Fork In The Road

There are times in your life where you’ll be standing at a fork in the road, and not even realize how detrimental this one decision can be. How vast a contrast one decision from another really is. Or how it will alter your entire life. This was me when I decided to leave Germany to follow the love of my life to the States. This was the difference between expansion and stagnation. This wasn’t just a turning point, it was the turning point.

This is Michael Heppner; Husband, father, German Teacher, and Boys Soccer Coach, but his story holds so much value beneath that. I respect his ability to self reflect, and not only observe past faults and take ownership but also a willingness to correct them, is something we can all learn from. Thank you for taking the time to share the parts of you that make you who you are today.

Can you think of a time you were untrue to yourself?

Honestly, I spent from the day I was born, to 19 years old, always trying to be something or someone that I wasn’t. I came from an environment that reinforced that the external mattered more than the internal. This was a part of an era that many can relate to, perhaps you could say a generational way of thinking. These outside markers were of utmost importance…the win, the grade, the success…always measuring.

My brother was held to a very high standard, there were expectations to be a teacher and do big things in life. He was very intelligent and met the standards given, however, this wasn’t the same for me. There were predetermined opinions and expectations of me as well, most of which I felt were negative. Instead of proving them wrong by showing them who I truly was, I behaved in a way that actually solidified that opinion of me. My father would tell me, ‘Michael, you are not very bright, but you are a hard worker. Get a job in construction, or drive truck.’ Even though I was intelligent, I chose not to show it. Instead, I chose to drink, smoke and make poor decisions. With poor decisions, came poor grades and consequences. It wasn’t until later that I realized that wasn’t a life I had to live, and there were other options and avenues to pursue.

What was a major crossroad in your life?

Growing up, my mom was a butcher and my dad a Lieutenant Colonel in the German Military, so my home life was very structured and controlled. My mom made every meal, did my laundry, and cleaned, so much so, that I still find myself falling back into old habits when I enter their home. There’s very little of my daily routine that wasn’t calculated. Upon graduation, I entered the military, as this is a one-year minimum requirement for citizens in Germany. This included living in the barracks during the week and returning home on the weekends. I had become so used to being at home, with comfort and structure, that I would cry on Sundays, knowing I had to leave again. The plan after Basic Training was to be a cook in the Military and live at home.

It’s 1998, and I’m in my prime. I’m 21 years old when I attend our town festival ‘Karneval’. The “cool” thing at the time was to have “business cards” made with your address and the school you’re attending. My buddy made me some that had just come in that day. Before leaving that night, I gave my card to this girl. I didn’t think I’d hear from her, but a few weeks later, I got a letter in the mail. She was nannying for a family an hour from my parents. From then on out, we spent as much time together as we could before she had to leave for the States. This was my first glimpse into the possibility of life outside of the mundane routine I’d become accustomed to. That day, the festival, the business card, the timing – HER. It changed everything, forever. She later became my wife and a catalyst for the life I wanted to live.

How was the transition to the US? If you could sum up America in a phrase, what would it be?

My parents were not only devastated when I left but again when I become an official American citizen. When I got US citizenship, my mom said: “Mike, it’s like we’re losing you all over again.” It’s difficult to take on a new culture, especially when you’re so shielded from the world. Alot of things were regulated, there’s no fishing or hunting, and you also don’t have school sports. They’re separate from each other. You can’t even have a bonfire in your backyard. When you have 82 million people living in a space the size of Montana, living gets tight, you don’t have yards and some basic freedom that we’re used too here..

My one phrase to sum up America, in my opinion, is “From the dishwasher to the millionaire, America is great!”

What is the biggest mistake or failure, that has also been your greatest teacher?

My dad was my badminton coach and I was very involved with soccer. Never was I asked how the game was, or if I had fun, only if we won. If we lost, it was on me/us to continually do better and more. Winning became not only a measurement of success but also a measurement of self-worth. You won, no matter the cost. Period. That mentality carried over into my coaching when I started coaching Girls Soccer. I didn’t realize the capacity in which my actions were hurting others. I would scream on the sidelines, outraged at mistakes and losses. At a certain point, my wife quit coming to the games because of my behavior. But I didn’t care, and I didn’t know better. The win was everything, it was the only measuring tool.

A couple of years into coaching, it was mandated that we attend a conference called “Why We Play”. Apprehensive and annoyed at the thought of wasting a summer day in a conference instead of fishing, I went. There was one phrase that struck me, “You don’t work at, or win a sport, you play a sport”. This changed the way I coached from that day forward. It took a lot of introspection, and self-examination of my behaviors and my belief systems behind what sports are. I want the players to learn and grow from opportunities, not to teach through dictating from a fear-driven perspective. Instead of being a measurement of self-worth, I want them to reflect on if they put their best effort forth. I want them to know we can have personal wins, without winning the game.

I destroyed a lot of relationships with athletes and ruined their love for sports. To this day, I deeply regret those wrongs. I have learned that the most important part of teaching and coaching, is the positive impact you can have on anyone, despite their performance. There is an opportunity for growth through every “failure”. Now, I coach from the sidelines, I don’t pull a player out for every mistake or ridicule them in front of their teammates. I know they are doing the best they can at the time, and my job is to allow them to learn in a safe environment. My passion for both coaching and teaching has changed from winning to connection and support.

What is something most wouldn’t know about you?

I was a vegetarian for most of my childhood. For the longest time, I only ate bread and chocolate milk. When your mother is a butcher, this is an insult. When you don’t have a lot of control in your life, you focus on the things you can control. For me, it was what I ate. My parents took me to Psychologists to better understand what was “wrong” with me but were not successful. I didn’t know how to verbalize it at the time, but I would say it was my way of being defiant, feeling as if I had a say in one area of my life.

What is your greatest accomplishment(s)?

I would be lying if I said a primary drive behind obtaining my teaching degree, was just others’ opinions of me. The idea of the degree seemed too high of an expectation, but a challenge I was up for, largely in part of the encouragement from my wife. Although history intrigues me, I thought I could add another dynamic to teaching German by being able to share the culture from a personal perspective. Earning this degree was a huge milestone, it represents so many things to me. I am grateful to be able to teach youth, and I hope in ways that extend beyond the mandated curriculum.

Who is the most influential person in your life?

Hands down, without a doubt, my wife, Debbie. Without her, there’s a lot of things I wouldn’t be, she’s all of my reasons.

Overall, when I see things being done that I don’t agree with, or poor role models, I just try and take note of that, and do the opposite, to the best of my abilities.

**We can all learn from others’ stories! Feel free to share if this resonates with you!**

**If you’re at a ‘fork in the road’ in your life and would like additional support, book a complimentary call at www.crisisaverted.org **

Just Today

Brighton Collage 4-2019

My mom had me at the age of 50, she thought she was going through menopause and went to the doctor, only to find out she was pregnant…with number 6 of the bunch. She cried the whole way home, and then I came along!

