer to those I do not care for.  It is such an odd experience.  It is easier to hide the intense pain I am experiencing from those I do not know well.

Another downer is I recently found out a perfect friend has stage 4 colon cancer.  He had stomach pains for a while and even had his appendix out recently.  Then, this was discovered.  He is working hard to get the house ready to sell and make sure his wife is going to be OK after he passes.  Just heartbreaking to see such great people stricken with this grief and a short time to live.

Things must improve soon.  On Monday afternoon, I am going in for balloon sinuplasty.  While this is not as extensive as a few years ago, I hope this will help clear some of the issues I have had for years.  I will not need general anesthesia and hope to work the next day! 

I am sick of facial pain, nasal stuffiness, loss of smell, cough/congestion, bad breath, fatigue, and headaches.  The headaches have been worse for the past few weeks!  I rarely had headaches before 2009, but they have been regular since 2009, almost debilitating recently.

So wish me well on Monday afternoon.  May I get home safe and not have too many post-surgical issues.

Carry on, my friends, carry on...

The chair analogy - 2003

I have this chair, and I hate it.  It's ugly, big, and takes up too much space.  Every time I sit back in it, it damages the wall.  I've wasted time, money, and energy looking for and buying the living room corner chairs.  I've bought ones that look good - but don't last; I've had sturdy ones that just don't look good with the style of my living room; I bought them straight off the showroom floor - but they become outdated pretty quick.

What I want is a comfortable chair, and that looks nice.  It doesn't look nice in an attractive sense, as if it belongs.  Something that adds to the decor of my living room.  You know, the kind of chair that when you're having a shitty day, in the back of your mind, you know that the chair will be there when you get home.  A chair that coddles you and intensifies the realization you experience.  You can throw your legs over the arm of it and read a good book or work for hours comfortably.  Yet, it must match so I don't have to dress it up with a throw pillow or anything when company comes over.  It's fine the way it is.  Also, it doesn't need constant maintenance, and there is no need for weekly polish or scotch guard treatments.  But like I said, right now, I have this terrible chair in my living room that I need to get rid of this chair.

But there's a problem: my son likes that old, sentimental chair.  So I can't just take it to the dump.  I will have to store it in the shed so my son can play with it when he wants.  But it's cumbersome and complicated to move, and I still need to move it out of my living room.

Then, the other day, I was at an antique store, not even looking for a chair, and I saw this one that I really liked.  I thought, damn, I'm not even looking for a chair right now; I don't even know where I'd put it.  But I really like this chair.  It has a unique look.  It had a classic frame and was well-made.  I even like the upholstery, and I would like to take it home and see how it looks in my living room.

Then these two guys walk in work suits walk up to me and say, "Sorry sir, I hope you're not lookin' to buy this chair, 'cuz it's not for sale." They go on and tell me, "See the shop owner here?  Well, he's a bit of a perfectionist, and we came here today to pick up this chair and take it to our warehouse so it can be polished and refinished." The guys go on, telling me how funny it is that the shop owner always does this and that usually what the customers like about the furniture are the flaws, you know, that used look, gives it character.  And how often the items get all scratched up on the way back to the store anyway. The guys tell me they're taking that chair today, but if I am interested, I may want to check back when it's all fixed up.

But the store owner has two other stores, so there's no telling where this chair will end up.  I laugh to myself, figures.  The guys then tell me that I look a little tired from shopping, and they have some forms to fill out, so why don't I just sit in that chair and try it out for a few minutes while they finish their paperwork.  That sounds like a good idea, so I will sit in it.  This chair is comfortable; I like it so far.

Then I remembered that it didn't matter because I still had that big, ugly chair in my living room.  Even after I get it out, I still have to repair the damage it's done to the wall behind it and paint where I've patched up the wall.  And well, this chair is here today.  Remember, it's not for sale anyway.

