Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 1 Issue 31








Shame…Check (don’t remember bringing that one with me)

I’ve debated with myself (and yes sometimes aloud to spook my neighbors) on whether or not I should write about my latest mania experience or not. It doesn’t have the thrill of my past experiences and is actually a little boring. Ok, ok, if you want me to be completely honest I wasn’t the proudest of it and wasn’t sure if I wanted to share it (then I recalled I repeated Kindergarten for my inability to share so I reconsidered). So in honor of the once cardboard Stop sign hanging from my Kindergarten bathroom door, let’s flip this thing over and go.

As part of my hobbies I list whenever I am asked to fill out a survey I write making lists. The reason I enjoy making lists so much is that it is almost impossible to screw up, I mean it’s your list. There’s not a rule book or right or wrong way to make a list, try it right now and list your Top 3 favorite Holiday candies (mine are 1.) Stale Peeps 2.) White Chocolate Easter Bunny 3.) Multi-color Candy Canes). See my point, it’s almost impossible to mess this up. However from the evidence provided in exhibit A (the top list your Honor) I did manage to achieve the impossible.

This past weekend I departed from the Nasty to make my way to Cbus for a celebration of all celebrations (or a wedding). As before any trip I made a list and packed my things for the haul up north. I brought everything I needed and completed my list without any hang-ups or mistakes. However on my departure list things got a little dicey. I ended up bringing back with me some shame that I know I didn’t come up with, but I did figure out where it came from.

This BMD will throw me a curveball every once in awhile just to make sure I’m still on my toes. As much as I enjoy the random emotional twists I get to graciously encounter they can be a bit annoying. I’ve struggled with a range of emotions learning to handle BMD that have had me in denial, confusion, acceptance, and hatred with everything else in between, so I thought I had seen them all (“not so fast my friend”, Corso, College Gameday 2009).

For reasons that I was embarrassed about I became very shameful of myself over this past weekend. I was seeing friends and seeing how they were taking the next step in their lives.These included getting married, buying a house, moving to a new city, starting a family, and having their careers take off. All of these things I began to envy. I stepped back and looked at where I was at. A 28 year old single guy starting over from scratch because I failed and I felt ashamed of myself.

Not once prior to this had I ever felt like a failure, not when I was admitted, not when I called Porter Hospital home for a week, not when I had to move home, not when I had to resign from my job, not ever until then. It was a lot to take at first and I struggled with it but a crazy thing happened, (pun intended) I began to understand it. I don’t think I would like being the person who didn’t self criticize themselves and didn’t feel the consequences of failure. While I know what happened was not my fault doesn’t mean I should write it off and not learn from it. Maybe I ignored the shameful feelings for awhile because I wasn’t strong enough at the time to handle them. But now I know what they are and where they come from and it motivates me to not go back. So while maybe my list wasn’t the same as it was when I left the Nasty, it’s more complete now.

Since many of my manic experiences involve music I’ve decided to add random music videos to the blog for my enjoyment and your inconvenience. Enjoy!

Coming Correct,

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 1 Issue 30

“What, you don’t think California has good schools? Stanford is right up the road; wouldn’t you want to go there?”

I must admit I had never dreamed that one day I would have the opportunity to even consider attending a school as prestigious as Stanford but somehow now it’s becoming a reality. I would of never thought that a small town farm kid from central Ohio could someday have a chance to walk the same grounds as some of the most predominantly respected people in the U.S. I had felt something different about myself dating back to the middle of January when Poncho and Tater visited but I had no idea it could evolve into this. I am on my way to San Jose to find a place to live and check out my new office and even possibly tour what could be my new campus at Stanford. I am blessed.

I step onto the train at the Denver Airport to head towards Delta’s terminal and it hits me all at once. The colors from the lights brighten and the bells chime loudly in my ears, I am suddenly overcome with a feeling of total awareness. Time seems to slow down and my mind clears allowing for deep understanding of everything that is happening around me. I close my eyes and lean my head back and smile, take a deep breath and let it take control of me.