Welcome to the life of Bryan Brighton, a PEM High School English teacher, husband, and father of 3. Little did I know in the 10th grade, that this man, would be one of the primary reasons behind my love to write. It was not hard to enjoy his class and his enthusiasm for it. From jumping on desks to explain that there is in fact, no difference between 1 exclamation mark and 5 (who knew?), to reading “To Kill a Mockingbird”, there was a comedic seriousness when entering his room. A second descendant from England immigrants, and a man with great stories and insight, I hope you enjoy!

What was your biggest struggle in High School?

My dad passed away at the age of 59 from a heart attack. I was 13 years old. After that, I had this overwhelming fear of abandonment. I never wanted to be left behind or miss out. If my friends were meeting at 7 pm, I would show up at 6:30 just to make sure they didn’t leave without me. And it wasn’t just with particular people, it was with anyone. Being left behind wasn’t an option.

What has been the biggest life changing event for you? In what ways has it changed the way you live your life?

Going to the doctor at my lowest point, forever changed my life, as well as the ways in which I was thinking and living. After my mom passed, my depression intensified. Alot. Walking into that office came with it this instantaneous moment of release and relief. I just sat and cried, and talked. It literally saved my life. By making this decision, it opened up an entire new conversation surrounding mental health about our family history that I was unaware of.

It was amazing what surfaced once the dialogue began. I reached out to my siblings and just told them what was going on, and suggested that if they had any of these symptoms, they were worth getting checked out. Through talking, we realized there were similarities amongst us that we’ve shared and it’s also created dialogue with our children.

Another life changer, was after getting a medication change. I had maxed out on my current med, and needed to up my dose, which consisted of bringing in another medication, Wellbutrin. This was the first time in my life that the thought process of ‘if I don’t wake up tomorrow, it will be ok’, stopped. For as long as I can remember, I had this thought process daily. When at my lowest, it worsened. Even while on Celexa, I would still have these thoughts. I didn’t even realize how content I was thinking this, or that it wasn’t normal to think.

What was depression for you?

You’ll hear people say ‘those were the dark years’, but you never really understand what they mean. Until you look back at old pictures and see yourself, as if there’s this invisible weight you were carrying, and you think, oh, yep, now I get it. Those were my ‘dark years.’

Depression for me, was total and complete exhaustion, while also not sleeping at night. I’ve always struggled with not sleeping, another thing I just thought was normal. When overly tired, depression rages on my internal monologue. It will ramp up and escalate quickly. What may begin as ‘don’t forget to buy bread’, can quickly become repetitive, followed by screaming in my head, drowning out other thoughts.

My career was always the divider though. Whether in the Marines or teaching, when I entered that zone of structure, I was in my element. I knew what was coming, how to perform and was still able to be my goofy self. No one in that environment would have guessed I was struggling. But once I hit my front door, the only thing I wanted was my bed. It is exhausting to be so exhausted. My family didn’t get the best of me, instead, they got too tired, cranky me, and that wasn’t fair.

Depression for me, was flirting with the idea of yanking the steering wheel just enough to the left as a semi was approaching in oncoming traffic to end it all, more often than I care to admit.

What’s the biggest lie you’ve been told?

Before I got married, everyone always told me to enjoy being single while I could, because once you get married, it’s going to be hard work. Everyone said it takes so much to make the relationship work and stay together. I’ve been married for 25 years, and it’s the easiest thing I’ve done, and it’s been anything but work. Of course, there are things we don’t agree on, and we have to talk through it, but I don’t know that we’ve ever yelled at each other, or even hit a point of such intensity.

People will tell you ‘never quit, never give up’. And that is true in certain things. I do believe that if you start a season, project or make a commitment, you should finish it. But I also believe there are certain points in life, where you have to be okay with letting something, or someone, go.

The career tests are liars. They will tell you, if you take this test, we’ll be able to tell you what you’ll be when you grow up. I was supposed to be a Forest Ranger. So…yeah….gotta go with a lie on that one.

What comes to mind when you think about the most difficult choice, or thing you’ve had to do in your life?

Hanging in there when the only reason not to is disappointing others. Prior to getting help there were so many deep holes and so many easy ways out. You’re so tired …. all the time and just getting up every morning is like …ugghhhh. When you have little kids, a spouse, Moms and all these people that you couldn’t bear the thought of putting through the sadness, the questions, the years and lifetimes of wondering ‘what if you just keep on keeping on’? You always remember, I just have to do it today.

Feel free to share, if this story resonates with you!

Despite where we’re at in life, we can all use additional support. Let’s connect! For a complimentary phone call, visit http://www.crisisaverted.org to schedule!

The Beginning

Jos sr pic hammock

Jos sr pic bench

 

 

 

 

 

She is the face behind the face of the company, Crisis Averted. The real story. The reason it launched and exists. Most companies begin with credentials that include a 4-year bachelors degree with a major and a minor in specific fields of study. I’m often asked if I have a Psychology degree, if I’m a licensed counselor or if I’m paid by the public school systems. The answer is “no” to all. Which usually follows by a puzzled look of what exactly Life Coaching is or what these public speaking engagements could possibly include!

This companies credentials begin with the face in the picture. Her name is Josie. It began with a death by suicide. Then a phone call. The one that changes everything. The one where you realize never again would you be who you once were. It began with the cold hard truth of what that really looks like and how absolutely terrible it is to feel so helpless, not being able to save another human being from the depths of their own hell. Even worse, was not knowing it was anywhere near that bad. It followed with unending guilt, depression and sadness that words can’t describe. The heaviness of her pain was instantaneously transferred to those left behind.

Then, it was being forced to walk the same path she did. One I simply could never understand prior. It was being buried in a pillow that I never wanted to leave. Followed by the bottle. The bottle of booze, the bottle of meds, (never ending medications to “fix” me), a pack of marlboros and even more external toxicity at every corner. After learning how to overcome those, it was learning to feel again without constant numbing. And I am not going to lie when I say that was more painful then any hang over! From there was acceptance. Which, on days like today, can feel light years away. Then there was forgiveness of self. Shit, that one my friends, is the toughest mountain to climb!

11 years ago, I wouldn’t have guessed this is what would’ve stemmed from something so atrocious. There was this silent pull to keep moving, even in the depths of chaos. Blindly putting one foot in front of the other. Stumbling backwards, falling, getting back up. Doors slammed shut, while others opened. This company, this mission, me, as a person – stems from her, her life and even more so, her death and the lessons that followed. They are my credentials, they are more then any text book or shiny degree could offer. Its debt comes with one that no number can justify. It began with the worst outcome imaginable and has turned into what I can only hope, will be the best thing possible. I can’t save her, perhaps she was never ours to save. I can’t go back and redo one single second of it. But I can change it from here on out.

