The past year of my life has been one of pretty serious turbulence and upheaval.....again. The entire status quo of the previous 6 years evaporated nearly in an instant when my mother passed away early last June. Mom left absolutely everything to me and I found myself financially solvent for the first time since I moved to Kauai. That's not to say that mom's death wasn't difficult for me since she was the largest (but not only) source of abuse during my childhood and I had an extreme amount of conflicting emotions regarding our relationship. The circumstances of my relationship with my mother were extremely volatile and complex, something most anyone outside of abuse survivors wouldn't be able to understand or appreciate. This wasn't the first major death in my immediate for me within the previous 5 years though. I lost my only sibling to suicide 4 years prior to mom's death and also was an extremely complex event for me to deal with.
It is during that summer following Carly's suicide that my best friend started to complicate things for me. I'm not going to name my friend because I think it would be unfair to do so without his explicit permission, which I have no intention of asking for. I'm just going to refer to him as "my friend from Spokane" during this post.
I met my friend from Spokane back in 2001 when we students doing our clinical internships at one of the hospitals in Spokane. It turned out that we both had an interest in mountain biking and skiing/snowboarding and we spent a fair amount of time doing both activities together up until my wife and I's decision to move to Kauai. It should also be known that my friend was a big enough part of my life that he was a member of my wedding entourage. As I've mentioned several times in previous blog posts, my marriage fell apart within weeks after moving to the island and my wife ended up moving back to Spokane while I remained on the island. Though I did my best to keep our separation and eventual divorce as amicable as possible, my now ex-wife had no such intentions and she basically made all of our mutual friends choose sides.......and most everyone sided with her, which is perfectly okay. My friend from Spokane and his wife were pretty much the only friends from that period that stuck with me and they even came to visit me on the island (the only people to do so other than my sister when things fell apart at the end of my stay on Kauai). This is something that I will be eternally grateful for, it was so nice to be around familiar company at the time and I genuinely enjoyed all of the activities we did together during their visit.
My friend from Spokane was there for me when I crash landed back on the mainland and he picked Jack and myself up at the airport in Seattle and drove us back to Spokane. I ended up settling in Missoula shortly thereafter. Both he and his wife are from Missoula and both of their families still live here, which meant I would see the two of them at least every other month and I would occasionally go over to Spokane to visit with them. My first year in Missoula was a pretty dark one for me, I was completely in debt, I didn't have a comfortable living space, and I carried a lot of shame from the divorce and failing to make things work on the island. As a result of all of this, I fell into a pretty deep depression and gained about 20 pounds during that first year. I went back to mountain biking that following spring and went a time or two with my friend. It was at this point that he started making comments about my lifestyle choices and weight issues. These were subtle at first and I'm only aware of all of this in hindsight.
Carly took her life in late May of that spring and that naturally had a huge impact on me. My friend was familiar with my sister's troubles from conversations I had with him about the subject. In fact, I had mentioned some time in the early 2000's that I was pretty sure that Carly was going to succeed in taking her own life within the next 5 to 10 years. Now, though we were good friends and I told him a lot of intimate things in confidence, I wouldn't describe my friend as the most compassionate or emotional individuals that I have ever met.......which is fine, some people are just that way and I accept him for it. However, he had a very difficult time in understanding the complexities of my emotions involving Carly's death and how much I was grieving at the time. At one point in time, in what would become one of the coldest things anyone has ever said to me, he said that he didn't understand my emotions or grief on the subject since I had been saying for years that I thought Carly was going to take her life at some point in time. Though this was indeed a very cold thing to say to anyone in grief, I would never say that it was a statement he made out of malice, it was just a statement from someone who is not emotionally sensitive, has ever suffered a loss, or has never had a life changing negative event occur to them. My friend grew up in a normal home, free from abuse and I don't think he ever suffered any bullying at the hands of classmates. To be honest, I don't think he had any reference for any of the complex experiences I've had growing up and I don't think he was capable of processing the things I experienced on the island, or the fallout from my time there.
It's at this point that I should say that I've known all of these things about my friend, but I've always accepted them because it is who he is. Though I am bitter about things I'm about to say here, I will always defend my friend's character because though he is not very emotional or compassionate, he is a very nice, genuine and intelligent man.
Exactly one month after Carly's death, I went out late one evening for a mountain bike ride with Jack on a trail that I am very familiar with. I was very emotional at that point and I really pushed things on the downhill in an attempt to purge some of the intense feeling I was having. Well, I clipped a rock, went over the handlebars, and broke my right arm along with several ribs because of how aggressively I was riding that night. This meant I spent all of my summer grieving my sister, unable to get out and enjoy the weather, nursing an arm with a new plate in it, and waiting for my ribs to mend.......which meant I put on another 15 or so pounds and I fell even further into a near crippling depression. I finally shed my arm cast about 3 days before my trip to Dave Matthews Band at the gorge with my then girlfriend. That trip proved to be a serious disaster for me and I returned home almost despondent from everything that had transpired over the previous 4 months. My friend and his wife came over to Missoula about 3 weeks later to attend a Michael Franti concert with me. We had a pretty good time at the show but when I was purchasing a concert shirt after the show, he made note of the fact that I had gotten a XXL shirt and mentioned "You are going to do something about that, right?" Needless to say I was extremely embarrassed and more than a little hurt. To make things even worse, I saw the two of them in the parking lot of a grocery store then next day and he inquired if I had gone mountain biking that day. I explained that I had not since I was working a graveyard shift that night and needed to rest up for it that day. He called me a "lazy fuck" on the spot. Stunned beyond words, I bid them goodbye. Needless to say, I didn't speak to him for a couple of months after that incident. He did eventually call and apologize, but combined with his comments about Carly's death, the damage had been done and my opinion of him along with my willingness to talk about any sensitive issues with him changed dramatically. I had forgiven him, but his words continue to hurt and haunt me to this day.
Things with my long distance girlfriend exploded the following year and with it came serious thoughts of harming myself on a regular basis. He did his best to try to support me during this time, especially during my two hospitalizations and subsequent 6 week stay at an intensive outpatient mental health center in Seattle. We did have a couple of rough episodes though. He came to Missoula one weekend insisting that I go up skiing with him and his friend up at the local ski resort. I had completely lost interest in winter sports before moving to the island and didn't want to go at all, especially since I was completely out of shape and severely depressed at the time. He absolutely insisted that I go with them (because of the weight issue again) and it was pretty much a complete disaster for me.
I came home from the program in Seattle in the best frame of mind that I had been in in over 5 years, possibly the best I had ever been in my entire. I went back to mountain biking with an energy and enthusiasm I hadn't seen since I had been in college in Bozeman. He was pleased by this and came over to ride with me numerous times........though he would push absolutely as hard as he could, which is not something I appreciate at all. I ride to have fun, not to be pushed to go harder so I can lose weight. It got to the point that I didn't want to ride at all with him because of the anxiety it caused me and I even cancelled a trip over to Spokane to go riding with him and a friend of his (someone who I've never liked).
It should be noted that my current physical condition causes me a tremendous amount of anxiety and shame. I weighed 100 pounds less than I do today back in 1994 and I was in really good shape all up to and including my time on the island. Since coming home, I have been assaulted with one major event after another and the severity of my underlying mental illness has increased exponentially. I went from kind of having mental illness problems to crossing over into non-functional territory over the last 6 years. I'm fat, there is no sugar coating my physical condition and my friend's visible displeasure with this has been a constant source of anxiety for me. His pressure for me to constantly be mountain biking, in the gym, and/or rigorously hiking with the dogs had driven me to the point of completely abandoning mountain biking over the last two years because I felt I had to go as much as possible or he was going to be angry with me. It even got to the point where I would lie to him as to what my activities were to avoid his displeasure over the year preceding my mother's death. By the time last spring had arrived, I had gotten to the point that I was trying to avoid contact with him altogether because of the anxiety it would give me and the extent I felt I needed to lie to him.
The news of my mother's terminal cancer and 6 to 8 month prognosis once again shattered the very tenuous stability I was able to maintain in life at that point. The last time I saw my friend was in early March, a few days after I had gotten the news about mom. My relationship and feelings regarding my mother were even more complicated that those that I had about my sister. At the time, I didn't want to have anything to do with trying to take care of mom in her dying days (please don't judge, there are very, very painful reasons for this involving how I was treated by her growing up with severe asthma). I'm not even sure why I even bothered to discuss any of this with my friend since I knew he was unable to showing any sort of compassion, understanding or support toward me on this very complicated subject. Worse than that, he made numerous references toward my weight and questioned me on my activity levels and how much I was getting out with the dogs.
At this point I was now becoming very resentful toward him and very afraid of his judgements (perceived or real) of me. I came to my senses over what I was going to do about mom's suffering and decided that I was going to take family medical leave from work to stay with her in Helena until she passed away. During this two month period I didn't hear once from my friend in Spokane, which was a very difficult time for me because of all the issues I was facing. Mom passed away a few days before I was going to take my leave and I didn't bother to call my friend and tell him because I was so afraid of what he would say to me.......because I wasn't doing anything for exercise at all.
