Stand Up, Speak Up, Don't Give Up...

I'm officially 15 days away from turning 40...    That could very well be the weirdest thing I've ever typed..   40...  Where does the time go?   I swear I was just 20..  Not 20 years ago.. 

Anyway,  this year being a milestone birthday for me I wanted to do something a little differently.. 
This year has been a crazy year for me personally.   Starting a new job, depression rearing it's ugly head in a way that I never thought was possible.   If you read my previous posts depression took me to a place I've never been before, and pray I never get to again.  Suicide.   Thank the Lord I didn't attempt anything, but the urge was there, the thought was there, the want to do it was there.  But as I've said in past posts, something told me to go to bed and sleep on it, something made me reconsider before I took it to another level.   I'd like to think it was God who intervened that night.  I have dealt with depression or what some people would call "the blues" for many years.  But normally it would come, hit me, I'd get quiet and withdrawn for a day or two, and then it'd pass.  It wouldn't stick around long enough for me to really give it a second thought.  But this time was different.  There was a heaviness in my chest, and a small voice telling me that over the past few weeks/months I had become a burden to any and all around me.  That I was dragging them down with me, that life would be simpler and better for those if I was not around.  And that maybe I should do them a favor and take myself out of the equation and relieve them of my being a burden.  And I did feel that way,  I did feel like I was weight on everyone's shoulders.  I felt like everyone looked at me and was instantly exhausted emotionally like I drained them.  And I could not even fake being happy at this point.
I thought I was pretty good at hiding how I felt for the most part, but even I knew that there was no hiding this.  And I could not shake it.  And it was nothing against my family, nothing against my kids, nothing against my friends, it was all an inner war in my head.  And unfortunately they were the casualties of this war.   Moodiness, anger, being withdrawn, just living as a shell of a person and that's how I felt... Empty... 

I was struggling with going back to work after being off with my son for 3 years, I was unhappy at the job at that point, and that night it all came to a head.  Everyone had gone a bed, the TV was off, the lights were off out, and there I sat..  Alone with my thoughts, alone with that voice that told me that I'd had enough and that maybe it was time to stop being a burden to others.  I remember laying there crying, but not like sobs, just a steady stream of tears and my chest felt so heavy.  My mind started going a hundred miles an hour.  And it just kept getting worse and the more my mind raced, the worse the thoughts were.  I for whatever reason never came to the point of planning how I'd do it. The furthest I got was that I wouldn't have done it at home.  I would have done it somewhere away from my home and family so they wouldn't have to see anything.   That in itself is a scary thought.  But that is where I was. 

My time since has been a roller coaster of emotions.  From good days where I feel like I can take on the world and beat it.  To days where I start questioning just how much of a burden I really am to everyone.  It is quite a spectrum to go between.  There have been times I felt like maybe I was crazy and something was severely wrong with me.  There have been days I've been ashamed of how I feel and what has happened, I've felt embarrassment over feeling this way, anger for even considering taking my own life, and despair when that feeling comes back to haunt me. Medication has helped some.  I wouldn't say it has solved but I am realistic enough to know that's not how it works.  I have sought therapy but have not had luck.  As my previous employer tried to send me an hour south of my how and 2 hours south of work to a therapist in their network that worked with our schedule.  I am still interested in doing that but just haven't had the time, have forgotten, a litany of things, as to why I haven't done it as of yet.    I think the tremendous outpouring of support I have received has opened my eyes to just how many people are impacted by this.  And I was surprised at some of the people who reached out to me as I would have never have thought they could be touched by this.
It's comforting in a way to know there are those I hold dear, trust, and have known for a long time that are in a similar place as me.  It's sad that I didn't know, didn't notice, and never asked if they were ok.  It's definitely opened my eyes to mental health and all that it entails and those it touches.