You see, it isn’t about mental illness, it’s about mental health. It isn’t about fixing, it’s about growing. It isn’t about numbing, it’s about feeling. It isn’t about resistance, it’s about acceptance. It isn’t about them, it’s about us. It isn’t about external blame, it’s about internal peace. It’s about learning all of these, and then continually relearning them over and over again. It’s about what we’re here for. The life we want to live, one with passion, purpose and fulfillment. And most of all, it’s about healing.

http://www.crisisaverted.org

You aren’t alone and your story isn’t for nothing.

Jos and I senior pic

Jos & I country fest 06

Our Youth

Customized Class 1

After listening to hundreds of students feedback ranging from Jr. to Sr. High, I can’t help but wonder if I would know my own child’s response if it were in front of me. In fact, I wonder if most parents would know their know their child’s response. We’re so good as parents, teachers and adults of just assuming we know best. We assume that because we like something, our kids will too. We assume they don’t see parts of us we don’t want them to see. We assume they don’t pick up on the silence, on the tone, or the expectations we place before them. We assume that because our experiences have been a certain way, theirs must be the same. And that’s assuming that any would engage in these deeper levels of conversation, with true honesty. I’m guilty of all of the above.

How many times do we, as parents allow our kids the platform to speak outside of “how was your day?” How many times do we take time to consciously engage in deeper conversations, on a more regular basis. How often do we self reflect on where things within our homes may need attention before pointing the blame on our kids or teachers? After all, our kids are simply repeating most of our own behaviors. Are we taking the time to really listen? I know I’m good for wanting to just fix it, or make it go away, instead of letting them feel and learn that feeling is part of it, even the not so pretty stuff. I want to make it all better instead of allowing them to speak for themselves and have a voice. Also guilty on all charges.

Are we aware of the apps that are on their devices, the messages or snaps being sent? Would we realize if they were self harming? Would we have any clue that the reason they’re acting out may have more to do with what’s happening on a device, at school or at home, then perhaps even the current situation? Would we know if they were hurting to the extent they’ve considered ending their lives? Sounds intense, right? Well, I invite you to get a glimpse into their lives, because I can promise you, it can be far different then they sometimes lead on, and these are plenty of our own children answering with these responses. Now that we’ve heard from parents and teachers, please, take the time to read, to listen and to engage in these deeper conversations in your homes. They’re so desperately needed. They have voices, not only do they need to be heard, but they deserve to be heard, for they’re powerful.

*Please note: The intention of this entry isn’t to shame anyone, it’s simply to bring awareness to our blind spots as adults, as we all have them, especially when it comes to our own children. It’s simply to bring awareness to today’s youth, they way they may be feeling and opening up a different dynamic of conversation at the dinner table.**

What do you feel is the biggest struggle being in SCHOOL?

“Keeping good grades and trying to be at your best 100% of the time”.

“Being able to balance sports, homework and relationships”.

“Feeling like I have to take on everything and make it perfect for my parents and friends to accept me.”

“Always trying to fit in, I never know what music I should listen to, sports I should play or things I should like, just to get people to like me”

“Always worried about my next test or what my grade will be and if I’ll get into college.”

“Constantly being told and reminded I’m not good enough”

“Trying not to get caught up in judgement. That’s all high school is, is constantly feeling judged by other students, friends and teachers”.

“Expected to stay focused all day everyday, at school and at home”.

“Feeling like teachers act like the students, trying to be cool or favoring or judging. Not having that safe place at school.”

“If I’m not in sports, I don’t belong”

“It can feel like a war zone some days, always trying to fit in and avoid being judged, it can be really tiring”

What is your biggest struggle at HOME?

“I am on my phone alot at home, most of us are. We used to eat together and do more things together, now I’m just always in my room on my device.”

“My parents fighting over who is more right or who is the better parent”

“Switching houses constantly. I feel like once I finally get settled into one house, I go to the next.”

“Always feeling like I need to be studying or on the court – it’s never enough.”

“My mom/dad struggle with anxiety and depression, it’s hard not to be sad when they’re sad or not get caught up in their emotional struggles.”

“Trying to make my parents happy”

“Having parents that don’t fight”

“Time management”

“My mom struggles with anxiety. It’s hard to watch and it makes me have anxiety when she’s having an attack.”

“Addiction. My dad drinks alot, it makes it really hard on my siblings and I, we just try to avoid him so he doesn’t get mad.”

“Watching my sister have really bad depression and has to leave the home to get help so she stops hurting herself.”

“My brother had a really bad last year, it was so hard on my family, I think it’s better now though. I hope so.”

“Listening to my parents talk smack about each other and to each other about who is the worst parent.”

How can those around you better SUPPORT you?

“Just listen”

“Don’t try and fix me all the time”

“Stop trying to make me be perfect”

“Just pay attention to me and what I’m saying and don’t yell when I do talk”

“Ask me more questions and check in on me from time to time”

“Let me be imperfect”

“Let me be me, I’m not you.”

 

 

Resume of Life

Blog Resume of Life

As I began the fun filled process of drafting a cover letter and resume for a possible job prospect, I realize the difficulty in writing, trying to “sell” myself, while trying to dissect parts of me that are most suiting for this position. Instead, I end up writing a different type cover letter and resume, with 3 things running in my mind:

– If I had to sum my life up in 3-5 paragraphs, what would it be?

– Why aren’t more important questions asked and addressed during these processes, you can learn so much more about a person from their personal triumphs and failures then you can asking repetitive, surface questions.

– If you could give yourself advice, followed by the lesson of that decade, what would it be?

Welcome to my resume of life….I highly recommend everyone attempt writing their own, it’s amazing to see your life on paper, the triumphs and tribulations – all meshed together through the decades, forming pieces of you as you went, without even realizing it!

To The Director of My Career:

Due to the fact I didn’t fit well with the average student in the classroom or athletically in High School, I made myself known through rebellion instead. Even though my friends were members of the Honor Society and lettered in athletics, I had a knack for throwing a killer party, while also being the life of the party. Literally, life was one big party to me, whether under the influence or not, I lettered in communication!

Advice: you are more then what you’re made to feel by those around you and even more so, the stories you tell yourself to fit in. Don’t listen, nor cling to the negativity and insecurity – they are simply bad stories you tell yourself to mask the parts of you that feel as if she doesn’t fit in, in ways she’s “supposed” too.

Lesson – even the best party planner is not exempt from consequences and the realization that substances can only mask so much for so long. Know when you’re clinging to something too tightly, be it a person, place, thing, status or behavior – it doesn’t define you – I promise. Let it go, grieve it if you need too – but be ready for something better.