I finally got a phone call from him about 4 days after the funeral. I had posted a picture of myself dressed in a tie for the funeral (something that I never wear) on my Instagram account mentioning the funeral and put he 2 and 2 together about what had. That phone call was a little surreal, I hadn't heard from him in months, a LOT had occurred during that time, and I was in a very strange place at the time. Of course he asked about what I had been doing for exercise, which really got under my skin, almost to the point of me telling him to go fuck himself. He told me to make sure to get out and mountain bike with the the dogs and to keep in touch......which was now an extremely remote possibility on my part. The last time I heard from was a week later he texted me asking me how the mountain biking in Helena was going. I told him I was far too busy to do anything of that nature. You know, because I was far too busy going through everything at mom's condo, taking care of the estate, and all the other small things one has to do when a major family member dies and you are the only living heir.
That was almost a year ago now and I'm still very hot under the collar about all of it. I've struggled really hard over the last year and I've pretty much done it all alone. Things finally came completely unglued for me back in January and I had to take a leave of absence from work. I went back too early, nearly lost my job in a very unfortunate and unprecedented incident where there were no clear guidelines or policies about what course of action should be taken in that kind of situation. The lab manager came hunting for my head and showed an impressive amount of zeal while assassination my character. I'm almost completely alone save from a few online interactions via Facebook........and I trust absolutely no one. During all of this time I haven't heard from my friend even once......and it hurts. Worse yet, I'm scared to death he is going to show up out of the blue and be more than happy to express his displeasure with me over being fat.
My subconscious mind tells me that I have no right to feel hurt or angry with him. It tells me that I deserve to be punished and/or abandoned by him because I'm fat and am too lazy to do anything about it. My subconscious mind also tell me that I finally ran off the last of my friends and that I have finally fulfilled my destiny of being completely alone. I could deal with all of this if another part of my mind wasn't so pissed off over being pressured, judged and eventually abandoned by another person who was important to me. I could call him up and express my feelings to him, but that has always proven to be a disastrous idea in the past. I can't seem to move on from it either, I obsess about it nearly every day. The worst by far is that I ran into his brother this week at restaurant, just by chance. I knew this was going to happen eventually, but that doesn't mean I was even remotely ready for it. "Hey Jon, when was the last time you heard from Matt? Did you know he bought a BMW?".......... I've never wanted to run away so much in my life. I spoke the truth though, that I hadn't heard from him since very shortly after my mom had passed away. I also mentioned that he hadn't been very happy with me and my lifestyle choices for quite some time. His brother mentioned that I should just call him. I should call him? I should call HIM? Yes, that sounds like an absolutely STERLING IDEA, how about I do that right now so you can listen to him ask me how much I've been mountain biking with the dogs so I can be less fat than I am now. HOW ABOUT NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! In fact, your brother can GO FUCK HIMSELF.
Here's what I really want to say to my so called friend. Fuck you. Fuck you and your easy fucking life. Fuck you and your lack of understanding and compassion. Fuck you and your "happy" little marriage. Did I ever mention how I feel sorry for your poor wife? Judging from the utter lack of compassion that you've shown me over the last 5 years, I'm guessing you must reserve all of it for her emotional needs. NOT. I've watched you unfairly push her to lose weight over the last 10 years. In fact, I've always wanted to ask her what it's like to be married to a man who has the emotional depth and maturity of the average slime covered rock you find in the mud at the bottom of a fucking swamp. She must be sensationally happy with your marriage. Have you ever even considered her wants or emotional needs? I'm sure you have been more than happy to push her to lose as much weight as possible and make her feel less than attractive and undeserving of your nonexistent love. I can't even begin to imagine what any sort of intimate contact you have with her. Have you ever even made love to her? I'm sure you read a manual on the subject and followed the procedure down to the last letter, minus all of the emotion, tenderness, and connection you are supposed to show to her. Oh yeah, fuck you and all the new and expensive fucking toys you flaunted in my face over the last 6 years. Being completely broke, it's not like I was sensitive about those sort of things. Finally, fuck you for abandoning me, it's not like I need people in my life who accept and understand me for who I am. Up until now, I've always done that for you. I hope some day your fucking life comes crashing down around you......and doesn't let up for a 7 year period. I hope you get an intimate experience for what it's like to get tossed around so badly by life that you don't know which way is up, or what you even stand for anymore. I hope you find yourself in a brand new city, with no money, nowhere to live, a brand new job and nothing other than the shirt on your back, your dog, and your car. I hope you look around for support from people, only to find that it isn't there at all. I hope those people you look to for that support either judge you, betray you, or abandon you at the worst moment possible.I hope you wind up fatter than I am right now and that your own wife will treat you with derision because you are too "lazy" to do anything about it. I hope you get to feel what it's like to wake up each day without any sense of fucking hope whatsoever, knowing that you are always going to be alone, and waiting for that fateful day when you finally muster up the courage to take your own life......and when you've experienced all of that for yourself, I hope you come crawling back to ask for my help and forgiveness. Here's the rub, after I finish telling you how much of an insensitive asshole you've been to me and how much pain you've caused me....... I'll offer you my hand and help you get back up on your feet, because that place is exactly where I live every single day and I know what it's like when no one is there to help you. Ultimately I would do that for you because despite all of the things that have occurred in my life, I've learned what compassion is, how important it is, and how to show it to people.....even the ones who have injured us the most.
Saturday, May 31, 2014
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
This is how my mind works........every day.
I am Shinji Ikari. I am the hedgehog. Forgive what is about to come next, it's very raw, unfiltered and emotional. I have this conversation in my mind. Every day.
Stay away.
Stay away.
Stay away.
Stay away.
I don't trust you.
Stay away.
Stay away.
Stay away.
Stay away.
StayAwayStayAwayStayAwayStayAwayStayAwayStayAwayStayAwayStayAwayStayAway.
Stay. Away.
I don't trust you.
STAY AWAY!
I. Don't. Trust. You.
Any of you.
TRUST NO ONE......they will only hurt you.
You must never trust anyone again.
I DON'T NEED ANYONE IN MY LIFE, THEY ONLY CAUSE ME PAIN!
......and they don't care.
They don't care.
They don't care.
They don't care.
They don't care.
They. Don't. Care.
THEY DON'T CARE!!!!!
Please, leave me alone.
Leave me alone.
Leave me alone.
Leave me alone.
LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!
.............don't let anyone near................don't let anyone near.................don't let anyone near..........
DON'T LET ANYONE NEAR!!!!!
.........they will hurt you.
They will hurt you.
They will hurt you.
They will hurt you.
They will hurt you.
They. Will. Hurt. You.
THEY WILL HURT YOU!!!!!
........they won't accept you.
They won't accept you.
They won't accept you.
They won't accept you.
They won't accept you.
THEY WON'T ACCEPT YOU!!!!!
..........they will abandon you.
They will abandon you.
They will abandon you.
They will abandon you.
They will abandon you.
They. Will. Abandon. You.
THEY WILL ABANDON YOU!!!!!!!
........or they will betray you.
They will betray you.
They will betray you.
They will betray you.
They will betray you.
They. Will. Betray. You.
THEY WILL BETRAY YOU!!!!!!!
Trust. No. One......................................ever.
I will never trust again. I will never trust again. I will never trust again. I will never trust again.
I. Will. Never. Trust. Again.
I WILL NEVER TRUST AGAIN...............ever.
Who can you trust.....................................? No one.
Who can you trust.....................................? No one.
Who can you trust.....................................? No one.
Who can you trust.....................................? NO ONE!
TRUST NO ONE!
TRUST NO ONE!
TRUST NO ONE!
TRUST NO ONE!
If you keep them away, they can't hurt you, betray you, abandon you...........
If you keep them away......
If you keep them away......
If you keep them away......
YOU MUST KEEP THEM AWAY!!!!!
STAY AWAY FROM ME! STAY AWAY FROM ME! STAY AWAY FROM ME!
.......this is my fault.
This is my fault.
This is my fault.
This is my fault.
This is my fault.
This. Is. My. Fault.
THIS IS ALL MY FAULT!!!!!!!!!!!
............it has always been my fault.
It has always been my fault.
It has always been my fault.
It has always been my fault.
It has always been my fault.
It. Has. Always. Been. My. Fault.
IT WILL ALWAYS BE MY FAULT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.
StopItStopItStopItStopItStopItStopItStopItStopItStopItStopItStopItStopItStopIt.
...........you can't stop it..................you never will.
LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I want to be left alone.
Just. Stay. Away.
People only hurt me.
People only hurt me because I'm bad.
People only hurt me because I'm bad and flawed.
People only hurt me because I'm bad, flawed, and I'm less than human.
People only hurt me because I'm bad, flawed, less than human, AND BECAUSE I DESERVE IT!
I deserve it.
I deserve it.
I deserve it.
I deserve it.
I. Deserve. It.
I WILL ALWAYS DESERVE IT!!!!!!!
I must always hide.
I must always hide.
I must always hide.
I must always hide.
I. Must. Always. Hide.
I MUST ALWAYS HIDE!!!!!
ALWAYS!
ALWAYS!
ALWAYS!
ALWAYS!
A!L!W!A!Y!S!
AlwaysAlwaysAlwaysAlwaysAlwaysAlwaysAlwaysAlwaysAlwaysAlwaysAlways
Smile and pretend everything is okay.
