Apologies post number 1.

This will probably be one of many as life has taken a turn for the busy.

I have started a new retail job (yay?) and it is an overnight position. It makes it fun when you come home to everyone sleeping in the morning. This has taken more of my time than I care to admit. 

The new job has also taken a toll on the body. I am in more pain than usual and it is harder to keep up with my writing. I have to fight to just get up and walk around some days. I can force myself at work to keep going and I have always had a tremendous work ethic so I am having to learn to pace myself more and more. It is hard because I fight my brain on being lazy.

I have been given a newer perspective on life during this. I have been forced to stop and think before I speak. While my writing has always been a better outlet for composing my thoughts (I highly recommend that if you want to focus your mind better, writing things down clears the head), I am now forced to think before speaking. This is partly in due to the medication and symptom (mind fog) that makes it incredibly hard to get words out. 

I want to thank my dear wife and wonderful kids on being patient with me and repeating themselves several times over so I can acknowledge what they are saying.

I hope to continue to write as an encouragement to you, dear reader. I hope that you find strength and hope in what I write. I love you all. 

#hugapony my friends.

Riding that long train.

Life has been a mixed bag for me here lately. I’ve been doing my best to find more positive things to think about when I’m so negative. I have not forgotten a dose of my medication in a while so my body’s been responding well. There’s only one big fear for me at the moment.

I’m moving in 30 days.

I’ve been beyond grateful for the past 8 months that people have been giving us a place to stay but now that is coming to a close. I personally can’t wait to have my own space and to be able to have a place that I can call my own not to worry or stress about anything that I do. All places I’ve stayed I have not made me feel unwelcome by any means, there’s always a certain level of stress of being able to be yourself and not be afraid to get in trouble for it.

It’s also going to be nice to have have all my stuff out of storage.

My wife went and bought me a couple books that I already own because she could not find them at the library. It’s tapped into a part of me that I’d forgotten. Just about forgotten how much I love to read. My nightstand in my old apartment was filled with 12 to 15 books at a time of all sorts of subjects. There is fantasy, sci-fi, historical books, devotions, comics, my Bible. All these half hazardly laid on my nightstand where I could pick them up at a moment’s notice and be able to dive into it Adventure or to find out more information about historical event that just fascinates me.

It was my escape at times.

I could stop worrying about me and worry about a fictional character. I knew most of the endings as I had read and reread most of the books in my library. And all these books have been locked away in storage. Leaving a hole in me.

One that I had not known I had been missing.

I have lost myself in those three books (The Dresden Files for those interested) for the last 2 days. I have not been that content with having something besides worry and stress occupy my mind.

I have a passion for reading.

And writing I suppose as I continue to write to you.

#hugapony my friends

#stuffedtherapy

On the mark.

I come across stories and pieces that hit close to home or near the mark when it comes to depression and anxiety. The past few days I have been taking my meds with clockwork timing as my mind has not had a moments rest tormenting me.

The little man in my head has been clawing at the walls.

I came across a story on Facebook (something I believe is a boon and a curse) and wow it hit the mark.

Hard.

I almost felt I was reading a story about my self. The words and feelings used were on point.

And they were sharp enough to cut me.

The article which is commented here, http://themighty.com/2016/03/when-youre-suicidal-but-you-dont-want-to-die/ , tells about living with those suicical thoughts and what you face day in and out. I applaud the bravery it took to write this. Telling people your thoughts like this makes people worry about you to the point of locking you up.¬†But even if we don’t say what we are thinking, does that make it go away, or does it make those around us feel better about themselves?

Is it better to ignore the thoughts so they don’t mess up someone else’s day?

I feel that being open and honest about these things does several great things. First, you are being honest with yourself, a great way to admit there are issues to deal with. Second, it lets other people know what is going on. Now that has a side effect of being either an attention grabber or someone to stress and worry about. However, I feel that if I am publicly talking about it, its me admitting my flaws and faults. I am saying, “Yes there is a problem and I am recognizing it”. Third, it brings out support and help from others. Building that support group is critical in saving yourself from anything that someone might do to themselves. Again, this isn’t the “Lock them in a rubber room.” but a “I understand and this helped me” type of support. Last, it brings out your humanity. The one thing that is lacking in most depression/anxiety people is just that, they do not look at themselves as people. They see themselves as burdens, and too broken to fix. By saying or writing (better because it is a solid evidence that can be brought up later) that you are feeling this way is a way to humanize yourself to the point to save yourself. It is a gateway to seeing that you are a real person and not just a shadow.

http://themighty.com/2016/03/when-youre-suicidal-but-you-dont-want-to-die/

Well written, well said.