That being said, here is what I was alluding to earlier.  I'm getting old this year.. I officially leave my 3's and go into my 4's...  I want to do something to make a difference, maybe open eyes to what this is all about, and to help those who may not know what to do next.  The phrase popped into my head the other day "Stand up, Speak Up, Don't Give Up."  And that has burned itself into my brain and has fueled me to want to bring awareness to mental health issues, to suicide and it's prevention, and to helping those who are in this battle.   So, for my birthday I am starting a donation drive to benefit The American Foundation For Suicide Prevention.  My goal is to raise $500 by December 2nd.  My ultimate goal is to crush that goal by a mile.  I have it on my Facebook page at the following link.   https://www.facebook.com/donate/1971683886486809/

If you feel a pull to donate it would be appreciated in ways you couldn't imagine. And I would be just as thankful.  If you don't feel comfortable, that's ok too.  Prayers, Good Thoughts, Vibes, Ju Ju, whatever your belief is will be just as happily accepted.

I've known many people who have committed suicide and a few that have attempted and luckily have not succeeded.   It's a scary, dark, subject.  But one I feel must be talked about and brought to the attention of people.  I encourage you to do as my post states if you are one of the millions impacted by depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, etc..    Stand Up... Speak Up... Don't Give Up...

Until Next Time....

Be Well,
Rob

Dad Doody.....

I just found this in a blog that I had started but never completed.   Enjoy a few laughs at my expense..   The things we get to do as parents are some of the most glamorous jobs one could ever have..  Try not to be too jealous at what I got to do in this blog.  I know it was an experience I will never forget...  But I'm trying to..   Enjoy.

Now, Saturday's are for the most part relaxing during the day.  I mean we do some clean up, she does some laundry.  But the evenings are usually pretty busy.  She is forever doing laundry and all the kids need a bath or shower.   The oldest is 12 and obviously can do it himself.   I run baths for the 7 yr old twins, but they get in and out and dry/dress themselves.  Then there's the 3 year old....   He isn't old enough to do it himself, so his bath is run, his hair is washed, he's washed up, then he gets to play for awhile.   He does as any 3 year old will do in the bath tub, he "swims",  he plays with washcloths, he dumps water from one cup to another or into empty bottles and then pours it on himself (and most times all over the floor as well).   

While he is in the bath, I usually sit out in the hall outside the door where he can see me.  I either play on my tablet or do dad things to make him laugh.  Usually that means throwing a balled up towel in the air and letting it  hit me in the head and pretending it knocks me out.  Or, laying in the hall and peeking around the doorway at him, or even yelling at him not to pour water on himself (jokingly in a funny voice).    Usually he spends about 15-20 minutes in there playing then gets pulled out, dried, and dressed.

This Saturday however was different...  He's in the tub playing and doing his thing when suddenly he stops, stands up, and starts yelling for me to get him out...   Now, this isn't really anything out of the norm as sometimes he just really wants out.  So I put down my tablet, get up, and take two steps into the bathroom and notice what appears to be something stuck to the wall..  It registers as poop, but my mind will not allow that to be what it actually is.  So of course I inspect and confirm that it is infact fecal art neatly hung on the wall..  My mind immediately goes to the twins because.. well..  they're gross and have been known in the past to exhibit their finger painting skills before on the bathroom walls.   So I start yelling for them to come down and I explain what I've found and they both deny doing it.   No big surprise there, they always deny at first but usually grilling them will break the one who did it.  But they weren't backing down...  Ok..  This is going to be tougher than usual..  Just as I'm about to channel my super interrogation skills when one of the twins screams "Dad! Bub pooped in the bath tub!!!!!"  Time instantly slowed to a crawl,  I see battleships trekking across the bathtub on Bub created waves..   And I instantly want to cry..    Great...  I'm beyond excited at the prospect of cleaning this up so I ask if there's a lot, and the reply I get from one of the twins is "no, there isn't much at all just a couple small pieces."   Ok, a couple small pieces I can deal with.  So Bub is out of the tub, after a check to make sure he was rinsed and poo free he is toweled off and dressed. 

Now, onto the clean up.  I walk toward the tub thinking that I could possibly wash the "few small pieces" down the drain or something right?.  As I take a look into the tub I then realize that not only has he pooped in the bath tub, but then realized he had to that point not pooped all day..   Needless to say he unloaded at least half his body weight into in the bath tub and none if it was small...  I don't know what small means to the twin who informed me but he was clearly wrong, so very, very, wrong...

Did I mention this was a bubble bath as well?  Normal bath with no suds would have been too much to ask for.  Nope, I get to play mine sweeper through bubbles as he has left all toys in the tub in his rush to abandon ship..  So I muster up the courage to start draining the tub, and as I do I start plucking toys out of the tub praying that the boats I'm pulling out do not have any stowaways on board...  Luckily they do not.  I get the tub cleared and wait for the water and bubbles to drain and reveal what lies beneath. 