Smile and pretend everything is okay.
Smile and pretend everything is okay.
(they won't notice)
Smile and pretend everything is okay.
Smile and pretend everything is okay.
Smile and pretend everything is okay.
(they won't notice)
Always smile and pretend everything is okay.
(they will never notice)
Look at me, I'm okay.
Look at me, I'm okay.
Look at me, I'm okay.
Look at me, I'm okay.
(they are looking at you)
I'm okay.
I'm okay.
I'm okay..........................stay away............................
I'm okay.
I'm okay.
I'm okay..........................stay away............................
I'M OKAY......................STAY AWAY......................
I'M ALWAYS OKAY......................STAY AWAY..................ALWAYS.
(they are still looking)
Distract them.
Distract them.
Distract them.............................stay away.....................
Distract them.
Distract them.............................stay away.....................
(it's not working, they will see the truth)
STAYAWAYSTAYAWAYSTAYAWAYSTAYAWAYSTAYAWAYSTAYAWAYSTAYAWAY
(they can see it, the truth, they can see it)
RUNAWAYRUNAWAYRUNAWAYRUNAWAYRUNAWAYRUNAWAYRUNAWAYRUNAWAY
MUST. RUN. AWAY.
HIDE.
HIDE.
HIDE.
HIDE.
(they are searching for you......and the truth)
HIDE.
HIDE.
HIDE.
HIDE.
DON'TFINDMEDON'TFINDMEDON'TFINDMEDON'TFINDMEDON'TFINDME
Who are you?
I don't know.
Who are you?
I don't know.
Who are you?
I don't know.
Who? Are? You?
I. Don't. Know.
WHO ARE YOU??????????????
I DON'T KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I know what people want me to be.
(you should be that person)
I know what people want me to be.
(you should be that person)
I know what people want me to be.
(you should be that person)
I don't want to be what people want me to be.
(you must be that person)
I don't want to be what people want me to be.
(you must be that person)
I don't want to be what people want me to be.
(you must be that person)
I have to try to be a good person.
(you aren't a good person)
I have to try to be a good person.
(you aren't a good person)
I have to try to be a good person.
(you aren't a good person...............................and you never will be)
Stay away.
Stay away.
Stay away.
Stay away.
I don't trust you.
Stay away.
Stay away.
Stay away.
Stay away.
StayAwayStayAwayStayAwayStayAwayStayAwayStayAwayStayAwayStayAwayStayAway.
Stay. Away.
I don't trust you.
STAY AWAY!
I. Don't. Trust. You.
Any of you.
TRUST NO ONE......they will only hurt you.
You must never trust anyone again.
I DON'T NEED ANYONE IN MY LIFE, THEY ONLY CAUSE ME PAIN!
......and they don't care.
They don't care.
They don't care.
They don't care.
They don't care.
They. Don't. Care.
THEY DON'T CARE!!!!!
Please, leave me alone.
Leave me alone.
Leave me alone.
Leave me alone.
LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!
.............don't let anyone near................don't let anyone near.................don't let anyone near..........
DON'T LET ANYONE NEAR!!!!!
.........they will hurt you.
They will hurt you.
They will hurt you.
They will hurt you.
They will hurt you.
They. Will. Hurt. You.
THEY WILL HURT YOU!!!!!
........they won't accept you.
They won't accept you.
They won't accept you.
They won't accept you.
They won't accept you.
THEY WON'T ACCEPT YOU!!!!!
..........they will abandon you.
They will abandon you.
They will abandon you.
They will abandon you.
They will abandon you.
They. Will. Abandon. You.
THEY WILL ABANDON YOU!!!!!!!
........or they will betray you.
They will betray you.
They will betray you.
They will betray you.
They will betray you.
They. Will. Betray. You.
THEY WILL BETRAY YOU!!!!!!!
Trust. No. One......................................ever.
I will never trust again. I will never trust again. I will never trust again. I will never trust again.
I. Will. Never. Trust. Again.
I WILL NEVER TRUST AGAIN...............ever.
Who can you trust.....................................? No one.
Who can you trust.....................................? No one.
Who can you trust.....................................? No one.
Who can you trust.....................................? NO ONE!
TRUST NO ONE!
TRUST NO ONE!
TRUST NO ONE!
TRUST NO ONE!
If you keep them away, they can't hurt you, betray you, abandon you...........
If you keep them away......
If you keep them away......
If you keep them away......
YOU MUST KEEP THEM AWAY!!!!!
STAY AWAY FROM ME! STAY AWAY FROM ME! STAY AWAY FROM ME!
.......this is my fault.
This is my fault.
This is my fault.
This is my fault.
This is my fault.
This. Is. My. Fault.
THIS IS ALL MY FAULT!!!!!!!!!!!
............it has always been my fault.
It has always been my fault.
It has always been my fault.
It has always been my fault.
It has always been my fault.
It. Has. Always. Been. My. Fault.
IT WILL ALWAYS BE MY FAULT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.
StopItStopItStopItStopItStopItStopItStopItStopItStopItStopItStopItStopItStopIt.
...........you can't stop it..................you never will.
LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I want to be left alone.
Just. Stay. Away.
People only hurt me.
People only hurt me because I'm bad.
People only hurt me because I'm bad and flawed.
People only hurt me because I'm bad, flawed, and I'm less than human.
People only hurt me because I'm bad, flawed, less than human, AND BECAUSE I DESERVE IT!
I deserve it.
I deserve it.
I deserve it.
I deserve it.
I. Deserve. It.
I WILL ALWAYS DESERVE IT!!!!!!!
I must always hide.
I must always hide.
I must always hide.
I must always hide.
I. Must. Always. Hide.
I MUST ALWAYS HIDE!!!!!
ALWAYS!
ALWAYS!
ALWAYS!
ALWAYS!
A!L!W!A!Y!S!
AlwaysAlwaysAlwaysAlwaysAlwaysAlwaysAlwaysAlwaysAlwaysAlwaysAlways
Smile and pretend everything is okay.
Smile and pretend everything is okay.
Smile and pretend everything is okay.
(they won't notice)
Smile and pretend everything is okay.
Smile and pretend everything is okay.
Smile and pretend everything is okay.
(they won't notice)
Always smile and pretend everything is okay.
(they will never notice)
Look at me, I'm okay.
Look at me, I'm okay.
Look at me, I'm okay.
Look at me, I'm okay.
(they are looking at you)
I'm okay.
I'm okay.
I'm okay..........................stay away............................
I'm okay.
I'm okay.
I'm okay..........................stay away............................
I'M OKAY......................STAY AWAY......................
I'M ALWAYS OKAY......................STAY AWAY..................ALWAYS.
(they are still looking)
Distract them.
Distract them.
Distract them.............................stay away.....................
Distract them.
Distract them.............................stay away.....................
(it's not working, they will see the truth)
STAYAWAYSTAYAWAYSTAYAWAYSTAYAWAYSTAYAWAYSTAYAWAYSTAYAWAY
(they can see it, the truth, they can see it)
RUNAWAYRUNAWAYRUNAWAYRUNAWAYRUNAWAYRUNAWAYRUNAWAYRUNAWAY
MUST. RUN. AWAY.
HIDE.
HIDE.
HIDE.
HIDE.
(they are searching for you......and the truth)
HIDE.
HIDE.
HIDE.
HIDE.
DON'TFINDMEDON'TFINDMEDON'TFINDMEDON'TFINDMEDON'TFINDME
Who are you?
I don't know.
Who are you?
I don't know.
Who are you?
I don't know.
Who? Are? You?
I. Don't. Know.
WHO ARE YOU??????????????
I DON'T KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I know what people want me to be.
(you should be that person)
I know what people want me to be.
(you should be that person)
I know what people want me to be.
(you should be that person)
I don't want to be what people want me to be.
(you must be that person)
I don't want to be what people want me to be.
(you must be that person)
I don't want to be what people want me to be.
(you must be that person)
I have to try to be a good person.
(you aren't a good person)
I have to try to be a good person.
(you aren't a good person)
I have to try to be a good person.
(you aren't a good person...............................and you never will be)
Dr. Nelson will see you now?
Every now and then someone will mention that I should or should have gone to med school. I usually laugh maniacally at these sorts of statements. Me, as a doctor? I'm not sure the world would be able to support the smug/arrogant singularity that would be created if I were to ever obtain a medical doctorate.
First off, I already think I'm smarter than everyone (because I am), having a the letters "MD" attached to my name would only make things ten times worse. What about bedside manner? Well, all I could say is that I would be a cross of the worst characteristics of Dr. House from the show "House" and Dr. Cox from "Scrubs". No one wants to be a patient of a smug, asshole doctor who's right all of the time. Worse than that, no one wants to work for a smug, asshole doctor who's right all of the time. I work in the basement of our hospital as a mere clinical laboratory scientist and already I'm afraid to go to any other public places of the hospital for fear of being recognized as "that asshole from the lab". If people were indeed able to put my face to the voice they hear on the phone, I'm sure I would be stabbed, shivved, shanked, perforated numerous times via scalpel, or choked to death with a stethoscope. As a practicing physician, this would be far, far worse and I calculate my odds of being assassinated by the staff I work with would be about 98%.