#hugaplushie

The big D & A

Living with depression and anxiety is hard. I hear a lot of people who tell me, and others, just get over it. If it were that simple, I would have been cured a long time ago. I know that some people think they are helping by trying to motivate or drive those suffering but I want to take a moment to describe some ways a person acts the way they do and what they are thinking while suffering.

Randomly during the day you have the crushing weight of ALL your failures hit you all at once. It’s like having a personal highlight reel of worst moments set up in a compilation video playing through your brain over and over. Most depressed people are very intelligent and have a good memory. Because of this, your flaws and failures are branded and seared into your brain for you to remember. I still remember the time when I was 7 and I burnt my thumb on a hot iron right after my mother told me not to touch it. I was so excited to be going to a friends house down the street right after that happened and I was so scared that I would be in trouble I hid my pain and went to my friends house. Soon upon arrival my friends mother noticed my tears of pain and looked at my thumb. She was surprised that my mother would send me down there without doing something about my thumb. She called my mother asking about and surprised my mother with something my mother didn’t know anything about. It was no surprised that I was promptly sent home to both be healed and to be in trouble.

I tell this story because I am still embarrassed about trying to hid it. I still have it in the back of mind of what I did wrong. I still remember the pain of my thumb on fire. It pops in my head about every other week to remind me of how I have failed. I live with that memory and every other mistake and failure I have done in my life. I wish I could stop those memories from drowning me and some days I do great.

Other days not so much.

And its not just your mistakes.

When something goes wrong with someone else, you react two ways. You question if you messed something up, EVEN IF YOU HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT. You cannot stop yourself from wondering if you could have done something to have helped them or if you could have changed something. The second way you react is you overreact by being overly sorry for what happened, again even if you had nothing to with what happened. You try to comfort and help that person in such a way that you end up looking like a “freak”.

It makes for a hard time trying to deal with other people’s failures while having your own failures play constantly playing in your mind.

It also makes you paranoid. You question everyone’s jokes and teasing. You are observing all the things going on around you and analyzing it. You wonder how much is true and what is a joke. You live in constant fear of what you say and how it could be taken wrong.

And this makes you tired.

You carry the weight of that around with you. The reason it is hard to get out of bed for a depressed person is two-fold. First, you are tired from carrying yours and everyone else’s burdens (even if they didn’t ask for it). Second, you know the only relief is sleep. Sleep because it is when you finally get a break.

It is hard to be depressed. It is hard living with anxiety.

I saw a post on social media that inspired this post and I want to share it now.

FB_IMG_1455223119196

Fear. You live in constant fear.

“What if?”

The next time you see a depressed person or know someone who is depressed, take two seconds and think on these things. I could save a life.

#hugapony my friends.

On writing.

I find myself in the mood to write. I have written a few things tonight, some for work, some for this blog. I find I have to capitalize on the times I am feeling creative. I don’t like missing out on things to write.

Some people have asked where I come up with ideas to write about or how it comes to me. I honestly just write what I think. I have managed to get my typing skills up to almost my thoughts and it has helped a ton.

All those typing exercises worked. Thanks Mom!!!

I have a few irons in the fire, still, and that is a good thing. As long as I have things to write about on the horizon, I feel as if I have a purpose. Cool things are coming.

I want to say thank you to you my dedicated reader, whoever wherever you may be. Know that I think of you when I type these words. Each and every one of you. You guys and gals mean the world to me.

You give me purpose to write.

Thank you.

Hug a pony my friends.

PS If you get the title reference than kudos to you! If not, check out the following.

http://www.amazon.com/On-Writing-Anniversary-Edition-Memoir/dp/1439156816

Short pony post!

So my lovely wife bought me a new plush a while back. It was a flutterbat (taken from an episode where fluttershy is changed to flutterbat) and it is GLORIOUS!

image

Her hair is soft plush and her ears are perfect. It might just be my new favorite plush.

I will say, finding the right plush for you is not an easy one. Because this is a very personal decision to use it as therapy,  I would recommend either feeling the plush or getting a couple until you find the right one.

Hug a pony my friends!

Storms on the horizon.

A storm of despair is brewing for me at work. Hours cut, budgets slashed, everyone in crisis mode. My strength is going to be tested. I will need my family dearly, and my plushies close. I fear that this will be a bad time. I look at this though with some hope as I can see this one coming. The storms I can prepare for are always easier for me. I work hard at improving myself and I am doing better at dealing with the ones that pop up. I have also looked into changing my horizons. Those far off dreams that seem out of reach in my mind, are now not so far. Touching that glimpse of greatness that I can be has been a tremendous encouragement for me.

I spent a good 20 minutes with my Big Shy plush yesterday after work. It still amazes me that it can stem off headaches and calm me down. Some people have told me how strange it is, but my response is still the same. If it works, but looks strange, why would you care. It helps me and that is all that matters.

Hug a pony my friends.