So, finally the tub drains completely and as feared he has left both the tub and my soul destroyed.  There are few feelings as helpless as the feeling of figuring out how to clean out a tub full of poo without touching it, throwing up, or ending the child who did it.    With tears in my eyes I set forth and clean the tub out employing the roll of toilet paper to clean out each thing.   I then disinfect the tub with cleaner, spray it down, and rinse it out.  After which I call it good and retire to the living to weep silently for a few moments and try to shake that scene from my head.   I know this is something that kids do, and this isn't the first time I've been at the butt end of it (see what I did there?)  My oldest actually helped me try to clean out the tub with his bare hands when he was younger.  That was fairly horrific.  

As parents we are forced into doing some jobs that some people would not even dream of doing.  From cleaning up fecal filled tubs, to kids throwing up everywhere, stepping in things, bumps, bruises, cuts, scrapes, the list is endless.  I know I put my own parents through a ton with multiple broken bones, sprains, dislocations, and more surgeries than I have fingers on one hand.  But you go through it and you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world...

Anyway, there is a small look into an evening in our house.  Hope you enjoyed a laugh at my expense.  And I'll drop another entry here in the next few days.

Until then, be well...

Rob

Update On Life..

Well, it's been awhile hasn't it?  I've purposely taken a step back from my blog over the last couple of months to gain a little perspective and I felt like maybe I was getting a little whiny in my entries.

I know that depression isn't whining and that sharing it can and does help.  But, I also still feel like a burden when I feel like this and talk about it.  That is honestly one of the hardest aspects of this to deal with.  The fact I want to talk about it, I want to help others who feel this way, but I feel like such a weight on everyone's shoulders when I talk about it in depth.   

So what has been going on since I last wrote?   Well,  I left my job and accepted another with a Hospice/Home Healthcare company in their Customer Relations dept.  I'm working 3rds which I'm not nuts about, but the pay is significantly better than my previous job.   I'm getting used to it but the whole almost reverse sleep cycle is hard to get used to.  I work Tues-Thurs then am off until the following Friday, then I work Fri-Sun, have Monday off and start the cycle over again.  So it will be rough working 76 hours in a 7 day span, but then I get a week off in between.  So I guess we will see how that all shakes out. 

I also have another interesting interaction with a homeless person not too long ago.  If you have read my earlier blogs I have mentioned that I have had some unique experiences with homeless people and giving them money.  This one is no different.  I took my oldest son to the post office in downtown Jackson to mail some pictures to a friend of mine for his birthday.  We parked and as we got out of the car I see this guy sitting outside the post office door with a sign. So instantly I know I want to do something for him.  The guy as we approach the building asks if I have any spare change, I didn't so I punched him in the face..  Ok, so I didn't,  but I didn't have any change but I felt compelled to ask what he needed change for.  He told me he was laid off from his job 4 months after his wife left the family.  He and his son were staying at a hotel but his disability he was getting wasn't enough to pay rent and food.  He said he was trying to find what work he could do in the meanwhile.  Whether he was or not isn't for me to judge or worry about.  So either the guy was extremely sincere, or he was a heck of an actor and should be making more than pocket change on a sidewalk.    I told him I didn't have any spare change but to hold tight and I'd get him on the way out.   So we go in pay for and mail the stuff and I broke a $50 that I had.  My oldest asked what I was going to do and I just said "help the guy out."   As we walked out I handed him $25 and about 70 cents in change that I had.  The guy welled up instantly and said "Bless you brother" and came forward and asked if he could hug me.  That was a first for me.  And while I may not seem like the hugging type I really don't mind.  So I said sure and he hugged me and said thank you and that it would buy some food for sure.  I apologized for not being able to give more and he assured me that what I did was more than enough.
And he said he was going to head back to his motel and get his son and pick up some food for supper.
He shakes my hand and thanks me again and I say that I wish I could do more and he heads off up the sidewalk and out of sight.    We get back to the car and Caleb goes "wow dad, that was really cool of you."   Then he comes out of left field with "why did you let him hug you?  What if he would have stabbed you?  And why did you give him $25?"    I just said "I wasn't worried about him stabbing me, I figure if he's a big enough man to humble himself and beg for money then he needs it more than I do and I don't think he would do that in order to stab someone.  If hugging me is his way of thanking me, I am fine with that.  And ultimately, how much I give him isn't important because it's not my money to begin with."   It was a great way to show the example that everything we have is on loan from God and to give freely with what you do have.   And I could tell it impacted him.  He mentioned a couple more times that it was cool to see that interaction and to see someone so touched by something as simple as $25 dollars.   I told him that we may not be rich monetarily but God has shown Himself to us through this experience.  He has shown us that even when we think we have very little, it can mean so much more to someone who has less.  And to also be grateful for what we do have and for what we can give to others who are not as fortunate. 