In all seriousness, the idea of going to medical school has never appealed to me. I enjoy working in laboratory medicine very much and doubt I will ever stray very far from it. To be honest, the only type of doctoral medicine I would be interested in is pathology and I would almost certainly specialize in hematology, infectious disease, or epidemiology. I can specialize in those areas in my current professional career if I wanted to anyway. Though it is very flattering to have people suggest that I should have gone to medical school, it would require a focus, commitment, and drive that I don't think I've ever possessed. Truthfully, what I do in laboratory medicine requires a very in depth knowledge of broad categories of medicine already. In fact, the medical director of our lab has said to me numerous times that she thinks the most intelligent people you can find in a hospital setting are usually laboratorians and I agree with this statement, though not out of arrogance or hubris. My peers and colleagues are bar none some of the most intelligent and dedicated people I have ever met in my life. We perform detailed, sophisticated, and precise laboratory medicine every single day. Without us, physicians would be blind as to how to treat their patients. I am perfectly happy and proud to perform such essential functions behind the scenes, even though no one other than ourselves understands or realizes the enormity of the contributions we make every single day.
Besides, we ALL know just how big of an asshole physician I would be. Maybe if I could find an "Evil" medical school to attend, I might actually think about it. I'm going to keep the danger of a smug/arrogant singularity that would consume the world in the closet.....for now at least.
First off, I already think I'm smarter than everyone (because I am), having a the letters "MD" attached to my name would only make things ten times worse. What about bedside manner? Well, all I could say is that I would be a cross of the worst characteristics of Dr. House from the show "House" and Dr. Cox from "Scrubs". No one wants to be a patient of a smug, asshole doctor who's right all of the time. Worse than that, no one wants to work for a smug, asshole doctor who's right all of the time. I work in the basement of our hospital as a mere clinical laboratory scientist and already I'm afraid to go to any other public places of the hospital for fear of being recognized as "that asshole from the lab". If people were indeed able to put my face to the voice they hear on the phone, I'm sure I would be stabbed, shivved, shanked, perforated numerous times via scalpel, or choked to death with a stethoscope. As a practicing physician, this would be far, far worse and I calculate my odds of being assassinated by the staff I work with would be about 98%.
In all seriousness, the idea of going to medical school has never appealed to me. I enjoy working in laboratory medicine very much and doubt I will ever stray very far from it. To be honest, the only type of doctoral medicine I would be interested in is pathology and I would almost certainly specialize in hematology, infectious disease, or epidemiology. I can specialize in those areas in my current professional career if I wanted to anyway. Though it is very flattering to have people suggest that I should have gone to medical school, it would require a focus, commitment, and drive that I don't think I've ever possessed. Truthfully, what I do in laboratory medicine requires a very in depth knowledge of broad categories of medicine already. In fact, the medical director of our lab has said to me numerous times that she thinks the most intelligent people you can find in a hospital setting are usually laboratorians and I agree with this statement, though not out of arrogance or hubris. My peers and colleagues are bar none some of the most intelligent and dedicated people I have ever met in my life. We perform detailed, sophisticated, and precise laboratory medicine every single day. Without us, physicians would be blind as to how to treat their patients. I am perfectly happy and proud to perform such essential functions behind the scenes, even though no one other than ourselves understands or realizes the enormity of the contributions we make every single day.
Besides, we ALL know just how big of an asshole physician I would be. Maybe if I could find an "Evil" medical school to attend, I might actually think about it. I'm going to keep the danger of a smug/arrogant singularity that would consume the world in the closet.....for now at least.
Monday, May 26, 2014
Carly Ann Nelson 10-03-1975 to 05-26-2009
There are few things that I wish more than to be able to go back in time to May of 2009. Carly, my sister and only sibling, took her own life on this very day five years ago. I wouldn't go back in time to try to stop her because I know she only wanted to end her pain and struggles and to be honest, 25I probably would not be able to affect the outcome. Truth be told, I respect her decision and understand that it took a great deal of courage to do what she did. I would go back just to let her know that her brother loves her and that I would always love her, no matter what happened.
Carly had Borderline Personality Disorder and was an endstage alcoholic by the time she entered her early 30's (most likely due to her personality disorder). At least that is what the current theory is (one I subscribe to). Mental illnesses have an infuriating habit of being nebulous and undefinable so during the 17 years of Carly's struggles, we never really had an asnwer as to what the nature of her disease really was. Carly wasn't born with her disorder (as I wasn't either), but a genetic predisoposition to mental illness and addiction, along with a very troubled upbringing resulted in Carly becoming a very ill and unhappy person. I'm not going to delve into the specifics that made her they way she was because it was a very gradual and long term process......not to mention, I can't remember much of our childhood. I will say this, we both played roles in each other's diseases, albeit small ones, I don't hold this against Carly and I hope she would feel the same way about me.
When Carly was 16 she made her first attempt at suicide via overdose. During emergency attempts to pump Carly's stomach, some contents were aspirated into her lungs and she went into respiratory failure. Carly's situation was dire enough that she was flown to the University of Minnesota hospital in Minneapolis. She eventually made a recovery after a number of months. She would wear the prominent tracheostomy scar from her tracheotomy for the rest of her life unfortunately. During Carly's recovery in the hospital, placing her in a long term pediatric mental health facility was recommended (which I supported). Carly was adamant about returning home to Helena for her senior year of school and was able to convince my parents to let her do so. Now this is not an indictment of any of the decisions that were made regarding Carly's wellbeing, I am merely pointing out that it was clear she was very ill from a mental standpoint early on.
Carly went home for her senior year and began drinking socially at that point. This began a seventeen year long battle with alcohol addiction for her, one that she was never able to beat for more than a few months at a time. My father and mother did their best to help Carly get well and she spent time at numerous rehabilitation programs and high level mental health facilities. Nothing ever seemed to work and Carly fell further and further into despair as time went by.
I was too busy making my way through college, finding my place in the world, and slowly coming to the realization that Carly wasn't the only one who was very mentally ill to really have a whole lot of contact with my sister. I was a much different person back then than I am today. I harbored a great deal of resentment toward Carly regarding our childhood, all the time and resources my parents devoted to her, and her inability to stay sober or out of trouble for more than a few months at a time. In short, I had little compassion for my sister's plight. By the time I had entered my career in the early 2000's it became clear to me that Carly most likely was going to succeed in a suicide attempt in the future at some point and I did my best to make that known to my parents.
I can only imagine what it was like for Carly to struggle all of those years while she watched all of her friends and her brother move on with their adult lives while she remained trapped within the prison of her illness and alcoholism. Shame is a subject that I am extremely well versed in and I feel very sad for how she must have felt. Carly kept trying her hardest to make things work, but the cards were stacked against her by the time the mid 2000's arrived. Her drinking binges became so severe that she had to be hospitlized for detoxification each time and she had more than bout with acute pancreatitis, which became a chronic ailment for her in the last years of her life. Worse yet, the increasing intensity of each incident placed a great deal of strain upon her relationship with my parents and myself.
Carly became more severely depressed, ashamed of herself, alone, and miserable by 2008.....which was not the best of years for me either. I had been in Hawaii for 18 months at that point and the slow, downward spiral I was in began to accelerate rapidly enough to the point I became suicidal myself. It was clear that I needed to move home to the mainland, which was no small task at the time. Carly offered to come visit me during those last few weeks on the island to make sure that I was going to be safe and okay. While she didn't really help much with my moving activities, it was nice to have her there with me, even if we did have a squabble or two. I think this was the first real vacation Carly had been on for many years and I think she genuinely enjoyed herself, which is something that gives me great comfort now.
By the time 2009 arrived, things had been steadily getting worse for Carly and her incidents (meaning her drinking binges, for lack of a better term) became more and more severe. She even went so far as to get married in secret to a man she was in a rehab facility with while no one was looking one day. Dad came out to Montana to try to fix this mess and it was at this point that I told him that I thought we were looking at the end times for Carly. Then, one fateful afternoon, Carly appeared in the ER here at Community Medical Center while I was on shift. I believe her pancreatitis was bothering her so mom brought her here to see if they could do something for her pain. In hindsight, I wonder if Carly came to this hospital, the very hospital she was born in, to say goodbye to me. Sadly, at this point I was more than fed up with her "antics" and was only filled with anger and resentment. Though I was downstairs in the lab when she was in our ER, I did not go up to see her because I knew if I did, I was going to release over 15 years worth of resentment upon her. Though it meant that I didn't get the chance to see her days before she took her own life, I am thankful every day that I didn't go up to see her and unleash my fury upon her. I wouldn't be able to live with myself in the aftermath. Knowing there was nothing they could do to help Carly, she was released from the ER and mom took her home to Helena. Whether unwittingly or by choice, Carly had come full circle in her life with that visit to this hospital. Two days later she took a fatal dose of painkillers, left a note, and fell unconcious in her room at mom's condo. Alone. She died several hours later in a hospital in Great Falls and I got the call sometime around 5:00 that morning.
