I'm not running.
Mental heath is an issue we usually shy away from as a society, or even just as individuals. I try to be honest and upfront about my issues, especially with close friends or women I start dating, seeing as how I'll be living with these issues till the day I finally die, anyone with the possiblity of really getting know me should know what they're getting into. This post is going to be just as honest, so that anyone out there that needs someone to talk to, but is unsure of how to go about it, or even those that just can relate and feel some solace in that can have just that.
I have chronic depression and crippling anxiety, in addition to insomnia, it's why often times I don't get out of bed though I've been up for hours, or even attempt to get ready for the day on days I'm home. I stay awake all night and read, something I would much rather be doing when I'm out with people, in bars, at shows, or even just dinner at a friend's house. The insomnia has been there since I was a kid, but the anxiety was something that grew with me from elementary, from constantly moving schools. The depression came in the end of Junior High, early part of High School, when most teens are moody and it seems like I'm just being extra touchy about things.
It was in high school I first started cutting my arms, just to feel something, to cause that chemical reaction in the brain that releases endorphins to relieve the pain, and crying so hard blood vessels around my eyes would pop, causing a condition called petechiae around my eyes. I was fairly good at hiding it, but would later get caught by my parents, sometime around my Sophomore Year, their solution was to take me to a Psychiatrist, though anyone that has depression can understand how helpful this was, being forced to go to a doctor to talk about things. What I'm getting at is it doesn't help until you are ready to ask for help, really ready to open up, which for me didn't come till my early 20's, but more on that later. My dad was angry, frustrated, my mom was worried, but both were really hurt by my actions. As time would go on, the cuts would go to from my forearms, to my arms in general, to my chest, and eventually my face. After high school, it moved to burning myself, but before that got too bad, I met someone that became really important to me, Jordan. I had just turned 19, she was just about to celebrate her 18th birthday, we started dating a few days before her birthday.
I was still seeing my doctor at this point, though I had no interest in help or cognitive reconditioning exercises, I just went to appease my parents and give Jordan a little hope I wouldn't always be like this. The look she got when she saw my scars, and even some fresh cuts, it really broke her heart a little, I think, it reminded me of the way my parents looked at me whenever they happened to see. I tried to be good while I dated her, because as hard as it was to wake up each day and face things, things that were intangible and in my head, those voices, it was harder to bear that look. She was someone that had really seen the good days, as well as the bad, had to go through a lot with me at such a young age. I smiled a lot those days, I was really silly, but like most people with Chronic Depression and Anxiety, you learn to put on a good show, you learn to smile the best when you're feeling the worst, as to not worry others. We went through a lot together, but we split and it really broke my heart. I remember sitting on the cold concrete floor of the bathroom at my parent's house, it had been a couple years since I'd cut or hurt myself, and just sat on the floor crying, knife in my hand, trying so hard not to do anything. I ended up destroying a wall, just hit it till my hands were bloody and the drywall was long beyond repairing, nails and wall studs having torn my hands up.
I remember going upstairs, eyes red, hands fresh with cuts and bruises, my grandma and mother, sitting upstairs in the living room, they looked so hurt for me, and it was then at 21 I decided I needed to get help and see a doctor again.
It's a constant battle, an uphill struggle not letting the depression and anxiety take control, but it's what's helped me be strong, for myself and others. I haven't seen a doctor in years, but I take things a day at a time, remind myself that I have people that care about me, and even a few that know me well enough they see when my anxiety starts to grow and helps me come back down. In fact, it's because of these two major factors in my life I've pushed myself as hard as I have. You'd never guess how many people tell me after meeting me a few times or even after getting to know me that they'd never guess I had depression or anxiety, or that I'm shy. Instead of letting these conditions limit my quality of life, I use them, as well as a great support system, as motivation to grow as a person, to be social, to not let a crowd scare me, even if the crowd is only 3 other people. I have become more outgoing as a photographer, artist, even a stripper for a time, hell, I've pushed myself to do karaoke on a consistent basis and even run the show a few times, all to grow. I've met a lot of really great people, ones that were like me, just dealing with their conditions and choosing to find their own ways of getting better and building a good support system for when things get tough.