I tell my therapist this, and she says, "How about not having a chair in your living room for now?" I say, "Yeah, I agree; I think I'm just going to get myself some good artwork to hang on the wall for that corner of my living room for now." And art is good.  I really can sit on the floor and enjoy the art.  Life can go on without a chair.  However, there will be a chair that I will grow old in at some time and, with some luck, die smiling in.

If you have not figured it out, it is about relationships.  I was divorced and seeking a relationship.  I opted not to pursue a relationship.  Taking a break, which I did for 14 months, I avoided any situation that could have been a relationship possibility.  It helped, and this is why I now preach the one-year rule.  When you lose something dear to the heart (a spouse, a pet, a friend), take a year to repair the heart before seeking the "replacement."  You will never regret that decision; I guarantee that statement!   

Looking back, this was as insightful as possible about a relationship.   

Carry on, my friends, carry on!

Where is the man I used to be?

The man I once was, when I had no worries, has been gone for decades.  Slowly chipping away at the inner soul.  I'm sorry for being grumpy.  I'm sorry for not being much fun these days.  I'm sorry for not seeing the brighter side.  I'm sorry for rarely laughing.

Sometimes, after working more than 60 hours a week for years on end to make ends meet, to do the best I can, and to try to make sure everyone else is OK, it's hard to see the funny side, and it's hard to see things rationally.

I am not making excuses.  I don't want to make excuses.  But along with my apology, I want you all to know that this sleep-deprived, distracted, forgetful, impatient, and snappy man you now see before you isn't the man I thought I would be or want to be.

I wish I was still that man who smiled just because I could or because there was something inside that made me smile.  I wish I were still the man who did not work myself to death and found something I enjoy.  I wish I could work without the constant fear of consequences for a simple decision.  I wish I were still a man you laughed with like nothing else in the world mattered but my silly joke.  I wish I were still that man who had the confidence to believe in himself and simply accept that everything would work out.  I wish I were still that man with the energy, patience, and creativity to make life fun.  I wish I were still a man who was difficult to find fault with, unlike now when most people continually point out flaws in me!

Maybe, one day, I'll find him again.

But right now, I am lost.  I am lost in a job that pushes me to the limits and makes me feel like I am not doing enough.  Lost in a life that is sleep, work, sleep, work…  I recently looked at I have only had 9 days off this year.  That includes weekends and Holidays.  (There have been 4 holidays and 26 weekends, 52 days so far this year.)  So, of the 78 days, most people are off, I had 9…  I know it is my fault, but I am unsure what else to do!

Please continue to bear with me.  I don't know if I deserve that but just stay with me for a while.  In time, I hope the man we all liked is back.

Carry on, my friends, carry on!

From Eggs to Empty Nest

About six weeks ago, my girlfriend entered the house like a three-year-old who had just opened the best Christmas present ever. She was excited as Robin had built a nest in the waning flower basket on the front porch. Below is the life sequence.

It all started with Eggs on May 23.

May 26, where did the eggshells go?

June 5

June 9, 2015

June 13

RIP Grandma's Marathon 1984-2014 - for me anyway!

I am near job burnout. I have tried and worked 70-hour weeks, but I am ready to throw up my arms and work a 40-45-hour week, and people will just have to wait. These past several months have been a special type of job stress—a state of physical, emotional, or mental exhaustion combined with doubts about my competence and the value of my work. 

Have you become cynical or critical at work? I drag myself to work and have trouble getting started once I arrive. I am becoming irritable or impatient with co-workers, customers, or clients. I have low energy. I need more satisfaction from my achievements. I have terrible sleep habits. I am troubled by unexplained headaches, backaches, or other physical complaints.

I have a total lack of control. I am unable to influence decisions that affect my job, such as your schedule, assignments, or workload. We have a significant lack of the resources you need to do your work. Work takes up so much time and effort that I don't have the energy to spend time with my family and friends.

Yes, I identify so strongly with work that I lack a reasonable balance between my work and personal life, and I need to stop trying to be everything to everyone.