The next week was a huge blur, though I had predicted her suicide many years prior, I was still rocked to my very core. Preparations for her funeral in Helena were made for the next week and I made the decision to speak at the service. Speaking at her service has easily been one of the most difficult things I have ever done in my life and I still can't talk about it without bursting into tears. I have never been one to prepare speeches when called upon to speak in front of people, I've always just been able to convey what I wanted to without the need for notes. There must have been 200 and 300 people there in attendance and I was being called to the podium far too soon for my liking. I stood there and sobbed for 5 minutes before I could speak anything intelligible. It was so hard, but I had to do it. I had to try to convey what a beautiful person my sister was and despite all of the resentment I had held against her, I loved her very much. Just writing about the event has brought me to tears again.
Carly's tale may only seem to be about misery and sorrow, but that wasn't the essence of who she was. Carly was an extremely intelligent, charming, and witty person. She was always very kind and she loved animals (very much like her brother loves his Dingoes). She was so brilliantly smart and so witty though. She remains the only person in the world who actually grasped the complexity of my sense of humor, mostly because it was very similar to my own. She was such a beautiful person, so many people told how Carly had touched their lives at her memorial service. So much so that it became too overwhelming for me and I had to hide in the recesses of the church until the reception was over and everyone who wasn't going to the grave side service left. She loved music so much, even more so than I do. She read a lot of books and was reading Hunter S. Thompson way before I ever considered doing so. In high school it appeared to everyone that she was destined to go on to great things in adulthood, something that must have weighed heavily upon her heart in the later years of her life.
Carly's suicide five years ago today has become the most influential and transformative event of my entire life. Before her death I was always so cold and clinical all of the time, I wasn't capable of near the compassion that I am now. I've spent a great deal of time trying my best to make sense of it all and gain a greater understanding of who she was. I've seen what it's like to live too long without hope and what that does to a person both on the inside and outside. I try my best to learn as much as I can from her experiences so her death won't be in vain. I understand why she did it, why she took her own life now. Odds are that I will follow in her path some time in the future because I understand that sometimes people just aren't equipped to live in the world and that the brightest lights burn the shortest (not that my light is necessarily very bright). I've see loss from a unique perspective now and it has made me a far more compassionate person. I've spent time at a facility with other people with mental health and substance abuse issues, I understand her far better now that I ever did when she was still alive. It's extremely sad, but it has to count for something. I wouldn't have been able to be there for mom in the final month of her life if it weren't for things that I had learned from Carly's death. I realize that she was the only other person who knew what we went through as children and was maybe the only person who could have helped me make any sense of it. In the back of my mind, I always thought we would be close later in life and that we would both help each other find the answers to what we were looking for. I love and appreciate Carly far more now than I ever did when she was alive and that fills me with such great sorrow. It bothers me so much that she essentially died alone and that she didn't know if her own brother loved her or not. Earlier this month, I got tattoos of our favorite X-Men character on my forearms to represent the two of us. One of the character as a hero (in memory of her) and one of the character after she had succumb to the darkness of her soul (to represent me). I put them on my forearms so I would see them and be reminded daily of her.
So I would go back if I could, not to stop her because I wouldn't want her to suffer any longer in life than she already had, I would go back to tell her how much I love her and how we aren't as different as we always thought we were. I would show her how much I've learned and changed because of her death. Most importantly, I would make sure that she wasn't alone when she passed. No one should die alone and in misery like that. Interestingly, one of the greatest compliments that anyone has ever given was from Carly. When Jack and I crash landed back on the mainland I had very hard time finding a place for him and I to live at here in Missoula, so Jack spent a couple of weeks with mom and Carly in Helena. I came over to Helena one weekend to see him, because I can't stand to be away from him (or Carter, but he wasn't with us then) and really needed some comfort from him at the time. We were rough housing on mom's couch when Carly came down the stairs and said, "You really love your dog." I don't know how long she had been watching us, but I think at that moment she saw the essence of who I am and just how much love I am capable of. It may not seem like a very important thing, but it has come to mean so much to me over the years. It's important to me that she could see just how soft and gentle I can be. Jack bonded with Carly while he spent time with him and mom, sleeping snuggled up against her under the covers like he has with me since he was a puppy. He was there with us at her grave side service as well.
I miss my sister every day and I will miss her every day until the day I die. I will always remember her for the beautiful person she really was. I will always be sad that I wasn't able to show her love while she was alive and for the loss of any possible future we could have had together. I spend a great deal of time trying to learn from her suicide and take meaning from it. I hope it would make her smile in knowing that her suicide helped her brother to change as much as he has and that there will always be a place in his heart dedicated to her. I love you, Carly. I always will and I'm sorry.
Carly had Borderline Personality Disorder and was an endstage alcoholic by the time she entered her early 30's (most likely due to her personality disorder). At least that is what the current theory is (one I subscribe to). Mental illnesses have an infuriating habit of being nebulous and undefinable so during the 17 years of Carly's struggles, we never really had an asnwer as to what the nature of her disease really was. Carly wasn't born with her disorder (as I wasn't either), but a genetic predisoposition to mental illness and addiction, along with a very troubled upbringing resulted in Carly becoming a very ill and unhappy person. I'm not going to delve into the specifics that made her they way she was because it was a very gradual and long term process......not to mention, I can't remember much of our childhood. I will say this, we both played roles in each other's diseases, albeit small ones, I don't hold this against Carly and I hope she would feel the same way about me.
When Carly was 16 she made her first attempt at suicide via overdose. During emergency attempts to pump Carly's stomach, some contents were aspirated into her lungs and she went into respiratory failure. Carly's situation was dire enough that she was flown to the University of Minnesota hospital in Minneapolis. She eventually made a recovery after a number of months. She would wear the prominent tracheostomy scar from her tracheotomy for the rest of her life unfortunately. During Carly's recovery in the hospital, placing her in a long term pediatric mental health facility was recommended (which I supported). Carly was adamant about returning home to Helena for her senior year of school and was able to convince my parents to let her do so. Now this is not an indictment of any of the decisions that were made regarding Carly's wellbeing, I am merely pointing out that it was clear she was very ill from a mental standpoint early on.
Carly went home for her senior year and began drinking socially at that point. This began a seventeen year long battle with alcohol addiction for her, one that she was never able to beat for more than a few months at a time. My father and mother did their best to help Carly get well and she spent time at numerous rehabilitation programs and high level mental health facilities. Nothing ever seemed to work and Carly fell further and further into despair as time went by.
I was too busy making my way through college, finding my place in the world, and slowly coming to the realization that Carly wasn't the only one who was very mentally ill to really have a whole lot of contact with my sister. I was a much different person back then than I am today. I harbored a great deal of resentment toward Carly regarding our childhood, all the time and resources my parents devoted to her, and her inability to stay sober or out of trouble for more than a few months at a time. In short, I had little compassion for my sister's plight. By the time I had entered my career in the early 2000's it became clear to me that Carly most likely was going to succeed in a suicide attempt in the future at some point and I did my best to make that known to my parents.
I can only imagine what it was like for Carly to struggle all of those years while she watched all of her friends and her brother move on with their adult lives while she remained trapped within the prison of her illness and alcoholism. Shame is a subject that I am extremely well versed in and I feel very sad for how she must have felt. Carly kept trying her hardest to make things work, but the cards were stacked against her by the time the mid 2000's arrived. Her drinking binges became so severe that she had to be hospitlized for detoxification each time and she had more than bout with acute pancreatitis, which became a chronic ailment for her in the last years of her life. Worse yet, the increasing intensity of each incident placed a great deal of strain upon her relationship with my parents and myself.
Carly became more severely depressed, ashamed of herself, alone, and miserable by 2008.....which was not the best of years for me either. I had been in Hawaii for 18 months at that point and the slow, downward spiral I was in began to accelerate rapidly enough to the point I became suicidal myself. It was clear that I needed to move home to the mainland, which was no small task at the time. Carly offered to come visit me during those last few weeks on the island to make sure that I was going to be safe and okay. While she didn't really help much with my moving activities, it was nice to have her there with me, even if we did have a squabble or two. I think this was the first real vacation Carly had been on for many years and I think she genuinely enjoyed herself, which is something that gives me great comfort now.
By the time 2009 arrived, things had been steadily getting worse for Carly and her incidents (meaning her drinking binges, for lack of a better term) became more and more severe. She even went so far as to get married in secret to a man she was in a rehab facility with while no one was looking one day. Dad came out to Montana to try to fix this mess and it was at this point that I told him that I thought we were looking at the end times for Carly. Then, one fateful afternoon, Carly appeared in the ER here at Community Medical Center while I was on shift. I believe her pancreatitis was bothering her so mom brought her here to see if they could do something for her pain. In hindsight, I wonder if Carly came to this hospital, the very hospital she was born in, to say goodbye to me. Sadly, at this point I was more than fed up with her "antics" and was only filled with anger and resentment. Though I was downstairs in the lab when she was in our ER, I did not go up to see her because I knew if I did, I was going to release over 15 years worth of resentment upon her. Though it meant that I didn't get the chance to see her days before she took her own life, I am thankful every day that I didn't go up to see her and unleash my fury upon her. I wouldn't be able to live with myself in the aftermath. Knowing there was nothing they could do to help Carly, she was released from the ER and mom took her home to Helena. Whether unwittingly or by choice, Carly had come full circle in her life with that visit to this hospital. Two days later she took a fatal dose of painkillers, left a note, and fell unconcious in her room at mom's condo. Alone. She died several hours later in a hospital in Great Falls and I got the call sometime around 5:00 that morning.