I entered my 20’s with the birth of my daughter, also known as my saving grace and the one amazing thing from this decade. For as scared as I was to be a mom, it became home immediately. The age of 23 marked what became the decade of trauma – or the 3 D’s – death, divorce and depression. This era included periods of wanting to tap out of life, more then stay in it. I was driven primarily by guilt, regret and anger, which were the few driving motivating emotions through the depression. I was reliant on needing to be “fixed” especially in the head, with that fixing came large doses of medication, then the need for more fixing with health ailments from their side effects. This became a new crutch, on top of the others that I whole-heartedly relied on. While trying to stay afloat and navigate my way through the fog, I don’t realize all of the things I’m learning about myself as I go.

Advice: Hold on – tight. These are the years of the most expansive self growth but hands down the most painful.

Lesson: You are the healer of you – keep going. You are an ocean – full of layers upon layers of traumas and triumphs, and every emotion in between. Even the ocean resurfaces some of it’s deepest buried treasures and skeletons. No one is exempt. You will always come home to you, there’s only so much hate, blame and anger you can extend outwards without realizing you are the only person that you will always have to face in the mirror.

My 30’s have been a breath of fresh air considering – like a phoenix rising from the ashes, I can finally see the light for more then a second in the drowning seas. Although the seas still manage to knock me around from time to time, swallowing me in the grief, heartache, guilt and shame – they’re reminding me I’m still human and what I have left to work on and heal. This is the decade where things have come to light again and again – an awakening of awareness. Just when I think I’m done working through something – it resurfaces in a new light – reminding me the work is always there, but so damn refreshing and liberating to push through once I’m able to see the view from the other side. Feels good to slowly but surely be free from the chains that have bound me through each era. Breaking away one at a time.

Advice: call it the new era of “mid-life crisis” if you may, but take it as an amazing opportunity to see life through a new lens. Even if it has to start over now, you’re still young enough to embrace it and start anew, while wise enough to have the past 2 decades’ knowledge to do it differently. 😉

Lesson: we’re all constantly learning, but learning to not think and act from a place of self hate has been the hardest to overcome. Its where you need to learn to be nicer to yourself, while breaking ideas around “right, wrong, good and bad” and do what feels right for you, giving yourself room to falter without judgement. We all have shadow sides, quit focusing and hating those parts so much, and accept it for what it is. You aren’t every skeleton. Continue to move along – it’s only going to get better.

Resume:

Teens (1999-2002)

  • Amazing communicator (first comment at every conference since Kindergarten!)
  • Plans great parties
  • Always smiling and laughing
  • Rebellion to fit in and stand out at the same time
  • Prefers nothing except English and Psychology

Twenties (2004-2014)

  • Learned the definition of being a mother
  • Traded in being a rebel for people pleasing
  • More concerned with fitting in and being a “good” mom/person and outside perception of me
  • Trial and error career, all customer service based
  • Survivor of suicide, divorce, depression, high cholesterol, high blood pressure, and being dangerously over medicated
  • Drowned in depression, guilt, shame, self-hate, self-loathing, vodka, marlboros and toxicity (it became my new norm and home)
  • Learned living instead of dying
  • Still an amazing communicator – just wanna talk about the deep stuff

Thirties (2014-current) * All still a work in progress 😉

  • Learned what healing what the inside out meant
  • Advocate for a new paradigm around mental health
  • Jack of all trades, master of few, and ok with that
  • Learning to embrace the shadow side of myself
  • Learner of forgiveness in every sense of the word, while continually being forced back to the drawing board to reexamine it every time it reappears.
  • Overcomer of anger, guilt and shame
  • Sees the world through the eyes of an Aquarian, a dreamer of the bigger picture
  • Embracer of all that is right and just on a humanitarian level
  • Awakened to the ways of the world, behavior, emotion and trauma
  • Believe there is always a core far beneath the surface of the current issue, and a ripple that expands from it
  • Did I say an amazing communicator? 😉

Education

  • Completion of the amazing ACTV8 program http://actv8.vanessafeils.com/
  • Currently still enrolled in life lessons of forgiveness of self
  • Learning mental illness doesn’t mean broken with a fixed sign on it – only room for growth and expansion of self awareness

**If you could sum up your life resume with a word or sentence for each decade, what would it be? Any advice or major lessons learned from each?**

*If this resonates, feel free to share on social media!*

Your Story

Blog - StoriesNovember 14th, 2007 marks the “9-11” of my world. A date that became a dreaded day in my history book, one that shook me to my core, a depth I didn’t know was possible. This day not only marked the death of my sister, but the death of me as the person I had become thus far in life. As the years have unfolded I’ve realized how many times I’ve died, how many old layers and stories I’ve shed. But as with any death, both physical and metaphorical – comes birth. It’s funny how much we don’t realize or focus on that. With every loss of a person, relationship, home or possession comes new opportunity – assuming we’re willing to see it. We spend so much time looking back at that closed door trying to figure out how we could’ve left it open, that we blind ourselves from seeing the beauty that lies ahead.

There are times I’ve wondered – had she not died, would I have still found my passion? Would I be transitioning out of the corporate world to focus on revolutionizing and bringing awareness to a new paradigm around mental and emotional health? Would I have learned the same valuable lessons personally so I could connect and teach others? Would I have realized that it has little to do with labels and more to do with the underlying components, the ones we’ve all suppressed and forced ourselves to bury and forget? Lets be honest, I’ve always been good at expanding and pushing the limits, but would I have done it in a way that caused more pain and disruption, instead of healing and liberation? Would I have started a blog? One that began with my own story and  shifted into the love of telling others real and raw stories? Ones not only of trauma and heartache, but of love and healing? Perhaps we’re all still going where we were originally headed, but her decision, one that left a ripple – shifted my course to this path. A path that has pushed me to the depths of some very dark valleys, and pushed me even harder up the mountains. I don’t want this to be my only story – her death was the start of my story, and one I hope overflows to many others stories. Your greatest strengths really do lie in your deepest pain. Those are the very wounds that are there for a reason you have yet to discover, the ones that will not only break you down – but to break you open. Those are the turning points in your life that are pushing to you to new depths. It isn’t about allowing this to be your only story, it’s about pushing yourself to a new one. It isn’t about going with the norm, it’s about reinventing the norm. And it isn’t about her death as much as it is the life that can be birthed from it. The realization that in a world that often feels hopeless, there is still plenty of it. And that starts with us – that starts with the death of old stories and the pain we’ve held so tightly too, and allowing ourselves to rise from it. Its about being true to ourselves, instead of attaching ourselves to others. This blog began with telling my own story, but has blossomed into the realization that we all have one to tell. It has made me realize it isn’t things or surface conversations that connect us, its real life pain and emotion that help us realize, we aren’t that different from each other. To realize we all have something to offer, because noone has the same story, with the same perspective and emotion as yours has held.