So, the consequences I feel fully are excessive stress, fatigue, insomnia, anxiety, and obesity, which all lead to high stroke potential.  I need to pull my head out of my ass before it kills me!

It is over!  There will be no 31^st consecutive Grandma's Marathon finish.  There are a few reasons for this decision.  

• First, the forecast is severe thunderstorms; at 52 years old, I do not need to spend 6 hours trying to finish a marathon in poor weather.  
• Second, I have had severe ankle pain since last fall and even spent time in physical therapy, which heeled me for a while.
• Lastly, my health.  As I had written on May 29, the Doctor discovered a bleeding ulcer.  While I have tried to gain an advantage and improve my health, I have yet to be successful.  I decided to have a follow-up before the race.   It was not good, and he advised heavily against the effort. 

Long-term fatigue has many causes, but now my hemoglobin is very low.  I still cringe when he uses the word anemia. Low hemoglobin may be a temporary problem remedied by eating more iron-rich foods or taking a multivitamin containing iron.  But in this case, it is more from the internal bleeding I am failing to control.  I blame my job for most of the stress.  I have never experienced job stress at a level like I have in the past six months.  I do not see it getting better.

For months, I have held on to the longest consistent part of my life: Grandma's Marathon. Until a few hours ago, I ignored the Doctor and did it anyway. I want to go wrong, as the thought of not going is depressing. It makes me want to ask, what else is there?  

All streaks need to end, but I feel empty right now.  I feel like my heart is ripped from my chest.  Maybe it is my heart that bleeds, not my stomach.  

Either way, my consecutive finishes at Grandma's Marathon are over.  RIP to the last consistent (30-year) part of my life.

Carry on, my friends, carry on!

Comments from my original blog - I merged the blogs.

Mike W.

A heckuva streak, sit back and reflect on all the good years and a few of the struggle years and take pride. Well done. I missed you this year, hope to see you there next year.  Mike. Monday, June 29, 2015 at 3:47:12 PM CDT

RIP Grandma's Marathon 1984-2014 - for me anyway!

It is over!  There will be no 31^st consecutive Grandma's Marathon finish.  There are a few reasons for this decision.  

• First, the forecast is severe thunderstorms; at 52 years old, I do not need to spend 6 hours trying to finish a marathon in poor weather.  
• Second, I have had severe ankle pain since last fall and even spent time in physical therapy, which heeled me for a while.
• Lastly, my health.  As I had written on May 29, the Doctor discovered a bleeding ulcer.  While I have tried to gain an advantage and improve my health, I have yet to be successful.  I decided to have a follow-up before the race.   It was not good, and he advised heavily against the effort. 

Long-term fatigue has many causes, but now my hemoglobin is very low.  I still cringe when he uses the word anemia. Low hemoglobin may be a temporary problem remedied by eating more iron-rich foods or taking a multivitamin containing iron.  But in this case, it is more from the internal bleeding I am failing to control.  I blame my job for most of the stress.  I have never experienced job stress at a level like I have in the past six months.  I do not see it getting better.

So, for months, I have held on to the longest consistent part of my life, Grandma's Marathon.  Until a few hours ago, I would ignore the Doctor and do it anyway.  I want to go wrong, as the thought of not going is depressing.  Makes me want to ask, what else is there?  

All streaks need to end, but I feel empty right now.  I feel like my heart is ripped from my chest.  Maybe it is my heart that bleeds, not my stomach.  

Either way, my consecutive finishes at Grandma's Marathon are over.  RIP to the last consistent (30-year) part of my life.

Carry on, my friends, carry on!

Burnout

I am near job burnout. I have tried and worked 70-hour weeks, but I am ready to throw up my arms and work a 40-45-hour week, and people will just have to wait. These past several months have been a special type of job stress—a state of physical, emotional, or mental exhaustion combined with doubts about my competence and the value of my work.

I have you become cynical or critical at work.  I drag myself to work and have trouble getting started once you arrive.  I am becoming irritable or impatient with co-workers, customers, or clients.  I have low energy.  I need more satisfaction from my achievements.  I have terrible sleep habits.  I am troubled by unexplained headaches, backaches, or other physical complaints?