The next week was a huge blur, though I had predicted her suicide many years prior, I was still rocked to my very core. Preparations for her funeral in Helena were made for the next week and I made the decision to speak at the service. Speaking at her service has easily been one of the most difficult things I have ever done in my life and I still can't talk about it without bursting into tears. I have never been one to prepare speeches when called upon to speak in front of people, I've always just been able to convey what I wanted to without the need for notes. There must have been 200 and 300 people there in attendance and I was being called to the podium far too soon for my liking. I stood there and sobbed for 5 minutes before I could speak anything intelligible. It was so hard, but I had to do it. I had to try to convey what a beautiful person my sister was and despite all of the resentment I had held against her, I loved her very much. Just writing about the event has brought me to tears again.
Carly's tale may only seem to be about misery and sorrow, but that wasn't the essence of who she was. Carly was an extremely intelligent, charming, and witty person. She was always very kind and she loved animals (very much like her brother loves his Dingoes). She was so brilliantly smart and so witty though. She remains the only person in the world who actually grasped the complexity of my sense of humor, mostly because it was very similar to my own. She was such a beautiful person, so many people told how Carly had touched their lives at her memorial service. So much so that it became too overwhelming for me and I had to hide in the recesses of the church until the reception was over and everyone who wasn't going to the grave side service left. She loved music so much, even more so than I do. She read a lot of books and was reading Hunter S. Thompson way before I ever considered doing so. In high school it appeared to everyone that she was destined to go on to great things in adulthood, something that must have weighed heavily upon her heart in the later years of her life.
Carly's suicide five years ago today has become the most influential and transformative event of my entire life. Before her death I was always so cold and clinical all of the time, I wasn't capable of near the compassion that I am now. I've spent a great deal of time trying my best to make sense of it all and gain a greater understanding of who she was. I've seen what it's like to live too long without hope and what that does to a person both on the inside and outside. I try my best to learn as much as I can from her experiences so her death won't be in vain. I understand why she did it, why she took her own life now. Odds are that I will follow in her path some time in the future because I understand that sometimes people just aren't equipped to live in the world and that the brightest lights burn the shortest (not that my light is necessarily very bright). I've see loss from a unique perspective now and it has made me a far more compassionate person. I've spent time at a facility with other people with mental health and substance abuse issues, I understand her far better now that I ever did when she was still alive. It's extremely sad, but it has to count for something. I wouldn't have been able to be there for mom in the final month of her life if it weren't for things that I had learned from Carly's death. I realize that she was the only other person who knew what we went through as children and was maybe the only person who could have helped me make any sense of it. In the back of my mind, I always thought we would be close later in life and that we would both help each other find the answers to what we were looking for. I love and appreciate Carly far more now than I ever did when she was alive and that fills me with such great sorrow. It bothers me so much that she essentially died alone and that she didn't know if her own brother loved her or not. Earlier this month, I got tattoos of our favorite X-Men character on my forearms to represent the two of us. One of the character as a hero (in memory of her) and one of the character after she had succumb to the darkness of her soul (to represent me). I put them on my forearms so I would see them and be reminded daily of her.
So I would go back if I could, not to stop her because I wouldn't want her to suffer any longer in life than she already had, I would go back to tell her how much I love her and how we aren't as different as we always thought we were. I would show her how much I've learned and changed because of her death. Most importantly, I would make sure that she wasn't alone when she passed. No one should die alone and in misery like that. Interestingly, one of the greatest compliments that anyone has ever given was from Carly. When Jack and I crash landed back on the mainland I had very hard time finding a place for him and I to live at here in Missoula, so Jack spent a couple of weeks with mom and Carly in Helena. I came over to Helena one weekend to see him, because I can't stand to be away from him (or Carter, but he wasn't with us then) and really needed some comfort from him at the time. We were rough housing on mom's couch when Carly came down the stairs and said, "You really love your dog." I don't know how long she had been watching us, but I think at that moment she saw the essence of who I am and just how much love I am capable of. It may not seem like a very important thing, but it has come to mean so much to me over the years. It's important to me that she could see just how soft and gentle I can be. Jack bonded with Carly while he spent time with him and mom, sleeping snuggled up against her under the covers like he has with me since he was a puppy. He was there with us at her grave side service as well.
I miss my sister every day and I will miss her every day until the day I die. I will always remember her for the beautiful person she really was. I will always be sad that I wasn't able to show her love while she was alive and for the loss of any possible future we could have had together. I spend a great deal of time trying to learn from her suicide and take meaning from it. I hope it would make her smile in knowing that her suicide helped her brother to change as much as he has and that there will always be a place in his heart dedicated to her. I love you, Carly. I always will and I'm sorry.
Sunday, May 25, 2014
Smart Fella or Fart Smella?
One of the more random ponderings that came across my mind as of recent had to do with my self perception regarding my intellect. Somewhere about half way through my especially long college career (I never failed a single class, I just couldn't decide on a subject to major in) I came to the conclusion that I am smarter than the average people around me.
Disclaimer: This post is not meant to come off as superior, smug, or arrogant (for once).
This wasn't one of those gradual sort of realizations either, it was jaw dropping, "Holy shit, I'm actually smart!", moments similar to a large insect colliding with the windshield of a speeding vehicle. I actually believe that this was one of the first moments of self awareness/realization for me. Being treated as something less than human for the majority of my childhood and teenage years instilled a very strong program into my brain, that program being that I'm worthless and that I should always believe that everyone I meet is better and more important than I am. As a result of all of this, I was never encouraged to really explore any idea that I might have an aptitude for anything. I wandered through life in that sort of fog, never questioning things and never looking beyond the experiences that I had. Waking up in your mid-20's to realize that everything that you had ever been told may be completely wrong was very unsettling for me. It was almost like I was born into a new world, but that world was almost incomprehensible to me. Looking back on my childhood, the signs were there, but Carly was always treated like she was the best at everything and to this day, I still can't get any member of my family to treat me like I'm an intelligent human being.
Though my aptitude is very high (at least I think it is), my emotional maturity is very stunted. Stunted in that I try my best not to experience feelings as much as possible (that is a tale for another time). I suddenly find myself doubting whether I'm near as smart as I think I am though. Growing up, asking questions usually elicited negative feedback for me so I became very adept at figuring things out of my own accord. To this day one of the most difficult things for me to do is to ask questions or ask for help, I will only do so if I have exhausted every resource at my disposal in pursuit of the answer to my queries. As a result, I have better than average problem solving abilities and know how to use knowledge based resources at my disposal. I honestly prefer to figure things out on my own, rather than ask for help.
One thing about grade school and high school was that I never gave a shit about my grades at all. Carly always got excellent grades, something her and mom were more than happy to compare me to on a regular basis. I never really saw the point to it though. Why should I have even cared? I never studied because I didn't have to and I didn't really see the point to that either. I always assumed that good grades were beyond my reach so it was a waste of time to even try. I carried this idea into the early years of college, I just never applied myself. Once I got into more interesting science courses, I found I had an active interest and natural ability in the subject matter. I still never applied myself properly to the course work though. All of that changed when I hit Comparative Vertebrate Anatomy. I actually failed the first practial in the class, something that had NEVER happened before. I was absolutely shocked, which I shouldn't have been because the professor said it was the academic equivalent to the "Bataan Death March". I finally applied myself to the course and wound up with a respectable "B" in the course. In retrospect, anatomy and physiology have always been easy subjects for me because I took comparative vert. The only other course that I have ever taken that required I apply myself that much was Embryology, a subject which I still hate to this day. Importantly, I finally learned that I actually was capable to getting good grades, with just a bit more effort than I had exhibited in the past.
By the time I finally figured out what I wanted to do with myself, I had already graduated with a degree in Biology, but I needed a degree in microbiology/clinical laboratory science, which required me to go back to school for another two years, plus a one year clinical internship on top of all that. By then I knew exactly what methods worked the best for me to comprehend subject material, so I managed to fly through my second degree getting good grades with minimal effort. I'm not saying I got the highest grades all of the time, I still didn't see the point in that, but I always managed to get an "A" in the majority of my courses. One of my peers that I went to school with will be happy to tell you about how much better she did on an immunology practical than I did because I was too busy playing video games the night before to study. I also made it through my clinical internship with far less effort and stress than my fellow students did, they were all too busy competing with each other for the highest grades when I knew it was all just to prime us for our board exams at the end of the year. My cavalier attitude toward the tests and course work garnered a lot of scorn from my fellow students, but to be honest, I didn't like any of them in the first place.
Anyway, I think I'm really smart and I will be more than happy to tell you that if you ask me. Is this really the case or is it pure hubris on my part? I've always prided myself on the fact that I much prefer to think for myself and come to my own conclusions, instead of having them forced down my throat. I'm not going to lie though, I'm very good at being a Clinical Laboratory Scientist and I would hope some of my former coworkers would agree with that opinion. I'm good at what I do because I apply myself to it every day and am genuinely interested in finding answers to every oddity that I come across. I never stop learning and I don't ever want to. I like to think of myself as a very critical and dynamic thinker, one who can look at the big picture without tripping on the details AND finding the tiny details when the situation warrants it. I don't know, maybe it really is all arrogant hubris on my part. So, am I a "Smart Fella" or a "Fart Smella"? You decide. I'll be over here being smug, overconfident, and arrogant.