So I leave you with this – if you had to think of all the stories you had to tell, what one do you want people to know? Will you tell the one people see from the outside just to please their pallet? Or will you tell them the one that sits deep in your soul? Will you show up in the world in the way it wants you too, or will you show up in a way that offers a deeper truth? Are you allowing old stories to play on rerun, numbing what lays beneath the surface? I have many stories to tell over my life, and especially the past 10 years – all bits and pieces of me, but none of which own me. The story I want to tell 10 years later isn’t the same – in fact its message is very different – this time, its one of awareness, hope and liberation. And for that I am grateful. So thank you Josie for the never ending lessons as I navigate through, thank you for the reminder that your death is not for nothing and that all things can be born again if we allow them.

 

Inside Looking Out – Joshua

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“My Name is Joshua Kuhlmann. I am an alcoholic. I am a meth and heroine addict, but only when accompanied by alcohol.” This is how I would’ve identified myself the last time I walked into treatment. I was 39 years old, this was approximately my 9th round of treatment, 2nd round of inpatient. This time I knew it was the last time, I felt it deep within me, I was finally bowing out of this life I became to know and rely on.

For all the thoughts and words that come to mind when we hear words such as “recovering meth or heroine addict” – vulnerable, courageous and inspirational most likely aren’t on the top of many’s list. When actually, those are the words that are deserved for anyone who has succumbed to any type of an addiction, and especially the wrath of harsh substances such as these. To not be able to see your life beyond your next sip or hit, to have your mind so overtaken by something that literally owns and destroys you, as well as every facet of your body and life, is something many more know then society cares to recognize. This is not always what it may seem from the outside looking in, it’s far deeper then that. It’s a world of it’s own that only exists to those caught in it’s darkness – it’s mental illness in another realm – masked by and numbed by a substance. To hear someone’s countless stories of being at the bottom of this barrel for years on end, only to see them a year later, an entirely different and new being – watching them rebuild their life literally one minute, hour or day at a time is quite amazing. To beat the mindset of knowing that at any minute they could go back to any of it with a simple phone call – is inspirational!

Thank you Josh, for not only sharing your story, but teaching and reminding me what the meaning of truly being one’s self looks like. To be forced to function in every single area of your life with total and complete surrender, vulnerability and sobriety is not a task many care to attempt. To be back in the work force, raising children, building and starting new relationships, a home and most importantly rebuilding yourself! Everyone “lives their life”, many never walking down the path of addiction, but few live their lives consciously, always looking to improve themselves, being open and adaptable to change and giving gratitude for the simplest of things the rest of us take for granted. And that is just a few of the great things we can learn from you and all those who have walked this with you. You have so much to be proud of and so much more to look forward too on this new and exciting, while also challenging-in-it’s-own-way journey.

Here is Josh’s story, which will be followed by another entry from his sister, Jodell, who will give us a glimpse of what it was like to stand on the other side, from the outside looking in.

At what age did it begin and were there any underlying reason? What substance did you start with?

It began when I was in elementary school, when my dad passed me a beer to take a swig. There was this feeling of acceptance I got, being “one of the guys”. It was a rush, a relief, as if I was on top of the world, all my problems washed away in that one sip. It was the social norm for my parents to host card parties and sit around and drink, especially in a small town. This was the normal setting I was exposed too, so it didn’t seem foreign to me. From that point forward it slowly, but consistently grew – it planted a seed of acceptance that I didn’t realize would snowball into something far bigger.

Let me just give you a bit of a timeline of what this life looked like. I rang in my 13th birthday smoking weed for the first time, which then led to regular use. At 14 I got what was the first of many minor consumptions. Age 16, my senior year, brought with it my first round of outpatient treatment. Although the drinking didn’t slow, I wanted to be able to participate in football, and this was mandatory in order for me to do so.

I graduated at 17, this just gave me even more time during the day to indulge in partying, with that came regular use of cocaine. I had a great job, I was making good money removing asbestos from homes. At 19 I buy a house, drinking copious amounts of vodka, while feeling daily rushes of regular cocaine use. I can average 2-3 days before crashing. A majority of this great income is spent on sipping, chugging and snorting. One of what will be four DUI’s follows shortly after, along with 3 friends committing suicide. This scares me, but I’m still feeling as if I need these outlets in order to be “social” because my anxiety is so intense. Age 20, I lose my job because I’m not able to function and make it there regularly, but not a huge deal, besides, I’m making enough money dealing. I’m feeling really good about myself, people look up to me and respect me and it fills another void. The reality of my friends deaths start to settle a little too close to home, so I move to distance myself from this, with the hope of going to college and playing football to get my life back on track. This instead turns into more hook ups and even better money selling coke! It’s funny how you say you’ll “never” until you’re standing there doing that “never”. I swore I would never shoot up, but somehow find myself doing just that. This is what my life from age 20-30 consisted of – partying day and night, selling coke, having sex with multiple women – living the high life.

Roughly at the age of 30 I OD’d (for the 1st time) off percocet and oxy, followed by a 3 day coma. I wake up pissed, wanting out, and begging my mom for money to go get another liter. I fractured my spine from having alcohol withdrawal seizures. The realization of this injury from having seizures from withdrawals, is a bit of a scare. So, I decide another round of inpatient treatment is necessary. That followed a half way house, with 60 days of sobriety, only to get kicked out of 2 more half way houses. Another overdose – this time on heroine. I end up enrolling to college, which lands me a $5000 check to live off of and supply my needs. At one point I end up in the Anoka County Courthouse bathroom drinking rubbing alcohol to keep the shakes at bay, with nowhere to go and no clue what my next move will be. This leads me back to parents again. Although I’m working, I meet who becomes my long time girlfriend, who just happens to be a bartender. This works out well considering she supplies my booze stash. She enables me even more, always paying the bills, which allows me to carry on with my lifestyle while she works, in turn I’m caring for her daughter. This works out great, I’m home more at least, out less partying, but still feeding off the toxicity that has always resided between us.

When I’m 32 I’m in the beginning stages of liver failure, noticeably jaundice, with extreme pain. This leads to a week of sobriety after being hospitalized, but corrected itself, only to have repeated itself. This is a realization that the half gallon of vodka is no longer feasible, so I pick up meth, besides it’s a great diet regimen! 😉 After awhile I’m going through an 8 ball of meth at a time just to keep me going. 3-4 years of meth, followed by heroine for a change of pace. It’s like a version of a doctors prescription to alternate between Tylenol and Ibuprofen, except I’m alternating meth and heroine. I wasn’t biased towards one or the other – unlike others – I had friends on both sides of the track. For those few years, I never intentionally slept. I mean I slept, but I never thought “I should go to bed” or “it’s bedtime”. I crashed wherever, whenever, but it was only at that point that I got rest.