That's the thing about it though, things do get tough, there are breakdowns, I had one in Vegas with Lindsay and Molly trying to comfort me, not really sure what to do.. It was a nice enough night but the anxiety started getting really bad, I started getting in my head and it was hard to breath. At the end of the night I crawled into bed, sobbing, curled up in all with my hands around my head, I can't remember the last time before that I'd gotten so bad. I went a while before getting that bad again, but it happened a couple weeks ago, breathing fast, drenched in tears and sweat, being consoled by someone I just started seeing, feeling so ashamed of being so broken, feeling like someone else's problem again.. It honestly still gets to me, I feel terrible when I get that bad, I question my value and why anyone would want me around... but at the end of the day, I have people I can lean on, even ones just getting to know me, even though I feel like such a burden, kept around due to pity about such a cliche, tragic life.
I originally started this post with, I'm not running, because there was a recent night, when I wanted to do just that. I had emptied my backpacking backpack out, started restocking it with items I needed, because the anxiety was too high, the depression telling me I didn't matter to anyone here, that I wasn't needed, only a bother, wasting space and unwanted. It stemmed from a night doing security for a bar, one of my side jobs, and seeing these young adults, these kids, fresh in their life yet at the bar dropping stupid amounts of money, flaunting it, just making me feel frustrated. Here I was, 28 years old, unable to finish High School on time, unable to finish a semester of college, not even legally able to drive a car, living in the storage room in his dad's basement, a house just full of ghost and memories that never go away, just trying to find a way to make enough to eat more than twice a week. I was also frustrated because I felt I could do so much more with myself than standing there, surrounded by people just oblivious to anything other than themselves. I was smart, I had great jobs in the past, I might not have gone to school, but I've worked for big companies, high caliber work Designing, 3D Modeling, Building, Repairing, being an Engineer, all without school. I was, I did these things, but here I was, standing in a bar, doing security, a job not well known for being intellectually stimulating, just requiring a warm body and enough sense to watch the room and read a situation. Getting home that night, I was in a panic, I felt like a warm body in every sense, when it came to work, when it came to dating, I was just someone there helping others get what they wanted. I wanted to run away, to pack my backpack and leave it all behind, with nothing, no money, winter soon approaching, preparing to leave worse off than I was last year when I left, and failed, to go backpacking.
Ultimately, I stayed, I've been working hard to keep the depression and anxiety down, to remind myself that work can be hard to find, but at least I'm doing something about it, I'm working whatever jobs I can in the meantime. I remind myself that times have been hard, and I've been real low before, but I've also been strong, and I could get through it. Being strong is important, but knowing yourself is more important, knowing when things start slipping and you start spiraling, knowing how to ask for help, to seek it actively, and knowing you do have people that genuinely care about you. When I'm starting to lose my grip on things, I play with my ring, I fiddle with my phone, just opening and closing the same apps over and over, I physically withdraw from all physical contact, hands balled up, pulling long sleeves down, I start to stammer and avoid eye contact, and lately I seem to grind my nails against each other. Honestly, I'm still learning, it's a never-ending process, sometimes I lean too hard on people I'm close to, someone I'm dating, sometimes the voices win and I feel myself withdraw, sometimes I do something stupid like destroying my hands.. It's tough, but anything in life worth having, is worth working for, even if it's just peace of mind for a moment, or a real good smile. I'm worth having happiness, love, success even, but I'm the one that has to put in the work for it, and sometimes I need to remind myself that I'm not running, which has a dual meaning for me.
Anyway, I hope this isn't too different of a post, but I felt the need to show that everyone has good days, everyone has bad days, and mental heath is not something to define a person, it's not something that needs to be hidden either. Just because someone smiles the sweetest, doesn't mean they aren't feeling their world crashing down behind their mask. We need more understanding in this world. In every one of these pictures, whether smile or not, there's a person battling their own demons, holding it together as best they can. Putting this post together has been a real struggle for me, talking about things, going through so many old pictures, seeing so many people that are gone from my life... It also shows me the ones that have stuck around, the friends I've made that have lasted only a summer, a reminder that not all I do is right, but the stories to be told and the pictures to look back on, what a story they can tell. The hardest part some times is just getting past the ghosts and look at the day for the new opporunity it is.
PS, I landed an amazing job, I'm a foreman, the first American Foreman for a company based out of Switzerland that builds trains. I have my own team, albeit only 2 other employees, but it's a start, I do well here and when the new plant is finished, I will have a bigger team, and I'll even go to Switzerland. I might not be traveling like I wanted, but I'm getting my life somewhere I can travel still, and have the money to eat it all up.
“Time goes by,
And we watch our lives,
As they’re sadly slipping away.
Alone, we cry.
So follow that tune quickly
Or you’ll lose the melody you never heard
When you were young you didn’t care.
It’s the one that stole your fathers pride,
That mighty mighty dollar sign.
These are the things that matter now,
So sing along and be”