Disclaimer: This post is not meant to come off as superior, smug, or arrogant (for once).
This wasn't one of those gradual sort of realizations either, it was jaw dropping, "Holy shit, I'm actually smart!", moments similar to a large insect colliding with the windshield of a speeding vehicle. I actually believe that this was one of the first moments of self awareness/realization for me. Being treated as something less than human for the majority of my childhood and teenage years instilled a very strong program into my brain, that program being that I'm worthless and that I should always believe that everyone I meet is better and more important than I am. As a result of all of this, I was never encouraged to really explore any idea that I might have an aptitude for anything. I wandered through life in that sort of fog, never questioning things and never looking beyond the experiences that I had. Waking up in your mid-20's to realize that everything that you had ever been told may be completely wrong was very unsettling for me. It was almost like I was born into a new world, but that world was almost incomprehensible to me. Looking back on my childhood, the signs were there, but Carly was always treated like she was the best at everything and to this day, I still can't get any member of my family to treat me like I'm an intelligent human being.
Though my aptitude is very high (at least I think it is), my emotional maturity is very stunted. Stunted in that I try my best not to experience feelings as much as possible (that is a tale for another time). I suddenly find myself doubting whether I'm near as smart as I think I am though. Growing up, asking questions usually elicited negative feedback for me so I became very adept at figuring things out of my own accord. To this day one of the most difficult things for me to do is to ask questions or ask for help, I will only do so if I have exhausted every resource at my disposal in pursuit of the answer to my queries. As a result, I have better than average problem solving abilities and know how to use knowledge based resources at my disposal. I honestly prefer to figure things out on my own, rather than ask for help.
One thing about grade school and high school was that I never gave a shit about my grades at all. Carly always got excellent grades, something her and mom were more than happy to compare me to on a regular basis. I never really saw the point to it though. Why should I have even cared? I never studied because I didn't have to and I didn't really see the point to that either. I always assumed that good grades were beyond my reach so it was a waste of time to even try. I carried this idea into the early years of college, I just never applied myself. Once I got into more interesting science courses, I found I had an active interest and natural ability in the subject matter. I still never applied myself properly to the course work though. All of that changed when I hit Comparative Vertebrate Anatomy. I actually failed the first practial in the class, something that had NEVER happened before. I was absolutely shocked, which I shouldn't have been because the professor said it was the academic equivalent to the "Bataan Death March". I finally applied myself to the course and wound up with a respectable "B" in the course. In retrospect, anatomy and physiology have always been easy subjects for me because I took comparative vert. The only other course that I have ever taken that required I apply myself that much was Embryology, a subject which I still hate to this day. Importantly, I finally learned that I actually was capable to getting good grades, with just a bit more effort than I had exhibited in the past.
By the time I finally figured out what I wanted to do with myself, I had already graduated with a degree in Biology, but I needed a degree in microbiology/clinical laboratory science, which required me to go back to school for another two years, plus a one year clinical internship on top of all that. By then I knew exactly what methods worked the best for me to comprehend subject material, so I managed to fly through my second degree getting good grades with minimal effort. I'm not saying I got the highest grades all of the time, I still didn't see the point in that, but I always managed to get an "A" in the majority of my courses. One of my peers that I went to school with will be happy to tell you about how much better she did on an immunology practical than I did because I was too busy playing video games the night before to study. I also made it through my clinical internship with far less effort and stress than my fellow students did, they were all too busy competing with each other for the highest grades when I knew it was all just to prime us for our board exams at the end of the year. My cavalier attitude toward the tests and course work garnered a lot of scorn from my fellow students, but to be honest, I didn't like any of them in the first place.
Anyway, I think I'm really smart and I will be more than happy to tell you that if you ask me. Is this really the case or is it pure hubris on my part? I've always prided myself on the fact that I much prefer to think for myself and come to my own conclusions, instead of having them forced down my throat. I'm not going to lie though, I'm very good at being a Clinical Laboratory Scientist and I would hope some of my former coworkers would agree with that opinion. I'm good at what I do because I apply myself to it every day and am genuinely interested in finding answers to every oddity that I come across. I never stop learning and I don't ever want to. I like to think of myself as a very critical and dynamic thinker, one who can look at the big picture without tripping on the details AND finding the tiny details when the situation warrants it. I don't know, maybe it really is all arrogant hubris on my part. So, am I a "Smart Fella" or a "Fart Smella"? You decide. I'll be over here being smug, overconfident, and arrogant.
Some people should never drink alcohol.
Every time when I see drunk people or people depicted as being drunk, I shudder and cringe in fright on the inside. It should be clarified that I pretty much gave up alcohol consumption altogether at about this time three years. There are several reason for this decision, starting with the fact that there is a very prominent history of substance abuse in my family, my sister in particular. Another reason is that alcohol is a depressant and anyone who knows me well, know that I don't need any extra help in that department. The last of the trivial reasons would be that I have never tolerated the stuff well and suffer from severe hangovers even from light drinking. Alcohol consumption just isn't my thing and to be honest, I really don't miss the experience for the most part.
None of the reasons above are the real reason why I gave up alcohol almost entirely, the real reason is far more serious and complicated in nature, as most everything having to do with my tends to be. Everyone knows that the more alcohol one consumes, the lower most people's inhibitions will go and this is very much that case with me......which is a bad thing. I have a great deal of what people would call inhibitions or what I call defensive measures to keep me from suffering harm at the hands of others. The lower my inhibitions go, the lower my defense measures go and the more vulnerable I become. Though this may seem fun to me at the time, having my defenses go down completely creates extreme amounts of anxiety in the aftermath. Part of the problem is that I become extremely honest with people and my feelings toward them. My ex-wife used to love it when I would get tipsy or drunk because I would spend all of my time telling her how much I loved her and whatnot (thank goodness I don't have that problem any longer). The honesty thing is almost always in a very positive fashion, but the problem comes from the fact that no one knows just how honest and serious I am being when I tell them something when I'm drunk. If there is one thing in life that I absolutely abhor, it's not being taken seriously when I'm being completely honest. The fact that most people dismiss what I am saying as being nothing more than the liquor talking works in my advantage for keeping my secrets secret.
I honestly really, really hate being drunk. Why? Because I'm no longer in control of myself and I have no idea what I may say or do, which can lead to VERY serious consequences. When I drink I remain a very jovial and fun drunk 95% of the time. Most people find me to be very entertaining and funny when I'm drunk, which is actually a pretty good thing.......as long as I stay that way. Occasionally something will happen that will bring up vivid flashbacks of past trauma, this is when not being in control of my personality and reactions becomes a very serious problem and could very easily prove to be fatal for me.
There have been a few instances in the past where something will occur to trigger a flashback within my mind and I will very abruptly go to very dark places. Fortunately for me, every time that has occurred I have been with safe people who have known that it was unsafe for me to be alone and unsupervised. The last time this sort of thing occurred was less than a week after my wife left me on the island and I came across a cougar, who had far less then Honorable intentions (a story for a later time). Now a LOT of trauma has occurred for me in the last seven years and I have suicidal thoughts on a regular basis (just this morning in fact). I even have two different plans to accomplish said task, neither one of which I have access to and my physicians have been made aware of both plans. At this point in my life consuming anything that would lower my inhibitions or lessen my control over my thoughts would be very ill advised since I would have no rational control over suicidal impulses. I don't consider this to be a bad thing though and really don't mind, I tend to want to wander through life with my senses and mind as sharp as they can be. I've personally seen too many times what substance addiction does to people and given my familial history, it's just another reason for me not to tempt fate. Mood altering substances just aren't for me, though I'm glad for people who can enjoy them.....in moderation.
None of the reasons above are the real reason why I gave up alcohol almost entirely, the real reason is far more serious and complicated in nature, as most everything having to do with my tends to be. Everyone knows that the more alcohol one consumes, the lower most people's inhibitions will go and this is very much that case with me......which is a bad thing. I have a great deal of what people would call inhibitions or what I call defensive measures to keep me from suffering harm at the hands of others. The lower my inhibitions go, the lower my defense measures go and the more vulnerable I become. Though this may seem fun to me at the time, having my defenses go down completely creates extreme amounts of anxiety in the aftermath. Part of the problem is that I become extremely honest with people and my feelings toward them. My ex-wife used to love it when I would get tipsy or drunk because I would spend all of my time telling her how much I loved her and whatnot (thank goodness I don't have that problem any longer). The honesty thing is almost always in a very positive fashion, but the problem comes from the fact that no one knows just how honest and serious I am being when I tell them something when I'm drunk. If there is one thing in life that I absolutely abhor, it's not being taken seriously when I'm being completely honest. The fact that most people dismiss what I am saying as being nothing more than the liquor talking works in my advantage for keeping my secrets secret.
I honestly really, really hate being drunk. Why? Because I'm no longer in control of myself and I have no idea what I may say or do, which can lead to VERY serious consequences. When I drink I remain a very jovial and fun drunk 95% of the time. Most people find me to be very entertaining and funny when I'm drunk, which is actually a pretty good thing.......as long as I stay that way. Occasionally something will happen that will bring up vivid flashbacks of past trauma, this is when not being in control of my personality and reactions becomes a very serious problem and could very easily prove to be fatal for me.