At this point I can’t see the light of day, nor do I have alot of motivation to do so, this is just simply my life day in and day out. I am a master manipulator using and abusing anything and anyone that gets me from one hit to the next. While it feels good to feel good, being admired by so many, what I don’t realize, is, I’m being manipulated, used and abused by all around me just as much. So, here I am, feeling on top of the world, only having occasional rising fears of being without my safety nets.

Addiction of choice and why – explain the highs and the crashes – what did it feel like physically, mentally and emotionally.

Alcohol was always a factor, it was the first thing I did each morning and the last thing I did each night. Within a few hours of waking I had the shakes, looking for my next swig of booze – preferably vodka. The drugs weren’t near as important to me as the vodka. Drug of choice would be ecstasy, but isn’t something I did alot of because it was tough to keep the high for extended periods. The booze was my coping mechanism, while the drugs made me feel 10 feet tall and bulletproof, adding to my confidence. As my roommate says heroine was “a warm blanket of amazingness”. You could be getting your head bashed in with a club and think everything was good! But when the vodka was dry – it was instant panic, I was legit scared to think of not having any. I never did the drugs without the booze, to do it sober was actually scary to me. Straight up, uncontrollable anxiety.

How do you think this affected those around you? At the time, did you think there was any ripple effect to your family?

Nope, not at all. I thought I appeared to ‘have it all together’ and someone to be looked up too, and honestly, I was – in that world. Outside of ‘that world’, it was total denial when it was brought up to me, I didn’t think it was anything I couldn’t control.

Turning point in your life – the last straw – the one that started your journey to get to this point.

I think subconsciously, I knew when I was 32, when the realization that the onset of liver failure had begun. That scared me, but instead, I buried myself deeper. Fast forward to 2015, I have 2 warrants out for my arrest due to drug sales after being caught with a wire. After ins and out of what I hope would be a pass back out the door after lack of evidence, my lawyer informs me another county has additional sale charges on me. But, even then, I’m feeding myself lies to keep myself sane. This is the realization that my avenues of escape are looking thinner by the minute and I should probably start prepping myself for a long haul of sobriety, whether prison or long term treatment, I wasn’t getting out this time. I actually tinkered with the thought of taking the 120 months in prison over the option of mandated inpatient for a year.

The real, official turning point is when I’m sitting in the wreck room in jail – I come across the Holy Spirit Handbook. This changes everything. This is literally my “coming to Jesus moment” in a way I’ve never experienced before. There’s this feeling of total and complete peace, calmness and serenity that flows over and through me. And this time, I don’t have an ounce of any substance in me. For the first time in my life, I know I’m going to be OK, and I’m actually excited about being admitted to MN Adult and Teen Challenge. This is the start of a new life I didn’t know was possible, or perhaps wasn’t willing or ready to embrace all those years. It was better then any high I had ever experienced, it was the most peace and comfort I had felt my entire life.

What are some of the biggest challenges you’ve encountered since being sober?

I would have to say keeping my anxiety in check, although nowhere near what it used to be, it still arises, especially in a social setting. Learning to be aware of it and trying to find coping mechanisms to offset it is a work in progress. Another thing that I’ve been trying harder to work on, is learning to focus attention back on myself, doing the inner work required to heal. It’s always been a mindset of blame, pointing the finger outside of me, that I’ve never taken responsibility for my actions. Now I’m trying to learn how to balance things, patience with my kids and family, but especially with myself. Learning how to co-parent while also setting boundaries, recognizing manipulation, being open to feedback without defaulting to blame and just establishing myself. To try and retrain my brain to remember things and be aware without going back into default mode. I started so young, I don’t know that I was ever able to establish myself and my own true identity. I guess that’s the beauty in rebuilding.

What do you think are the biggest problems that come with the stigmas of addiction? What are some missing factors you feel are being overlooked when addressing these issues and the judgement that comes with them, especially in younger kids?

The lack of understanding coming from all angles, especially at home. I told my dad once about my anxiety, (although I didn’t know that’s what it was at the time), the response was along the lines of “deal with it, don’t be a pussy”. But the older generations didn’t discuss their problems, so maybe he didn’t know any other way to respond without thinking something was wrong with me.

I was sitting in jail after my second DUI, flipping through a magazine when I came across a Paxil ad. As I was reading the side effects such as racing thoughts, shortness of breath, restlessness, irritability, or difficulty in public places – I came to the realization that this was me! I am that blue pill – more like I need that blue pill! To realize that other people had these same symptoms was amazing to me, because I thought it was just me! I was so excited about the fact that this pill could help me that I went up and asked the desk clerk to give me some, not realizing it wasn’t that easy.

Another thing people don’t realize, is this isn’t just one set of people or only people of a certain social status engage in substance abuse. I used with plenty of people that came from higher social statuses, kids of doctors and other respectable careers. The stigma that only people that come from crap households or poverty level use substances to cope, couldn’t be farther from the truth! And yet we were viewed as the “scum” or “losers”.

Sometimes I wonder if I had known or learned to cope better with my anxiety if I wouldn’t have went to other substances to rid myself of these feelings that in fact were normal to many. Sometimes I think my parents should have just left me sit in jail the first few times I was in, maybe it would’ve changed my mindset. Instead it just enabled and reinforced my behavior, knowing they’d come to my rescue when I got caught again. But, I guess it’s hard to say for sure, either way, this was how it unraveled for me.

Has it changed your path or purpose in life since? Do you feel you endured it for a reason and are meant to do something with it?

Absolutely. I’ve lived my life unknowingly being so selfish, only worrying about myself, but now I know it has nothing to do with me. I realize it was all fake and false before, even looking back – there were so many odd things that happened that lined up in my favor – that redirected me. My life resides in Christ, which in turn out flows into everyone around me. The fact that I’m alive is evidence in itself of what my life purpose is. No one endures what I did and almost dies that many times for nothing. It’s all part of a bigger plan.

There is no denying that overall substance abuse, especially in meth and heroine are on the rise – what do you think are significant contributing factors to this problem?

Prescription pills are a big factor. Although this wasn’t a direct reflection in my case, I do hear of prescription pills being a sought out source, it seems common within the treatment world. They’re fairly easy to get a hold of. As far as the rest, I don’t know if there’s a certain “go-to” I think it depends on preference or whatever is available.

What and who do you see yourself as now? How would you identify yourself?