I also had another experience even more recently where I was coming home from a friends house in Lansing.  As I was coming up West Ave in Jackson I came to a stop light that was blinking red and so I stopped.  I saw a guy carrying a back pack standing about 6 feet from my truck and waving at me.  He was probably in his late 20's and I've never described anyone like this before, he had a very kind face.  He was clearly homeless and so I rolled my window down and he walks up and thanks me for stopping (I kinda had to for the red blinking light)  and asks.  "I know it's late, but I've been walking all day and I was headed to the train station, do you think it'd be possible to give me a lift?"   Then he said something interesting "I don't have any weapons, and I'll put my bag in the back of your truck."  Remembering the conversation I had with Caleb I told the guy sure and he climbed in.  He stuck his hand out and said "my name is Corey, thank you so much for the ride man."   I asked where he was coming from and he said had hitched from Coldwater to Albion and walked from Albion to Jackson.  He had family in Jackson but couldn't show up in the middle of the night so he was going to sleep at the train station and that he had done so before.  Then mentioned that he was hungry and said he had to think about trying to find some food in the morning.  I offered to buy him something to eat and he refused, I said it was no problem and after sitting there a second he asked if it would be too much trouble to stop at like Taco Bell..  I said no and we doubled back and he wanted 3 hard tacos.  It didn't come to much and all I had was a $20. So I paid and my change was like $14 and so I handed it to him with the food and told him to use it for coffee tonight and breakfast tomorrow or something.  He just kept saying "thank you man, thank God I ran into you."   Again, I don't know  if I was being hustled or not but it's not important and it's not up  to me to worry about.  To me it was another opportunity to help someone out.    So I dropped him at the station and he thanked me again and wished me the best.  It was a cool interaction.   I didn't once worry about him doing anything once he got in the truck because something told me he was ok.  And I'm generally pretty good at reading people. 

So all these interactions I've had over the last few years have got to mean something or be leading up to something.  Because up until a few years ago I never had these kinds of experiences or even the opportunity to have them.  And now it's been like 5 or 6 in the last few years that have really stuck with me.   I just wish I knew what it all meant.   As I have said the verse Matthew 25:40 is one that as soon as I read it something clicked in me and it has stuck with me since.  The first bible verse I have ever memorized and that has impacted me personally. 

Outside of that things have been things ya know?  This depression deal should come with some sort of owners guide so you know what is coming and what to expect because man, this deal kinda sucks..

The meds have helped but they don't solve everything, nor did I think they would.  But it just feels like I get to the point where I have a grip on it, and have it under control, then it rears it's head and reminds me that I really am not even close.  Good days and bad..  But the bad days hurt man...  There are days I just want to sit there and cry or just feel hopeless and want to cry.  And there have been a few times I do just cry for no reason.  Makes me feel like a complete headcase ya know?  And I've been told it's ok and that it's normal with depression to feel that way.  But when you haven't really knowingly dealt with it, it doesn't feel normal.  All I know is I hate it.   I still feel broken,  I still feel like a burden,  and I still feel like sometimes it would be easier if I wasn't here to burden others and myself at the same time.  But I also am realistic enough to know that I have too much to leave behind, and as selfish as I could be, and feel like I am for feeling this way.  I know I could never be selfish enough to go through with it.   So I know I have that grounding me and I'm thankful for that. 

That's really all I have for right now.  Hopefully I can get on some sort of roll and hammer out more entries here in the upcoming days/weeks. 

Until then, be well...

Rob