There have been a few instances in the past where something will occur to trigger a flashback within my mind and I will very abruptly go to very dark places. Fortunately for me, every time that has occurred I have been with safe people who have known that it was unsafe for me to be alone and unsupervised. The last time this sort of thing occurred was less than a week after my wife left me on the island and I came across a cougar, who had far less then Honorable intentions (a story for a later time). Now a LOT of trauma has occurred for me in the last seven years and I have suicidal thoughts on a regular basis (just this morning in fact). I even have two different plans to accomplish said task, neither one of which I have access to and my physicians have been made aware of both plans. At this point in my life consuming anything that would lower my inhibitions or lessen my control over my thoughts would be very ill advised since I would have no rational control over suicidal impulses. I don't consider this to be a bad thing though and really don't mind, I tend to want to wander through life with my senses and mind as sharp as they can be. I've personally seen too many times what substance addiction does to people and given my familial history, it's just another reason for me not to tempt fate. Mood altering substances just aren't for me, though I'm glad for people who can enjoy them.....in moderation.
Friday, May 23, 2014
Resentment: The art of drinking poison and expecting the other person to get sick.
"Only the unimaginative resort to violence."
I just came up with that statement above, though I seriously doubt I am the first to ponder those words. Recently I established with a new psychiatrist and had to go through the usual screening process and there are always questions regarding anger issues. I told my psychiatrist that I don't have anger issues, I have resentment issues. To some this may seem like splitting hairs, but to me it's a very distinct difference. In my mind, people with anger issues are people who are prone to outbursts of violence and/or destruction. I'm not saying that I don't have a temper or aren't prone to angry outbursts, I'm just saying that I'm not an angry person in a violent sense. This is important to establish in light of all of the recent shootings and whatnot perpetrated by people with serious mental illness. I am NOT a violent person, I abhor violence in all of it's forms. I would never bring myself to do someone else any physical harm, it's just not who I am........ that being said, physical wounds can be healed, emotional wounds take far longer to resolve and leave deeper scars.
Me and resentment go back a long way, a very very, long way. I've had resentments against people since my earliest memories (frequently resentments are the only memories that I have of my childhood). Due to the multiple levels and sources of abuse I suffered growing up, I had to develop ways to survive and give myself a reason to keep on living. Solitude helped me to survive and the idea of vengeance gave me a reason to keep living. Once again, I am not a violent person, nor do I ever want to be one. If violence is going to be how I was going to get even with those who abused me, what would I use in its stead? Simple. I want those who wronged me to know exactly what it feels like to be me. Hated. Misunderstood. Flawed. Broken. Stupid. Worthless. Less than human. A waste of time. Nothing.
To make someone else see the misery of my existence would be the absolute worst thing that I could possibly perpetrate upon another person. That speaks of how much I value myself and the pain I live with. Just once I would like to see the horror on someone's face when he or she sees what emotional pain I've endured...........that's never going to happen though and when opportunities present themselves for me to capitalize on, I rarely act, if ever. I have too much compassion, even for my enemies. Occasionally someone will fall prey to their own doings, but I almost never have a hand in it.
So I have compassion, that's great, right? Yes, I have compassion.......but I still carry the resentment with me. The resentment I have for people continually poisons my soul a little each and every day. Recently I suffered a pretty serious betrayal by numerous coworkers, one that has left me extremely bitter. On one hand, I know that they are human beings and that we all work in a very toxic and taxing work environment. One where there is virtually no acknowledgement or positive feedback from anyone other than our peers. On the other hand, the one rule I would never break would be to sell someone out like I was. We may work in a hell hole, but we are all suffering the same in said hell hole. We need to have each other's back and we need to support one another when we stumble. I've seen coworkers stumble and do things I did not approve of, but I NEVER sold any of them out (unless it presented a risk to our patients). I always let them struggle a bit to understand and come to grips with what they had done......and then I would offer my hand and support to that person. Well, I stumbled recently, more than once. In fact, I fell flat on my face. I got up, tried to dust myself off, went back too early......and got hit by a proverbial bus. Only two people held out their hand in support during any of this turbulent time for me. One is a physician and the other is someone who also knows a lot about silent kinds of pain. The rest stabbed me in the back for the favor of someone pushing an agenda. Someone who has showed time and time again that she is only out to make herself look good and will burn anyone to accomplish that goal.....and will burn those same people that betrayed me as soon as the opportunity presents itself without a second thought.
I am so bitter. I am so resentful. I want to have revenge on each and every one of those involved. I've said before, I'm always watching, I always listening, and I'm always gathering data in case situations like this arise. Worse yet, I can be very subtle, devious, and manipulative when I want to be. Information control (to hide my true self) is an every day activity for me.....turning that ability on others wouldn't take much imagination on my part and I'm VERY articulate. Since I work with a bunch of human beings, full of personal quirks and faults, I have no want for information, it's all there for the taking.
Numerous opportunities have already presented themselves and though I hunger for vengeance so much, I can't bring myself to actually take it. Of course, that makes me the better person.....or does it? I still lose at the end of the day because the resentment never goes away, nor does the hurt. So I go with the other option that I've always relied on: solitude. The cycle continues.
I just came up with that statement above, though I seriously doubt I am the first to ponder those words. Recently I established with a new psychiatrist and had to go through the usual screening process and there are always questions regarding anger issues. I told my psychiatrist that I don't have anger issues, I have resentment issues. To some this may seem like splitting hairs, but to me it's a very distinct difference. In my mind, people with anger issues are people who are prone to outbursts of violence and/or destruction. I'm not saying that I don't have a temper or aren't prone to angry outbursts, I'm just saying that I'm not an angry person in a violent sense. This is important to establish in light of all of the recent shootings and whatnot perpetrated by people with serious mental illness. I am NOT a violent person, I abhor violence in all of it's forms. I would never bring myself to do someone else any physical harm, it's just not who I am........ that being said, physical wounds can be healed, emotional wounds take far longer to resolve and leave deeper scars.
Me and resentment go back a long way, a very very, long way. I've had resentments against people since my earliest memories (frequently resentments are the only memories that I have of my childhood). Due to the multiple levels and sources of abuse I suffered growing up, I had to develop ways to survive and give myself a reason to keep on living. Solitude helped me to survive and the idea of vengeance gave me a reason to keep living. Once again, I am not a violent person, nor do I ever want to be one. If violence is going to be how I was going to get even with those who abused me, what would I use in its stead? Simple. I want those who wronged me to know exactly what it feels like to be me. Hated. Misunderstood. Flawed. Broken. Stupid. Worthless. Less than human. A waste of time. Nothing.
To make someone else see the misery of my existence would be the absolute worst thing that I could possibly perpetrate upon another person. That speaks of how much I value myself and the pain I live with. Just once I would like to see the horror on someone's face when he or she sees what emotional pain I've endured...........that's never going to happen though and when opportunities present themselves for me to capitalize on, I rarely act, if ever. I have too much compassion, even for my enemies. Occasionally someone will fall prey to their own doings, but I almost never have a hand in it.
So I have compassion, that's great, right? Yes, I have compassion.......but I still carry the resentment with me. The resentment I have for people continually poisons my soul a little each and every day. Recently I suffered a pretty serious betrayal by numerous coworkers, one that has left me extremely bitter. On one hand, I know that they are human beings and that we all work in a very toxic and taxing work environment. One where there is virtually no acknowledgement or positive feedback from anyone other than our peers. On the other hand, the one rule I would never break would be to sell someone out like I was. We may work in a hell hole, but we are all suffering the same in said hell hole. We need to have each other's back and we need to support one another when we stumble. I've seen coworkers stumble and do things I did not approve of, but I NEVER sold any of them out (unless it presented a risk to our patients). I always let them struggle a bit to understand and come to grips with what they had done......and then I would offer my hand and support to that person. Well, I stumbled recently, more than once. In fact, I fell flat on my face. I got up, tried to dust myself off, went back too early......and got hit by a proverbial bus. Only two people held out their hand in support during any of this turbulent time for me. One is a physician and the other is someone who also knows a lot about silent kinds of pain. The rest stabbed me in the back for the favor of someone pushing an agenda. Someone who has showed time and time again that she is only out to make herself look good and will burn anyone to accomplish that goal.....and will burn those same people that betrayed me as soon as the opportunity presents itself without a second thought.
I am so bitter. I am so resentful. I want to have revenge on each and every one of those involved. I've said before, I'm always watching, I always listening, and I'm always gathering data in case situations like this arise. Worse yet, I can be very subtle, devious, and manipulative when I want to be. Information control (to hide my true self) is an every day activity for me.....turning that ability on others wouldn't take much imagination on my part and I'm VERY articulate. Since I work with a bunch of human beings, full of personal quirks and faults, I have no want for information, it's all there for the taking.
Numerous opportunities have already presented themselves and though I hunger for vengeance so much, I can't bring myself to actually take it. Of course, that makes me the better person.....or does it? I still lose at the end of the day because the resentment never goes away, nor does the hurt. So I go with the other option that I've always relied on: solitude. The cycle continues.
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