I am Joshua Kuhlmann, I am a child of God, saved by Jesus Christ. I know what the highest of highs feels like, along with the lowest of lows – simultaneously – from trying to catch a buzz in a courthouse bathroom to sitting in a jail cell reading the Lord’s word. I have done alot of shit, seen alot of shit – but I am truly grateful for every part of my journey. Because I know what it’s like to stand on that side, and I look forward to spending the remainder of my life standing on this side, helping others in their journey of recovery!

Despite where we’re at in life, we can all use additional support, visit www.crisisaverted.org for a complimentary phone call to learn more!

For more entries regarding personal stories surrounding addiction, check out Ron’s story.

*If you or someone you know is in need of help, here a general site/line to start with to better direct you of resources within your area drugabuse.gov https://www.samhsa.gov/find-help *

*If any of this resonates with you, or you know of someone it may help who is personally struggling or has family that is, please feel free to share on social media to bring forth awareness and hope, while breaking down stigma around this subject!*

Santa Monica

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“Her mind’s made up
The girl is gone
And now I’m forced to see
I think I’m on my way
Oh, it hurts to live today
Oh and she says “Don’t you wish you were dead like me?”

And I remember the day when you left for Santa Monica
You left me to remain with all your excuses for everything
And I remember the time when you left for Santa Monica
And I remember the day you told me it’s over”

This was the last song I listened too exactly 9 years to the day with you. Although those lyrics mean something different since then, the feeling that arises when hearing them is still there. I had just put Gabby – 2 1/2 and sick at the time – to bed, waiting for Nathan to get home, you and I were chatting about wedding stuff. I had mentioned perhaps  meeting with Sarah to do wedding invites, I knew you wanted to do them, but she’s great at this stuff and thought maybe you could learn some things from her?! I remember feeling half guilty, half defensive by the look on your face that said “of course I wouldn’t do it good enough or the way you wanted”. It was that look, followed by a weak “sure”. I remember talking about all of these wedding things as you half ignored me, never looking at me – always facing the computer. I often wonder how you didn’t turn around and tell me to shut the fuck up – you didn’t care – because you weren’t going to there. I often wonder how you didn’t say many things to me – instead, always playing the part, keeping your mouth shut, trying to pretend to be happy for me – even though I knew you were pissed about the whole thing. Once I realized you were less then impressed with this choice of topic I said “oh Jos – you gotta listen to this song – you’re gonna love it – Santa Monica by Theory of a Deadman! I asked you what you thought and got a monotone “yeah – I like it.”

I’ve replayed in my head a million times us standing outside smoking – while freezing our asses off – we got laughing about I don’t  even know what. I vividly remember thinking – but never actually saying “you look so good, you’ve lost weight – you seem happy Jos!” Maybe I just wanted to enjoy that contagious laugh a little longer, so I didn’t say it – just like you didn’t say anything to me, so we carried on. When we came back in the house I told you I was sorry, you could finish what you needed too, but I needed to go to bed. I needed sleep – pffff – fuck – let’s be real – I always needed sleep! You acted bummed, with a brief hesitation – I took note of it, but was defensive and proceeded to bed. As I laid there – I remember feeling bad, but more so as if something seemed off – but too tired to bother inquiring. Instead, I heard you shut down the computer and walk across the kitchen floor for what would be the last time. I heard the door close and I fell asleep. And that was it. That was the last time I would see your face, the last time I would hear your laugh, the last time I would smoke a Marlboro with you, the last time I would have a discussion with you – it was the last of so many things that would taint me for so long.

For months and months afterwards, I would talk to you on my way into work as if you were in the passenger seat beside me. I would try and alter the reality of it – as crazy as that sounds – I just always felt like I needed those one-way conversations – that were far from conversations because I couldn’t quit crying long enough to actually finish a sentence. To this day whenever I feel you, I feel you on my right side – steady, solid, always quiet and always on my right.

At some point in all of our lives we have a massive shifting point, it shows up in many different ways, but it shakes us to the core. For those that don’t know what this feels like, you will in time, for it’s inevitable in the human experience. It isn’t a week long ordeal either – it’s a forever long ordeal. For as much as this blog has done for me, in regards to healing at a much more rapid rate on many levels – the replay of that night – the feelings that arise with that song – the longing to hear that laugh or see that smile will forever be imprinted when this week arises – year after year – despite the time in between.

How can something feel like yesterday and eternity all at once? There are times I feel as though I’ve lost the details as time has passed. There are parts of me that are thankful for that, for it doesn’t consume me like before – proving I’ve been able to let go and move forward, but there are also days – like today – when I wish I could remember every detail of your face, of your words, of your every breath. Here’s to 9 years – 9 down – plenty to go – but still looking forward to the day I see that face again.

Autopilot

skyraysoflight9-16We’ve all experienced those moments of life altering, earth shattering pain. The one that forces you into your body, to awaken you from a state of cruise control. It comes in many different forms, at different points in our lives, all on a different scale, having a different effect but it is one that refuses to be anything but felt. At 16, it’s the break up with your first boyfriend, perhaps later a divorce. For a firefighter it’s going to a call only to be forced to watch a family watch their home be devoured by flames, to the EMT it’s responding to a fatal accident. To a soldier it’s pulling the trigger for the first time on another life, or perhaps watching one of his own men being taken by another. It’s the phone call of an unexpected death, the diagnosis of a disease, watching another’s life end before your eyes. It’s watching a child go hungry, die from lack of vaccinations or a fatal disease. It’s losing a job, the function of a body part, or the aftermath of a natural disaster. All of which demand the attention of the human emotions, as if jolted into the current reality, one where time literally seems to stop. The cruise control has been halted, from 60 to 0.