I have a total lack of control.  An inability to influence decisions that affect my job — such as your schedule, assignments, or workload.   We have such a significant lack of the resources you need to do your work.  Work takes up so much time and effort that I don't have the energy to spend time with my family and friends.

Yes, I identify so strongly with work that I lack a reasonable balance between my work and personal life, and I need to stop trying to be everything to everyone.

So, the consequences I feel fully are excessive stress, fatigue, insomnia, anxiety, and obesity, which all lead to high stroke potential.  I need to pull my head out of my ass before it kills me!

Carry on, my friends, carry on…

MacGyver?

This evening, my girlfriend was moving her daughter to her new condo.  She rented a U-Haul trailer, and they loaded it without issue.  When I returned from work (late at 8:30 PM), I decided to help her with the last load so she could get home and to bed before it was too late. 

We had great timing, and I was thrilled that at 9:55 PM, we were heading home.  She called me scared about a mile from the condo and 20 miles from the U-Haul return location and home.  She said the hitch fell off the car, and the trailer flailed all over the road.  She managed to stop without hitting another vehicle or her own.  She was frantic and did not know how to solve the problem.  Looking at the situation, I realized the hitch pin was gone. 

So what do you do after 10:00 PM with no stores within 15 miles that would have a hitch pin?  I was guessing only Walmart was possible at that hour.  I went a few blocks away to the Holiday Station store.  Walking around the store, I tried to think of anything to use as a hitchpin.  Then I saw a pair of pliers.  If I took the pliers apart and stuck the narrow end in the pin location, it would create a pin.  Then, it would work using a bungee cord attached to the pivot hole and wrapping it around the hitch to hold it in place.

So, I purchased a $4.29 pair of pliers and put a bungee in the car.  Within minutes, we were on the road and had no issues.  I still have that MacGyver touch!  The funny thing is, when I said this to her daughter, she said, “Who?” How many people know what I mean by a “MacGyver touch”?”

Life goes on, so carry on, my friends, carry on!

Bleeding Ulcer, SH*%!

It started with me feeling a little run down.  I blamed it on my attempt to get back into shape.  I would push myself hard.  I learned I should lounge and gradually get back into shape, not play like I am in the best shape of my life.   But I lose brain cells as I age and seek the health of a younger me.  This scenario has played out routinely for years now.  I feel run down and blame it on all sorts of circumstances. 

Earlier in the week, after dinner, I went to my room to hide.  My stomach pain was as intense as tears were the result.  It was excruciating! 

So I went to the doctor to get some help.  I have recurring extreme stomach pain and indigestion.  I thought it may be from the OTC sleep medicine and the daily need for ibuprofen to sleep and function.  There is extreme tenderness in the belly.  So, that led to additional examination/testing. 

In the end, it shows that the stool has occult blood, which is the blood that cannot be seen with the naked eye but shows up with a chemical test.  Putting the results together, the doctor told me the fatigue and tiredness were due to bleeding.

He explained that the stomach combines food and digestive juices, and digestion begins.  This is accomplished with a protective lining that protects the stomach from digestive enzymes that can eat away at it.  When the lining is damaged, inflammation and pain occur.  The inflammation worsens until the stomach or the duodenum (the first part of the small intestine) bleeds.

I learned red blood cells carry oxygen to all body organs.  When there are too few red cells, symptoms like fatigue, weakness, lack of energy, shortness of breath, and chest discomfort are standard.  Even lightheadedness may occur when I stand up quickly.  I learned it is because my body can't pump oxygen-carrying red blood cells fast enough to the brain.  It is acceptable in a few seconds as I adapt or sit down.

Long-term inflammation caused a small crater, or ulcer, to form.  I had occasional black tarry stools.  A source of bleeding was found through endoscopy.  They cauterize the blood vessels.  Now, I am to avoid Aspirin and ibuprofen.   I was given lansoprazole to decrease acid secretions in the stomach and allow it to heal.   I will see the result now, as I do not feel better today.  One day at a time. 