It is that slow drip of water in a pond, watching the ripples flow outward, affecting the mass, but the intensity remains within that first initial drop. A whirlwind of grief and questions, standing there looking at your life from a floor of shattered glass, unsure if it’s even your life you’re viewing. This ‘autopilot’ phase is one that jolts many, but often doesn’t truly affect, on a grander scale, those outward ripples. But, for those moments that the ripple does affect the mass, we reevaluate where we stand in life, how very small we are compared to the rest of this vast universe. We think about our days and how they’ve been spent, acknowledging that we’re truly blessed and fortunate to not have been directly effected by such tragedy. Instead, we make promises to rid our lives of excess baggage that doesn’t serve our evolution, and thank God for all he’s generously provided.
Often times, when we stand in this space, we realize how much of our life has been run on autopilot. How much we missed while going through the motions, only to realize it’s no longer an option to fix or mend, but to let flow through you, realizing the grip you have on this moment is nothing at all. The vulnerability of feeling on a deeper level, tears that won’t stop, anger that fuels, questions that may remain unanswered. It’s a space that for anyone that has ever felt it, never wants to be forced to feel it again, it instills a fear that we want to distance ourselves from as fast as possible. It’s one that never leaves, instead, only lies dormant. Only to return at the time of another reminder that autopilot is the exact place we aren’t meant to be. It’s during these times that we’re forced to reevaluate and question our very existence. Watching another endure such pain, knowing there’s no amount of words, cards or gifts that will replace what they have been or will be forced to feel and endure. It is in these moments, we make temporary promises as we mourn and truly do feel for those directly effected. We swear this is our eye opener, that we’ll become more focused on the things that make us truly happy, instead of the stress of daily life we’ve allowed to weigh us down. Instead of complaining, we’ll be more grateful, instead of fighting, we’ll be more compassionate, instead of blaming, we’ll be more empathetic of another’s viewpoint, instead of being devoured by guilt, we’ll let go of those we’ve allowed to pull us down. Because in these moments we see from a very different perspective, we see how precious and short our time here is, whether that’s 20 years or 80, it goes in a flash nonetheless. But just as quickly as it came, it often leaves. Because for those that aren’t directly affected, life goes on, and autopilot is what we so effortlessly fall back into. Getting wrapped up in our everyday lives of seemingly trials and tribulations, forgetting to pay attention, to feel or wake up from this deep sleep. Until the next ripple hits, reminding us once again that we’re human. These are the moments that are meant to break us, shake us and make us realize that this is our focus, this is a glimpse of what we’re here for, this is when autopilot is off, when we’re planted in our own bodies, grounded and reminded our days are far too short to be spent doing absolutely anything except what brings us joy. And the falsehood that we’ve been fed while on autopilot that this isn’t our truth, is the reason we’re forced to be redirected into what is.

*If this resonates with you, feel free to share on social media**

Apples to oranges

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APPLE TO ORANGES

“Whatever happens to you, belongs to you. Make it yours. Feed it to yourself, even if it feels impossible to swallow. Let it nurture you, because it will. “ – Cheryl Strayed

There were many years I truly believed it was impossible to take any more blows. I was sure that there was no humanly way possible to survive them if I was forced to take another hit. I thought I was the only one that endured that kind of tragedy and pain to the extent I did and within the short amount of time that I did. In the same breath I’d find myself looking around and thinking ‘don’t complain, it can always be worse, you have so much to be grateful for.’ But I was wrong – about most of it.

Maybe by constantly feeling as if I had to bury it, that I wasn’t ‘allowed’ to complain, vent or cry about it – I was only making it worse. Maybe feeling like my circumstances were less then so many others or that I didn’t have the right to feel and think the way I did, only prolonged my healing further. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I had alot of safe havens and wonderfully supportive people in my life (God only knows they listened to me like a broken record of the Titanic song replaying over and oveeeeer!!  Even though I had those outlets I was still always thinking I didn’t have the right to feel bad, sad or mad about certain parts of it. And more importantly I think the focus of those venting sessions were being placed on things and people that, at the time I thought were the issues. Primarily because I couldn’t say what I was actually thinking, or perhaps I just didn’t allow myself to go there mentally. It was as if the only emotion tied to her was sadness and the only one tied to him was anger. I couldn’t be mad at her or sad over him because it wasn’t her fault she felt that way and I couldn’t cry about someone who I was supposed to be happy I was rid of. It’s as if it’s ingrained in us to always remember ‘it could be worse’ or ‘at least you aren’t them!’ So, while I had outlets, I was always playing this game with myself that I needed to quit, needed to get over it, needed to stop thinking or feeling certain things as they arose. So, instead I’d go back to my default emotion and cry or rage depending on which one it pertain too 

There’s this constant comparison in our world that we always need to shut up and just be thankful. While gratitude is important, burning our stories and emotions surrounding them, only further suppresses what is already there. We have every right to endure them in whatever manner we need too in order to work through them. It’s as if we can better justify what’s going on in our life at the time by doing things such as self talk like ‘get over it’ or ‘just be grateful’. Maybe that’s why we endure those relationships for far longer then we ever should’ve allowed, wallow in guilt or pity towards others, staying bound to their ways, or stay in our own hellhole of a prison, induced by depression and self hate for years beyond what was needed. Maybe by just owning it and feeling every terrible aspect of it, we’d be able to move through it faster.

Now, 8 years after her death and 7 post separation, I’ve had to relive every dirty and sickening detail of both. And each time they’ve resurfaced, they’ve come back at a greater intensity because of it. So, maybe you should scream into your pillow when you need too, cry in the middle of the store because you thought for a split second you seen a glimpse of them, laugh because that song that just came on triggered a memory. Maybe there isn’t an answer for everything, maybe we need to feel it for what it is because it’s our story. Maybe the constant comparison is doing nothing but driving us all deeper into a state of hell and oblivion. Maybe instead of thinking we’re entitled to all the material things around us, we should realize we’re entitled to our emotions surrounding our circumstances. Maybe then there’d be less holes in the walls or terrible things said and done, maybe there’d be less depressive states, less cheating, less hate and anger. Maybe if we’d just allow ourselves to act or react at the time that the actual emotion occurs instead of telling ourselves how ridiculous we’ll look crying for no reason, or screaming in our car at a red light is taboo, the only ones we’re hurting is ourselves.

Healing comes from within, and it comes from no one but ourselves. Maybe when we just being a little truer to our emotions as they arise, truer to our journey and hardships as they cross our paths, maybe we can move forward – for real. It’s OK if you feel like your world is falling apart on account of a break-up, or that you won’t survive if you loose your parent to a disease, or that you can’t possibly face another soul in public after an embarrassing charade at the local saloon or that you’ll be a let down if you lose your job. It’s OK because I know what all of them feel like.

 When you look at the grand scheme of things – it’s terrible right then and there, but then again, it was terrible in 9th grade when the opposite sex turned you down. It was terrible when you rolled your car in your driveway (oh wait, maybe I’m the only one that’s ever done that ahahahaaa) It was terrible to get the rejection letter to your college of choice or first pick job. many have been terrible in your life, and at the time, they needed to be and were warranted for their own reasons, but you survived them too. Maybe the trick to surviving has more to do with being OK that things are shit right then, and less to do with comparing our story to the next persons. Maybe while saying our ‘gratefuls’ we can also curse and cry about the things that aren’t so great. Either way, it’s worth a try to allow yourself to feel every corner of grief, of loss, of the unknown, of being scared shitless, of anger, rage hate, fear, sadness and love all at once! (Yep, there are days it happens just like that – one big ball of ‘holy shit – I’m laughing through my tears while punching my pillow! As different and unique as all of our stories are in so many ways, maybe our reactions behind them aren’t as crazy as they may seem, or not to the extent that we feed ourselves anyways.

Continue reading Blind Faith

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