I know diet plays a vital role in treating a bleeding ulcer.  Nutrients and foods that should be included in a diet are:

• Vitamin A: Apricots, cheese, carrots, cantaloupe, eggs, spinach, mangoes, sweet potato, and milk
• Vitamin C: Mangoes, peas, melons, beans, oranges, cabbage, milk, berries, potatoes, yogurt, lemons, pork, beef, liver, mussels and chicken.
• Vitamin E: Spinach and other leafy greens, Egg yolk, peanuts, mangoes and kiwis.
• Zinc: Dairy products, peas and oranges

My foods to avoid are:

• Pepper
• Chili
• Caffeine
• Fried and oily food
• Chocolate

Let's see if I am intelligent and disciplined enough to conquer this pain.

Carry on, my friends, carry on…

Heart to heart

I had a heart-to-heart talk with an old friend today.  The last time I saw him was shortly after his 17-year-old son committed suicide last summer.  He had worn so much the past year.  I could tell the hurt is something he still deals with each day.  He said it is a painful way to live when he gets up, gets home from work, and goes to bed.

As stated in the previous posts, I have been troubled about those who have taken their own life.  This is heavy on my mind as I met old friends, which happened again last week.  Another increase in the number of people I know who have experienced a loved one ending their own life. 

He was pushing the suicide subject into our conversation.  I think he is still searching for an answer?  He talked much about his son.  One statement he made really confused me.  I spent so much time thinking about that single statement.  It was, "Why is it when you have nothing to live for? You have so much inner strength, but when you have everything to live for, you want to die".  What did he mean?  Will I ever understand?

I did not ask him to explain, but I understood his meaning.  I recall when I was flat broke and needed to provide for my family.  I felt all I did in life was work, work again, care for my child, and sleep between activities.  I never once felt lonely and underappreciated.  My life is totally different, with very few responsibilities outside work and no issues with money.  Yet I feel such a void with a lack of purpose.  If that's what he means, I understand.

On a positive note, my girlfriend, who had to put her beloved dog down in November, has decided to get a new puppy.  A purebred Golden Retriever from Rolling Oaks Goldens.  We went to do a visit today in preparation for picking up the puppy on April 17.     Pictures below:

In addition to seeing the puppies, I learned of a powerful human being, a mother.  She has had her share of twists and turns, yet continues with a positive spirit.  She wrote a book.  It is about a two-fold story of her life, the trials of tragedy, the joys of love and family, the strengthening of faith, and how all of that prepared her for the gift of Amy, her youngest daughter of 6, who has Down syndrome. The story is meant to encourage mothers, family, and friends of special needs people. It has a Christian perspective theme throughout the entire work.   It is called "Chosen For This Gift: My Story of Hope, Survival and Raising a Child with Special Needs." Consider it a book to read.  Very heartfelt, and you will certainly feel her pain and unique way of finding joy, even when giving up seems like the only choice. 

Hopefully, I will get a copy of the book signed by my friend.  In a time of confusion, anything this good should help, even if there are no answers for suicide anywhere.

Carry on, my friends...

Bike ride, another death and children

The weather is getting better.  I did ride my bike to work four days and could have a few more, although the wind was over 20 MPH, and I opted to drive.  The weather next week looks better.

For Christmas, I was given BarMitts for my road bike. I loved them in the morning, as I could ride with fingerless gloves. The hands provided the most incredible warmth on my body (besides the obvious location, the crotch). I only wish they were easy to remove for the ride home when they are not needed.

Been another tough few weeks.  Last week, I left a meeting and was told my co-worker had rushed off as her brother had just died unexpectedly.  Then I discovered my boss's father has cancer and is fighting for his life.  Then, on April 1, I was told that a very good friend's son had died.  I was really disgusted at such a cruel April Fools joke.  Then I found out it was true and it was not an accident.  I will never understand!

Thursday, I was walking at lunch with a 56-year-old friend who I knew had really been in a depressed state of being.  I thought it was just the deaths we experienced the past few months, with several suicides and just as many unexpected accidental deaths.  Between us, we now have personally experienced 16 deaths in the past 15 months, with 7 of those being under the age of 25.  However, after 10 minutes, she told me about her issues with her daughter.  I was surprised; I knew what she had done and would not expect issues.

I knew she needed to talk, so we quit walking and sat on the park bench next to the creek. I did not have an afternoon meeting, so I was prepared for a long lunch break and then working late to make up the time. She proceeded to tell me the issues she was having with her daughter. 

A little background, I have known her daughter for 18 years.  She raised her as a single mom, as the father left them when she was about a year old.  I have seen her sacrifices, working three jobs, and crying during challenging times when her daughter started to stay.  She was able to pull her back, but not without impacting her relationship and health.  She was there for all her daughters' life events.  She made sure her daughter went to college and succeed.  After college, her daughter moved to New Mexico to take a great job.  She would travel to see her daughter 5-6 times a year, and her daughter came home a few times.

I reminded her that she was raised financially on her own as a sole parent, a strong and independent woman. I reminded her that she should be proud of how her difficult few decades of life may have sapped her energy, but she has an independent and successful child. I reminded her that she did this without child support or public assistance.

She is very proud!  What I did not know until this day is that two years ago, her daughter searched for and found her father.  Since that date, her daughter has taken a lot of energy to meet her father and gain a relationship she never had before.  Her father was married and had one stepdaughter.  He was successful and traveled.  He was not worn out like my friend.  Like my friend, he was fun to be with and did not get his life zapped from years of hard work.

Most recently, my friend was planning her normal Easter trip to see her daughter. Her daughter asked her not to come as she was going to Boston to be with her father over the Easter Holiday. She said her daughter sees her less and less, only returns an occasional text message, and answers fewer than half the phone calls. They once spoke at least every three days, and now, it may be a week or more.

She said the last time she visited her daughter, in early February, they were out sightseeing when the deadbeat who ran out on them called. Her daughter excused herself and went on her own way for about 40 minutes to talk with her father. She was mad, and they argued, which only made matters worse.

She started to cry, saying she gave so much energy to raising her daughter, and she was physically and emotionally worn out.  She felt it was unfair for her daughter to brush her aside for something new and fun.  She felt her daughter was selfish and lacked respect and care for all she sacrificed.  I thought she was suicidal at that point and was not sure what to say.

I told her that people are strange and emotions are even more complex.  I reminded her that she no longer has any control and that they are different because people in their 20s want something new and exciting, not old and regular.  I reminded her that kids are no different than other people, often more selfish and less understanding, just as we were at that age.  I suggested she see someone to help sort out what she views as losing a child; only hers is still alive.  That is unlike that of my good friend whose 19-year-old son took his own life on March 31.

I just did not know what else to say, and that is not typical for a strongly opinionated man like me. I am at a loss for words. I did tell her that kids are just free-spirited souls who are now tired like us.  

I told her of how my own son called me about flying to the West Coast to get together for a weekend April 30- May 2) after his birthday.  I told him I would look for options and needed to get away from the 60-hour work weeks.  I told him I was getting worn out!  I found an excellent flight to Portland and tried to text and call for the next two days, but he did not answer.  Then he called when I was heading into a meeting, and we could not talk.  The next day, I got a quick call to say he had other plans.  

I had already arranged the time off and was waiting to purchase the ticket, but something changed. As with her, I felt bad but also knew I had no control. He is much like I was in my 20s: little care for others who could not keep up with my energy, little time for the parents, and very independent. 

However, I do know that we as humans always regret things after someone has passed, but we seem to minimize the opportunity to be with someone when they are right in front of us.  I know a friend whose father committed suicide last year, and he is missed.  But I often wonder how much he was missed before he was gone?

Carry on, my friends, carry on!