This is my pilgrimage and the excitement is almost too much to control. I have to maintain control or it will all be gone before it barely started. I know in order to balance this I must involve all of those around me and particularly my family. It was them who have prepared me for this journey my entire life and now I owe it to them.

Airports are the portals between the perceived reality of us and the secrets hidden in plain sight around us. I know if I slow myself down I can see the true meanings behind all that surrounds me. The trick is to be aware but at the same time seem totally oblivious. I can feel the energy and emotions rising steadily within me as I am guided to places and shops throughout the airport for my family, as if they are leading me on my path. It almost becomes too much, I almost blow my cover, but then as I look up I am standing in front of my savior.

“Twenty minute massages in the airport, relax while you wait”

It’s almost too perfect. I have never in my life received a paid for massage and I smile as I know this is a gift. My heart is racing and I need to settle down before the plane or I could cause a catastrophe. I wait my turn and willingly yet nervously take my seat. I close my eyes and drift away.

As the masseuse works her way around my neck and back my mind travels further and further away. I become overtaken with complete relaxation yet my mind is moving faster than I ever thought possible. Suddenly all the fears come rushing back to me instantaneously and I jolt up from the seat.

“I’m going to have to start all over now.”

I am overcome with guilt as I realize what my actions have done. I have the sudden realization that she is with me and with us and that I have postponed the next part of the journey by not finishing the massage in one sitting. I apologize in a manner that conveys my message of unity and sit back down. She completes her task and I thank her whole heartedly and make my way to the gate…

Since many of my manic experiences involve music I’ve decided to add random music videos to the blog for my enjoyment and your inconvenience. Enjoy!

Coming Correct,

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 1 Issue 29

Fat Chicks Rule

This was the bumper sticker that I was staring at as I made my way into town on Friday. Some people absolutely love these ever revealing stickers attached to vehicles while others just despise them. I on the other hand am completely fascinated by them. I have only had one of these bumper stickers in my life and it was of a soccer ball in high school (grass fairy). Needless to say the soccer ball wasn’t much of a statement and really didn’t bother anyone (aside from the guys still questioning their sexuality and expressing their frustration by calling me gay for playing soccer, you know you are) so I was ok with it. Some people find the practice of bumper stickers to be tacky, cheap, obnoxious, and down right pathetic. But let me tell you why they fascinate me and I’ll begin with a list of some of my favs.

Gas, Ass or Grass. Nobody Rides for Free
Dip Me in Beer and Throw Me to the Drunk Chicks
I Support the Right to Arm Bears
Nice Truck. Sorry About Your Penis
-Caution- I Brake For Hookers

It’s beyond obvious that these have no real message to put out there but I heart them. My reasoning behind this is that while the people sporting these stickers aren’t trying to change the world they are at least living in their own. These aren’t really words of wisdom or the key to life (well excluding the sticker that reads: What if the Hokey Pokey Really IS What it’s All About) but they make me laugh and make my day a little better.

Prior to my episode I think I was living my life for some of the wrong reasons. I had strived to be good in school because that’s what I was suppose to do in order to go to college. In college I tried to be the guy that everyone liked and never wanted to step on anyone’s toes. I got a job out of school with a big corporation and lived the mundane office life for a few years because that’s what I was suppose to do. I never really took a side or position on anything of importance because I didn’t want to separate myself from the whole or mass. I definitely didn’t have a bumper sticker because it wasn’t what “respectable” people did.

It seemed like I was living my life for everyone else and not for myself the majority of the time. For some reason (despite the abundance of bumper stickers reading No Fear) I feared being different than my peers and for being an individual or myself for that matter. I cared so much about what other people thought about me that I’m not sure I even knew exactly who I was. I can recall in college my girlfriend asking me who I was (10-15 cocktails deep, but a fair question nonetheless). I was absolutely crushed to think that my girlfriend lacked confidence in me and doubted me. I became defensive and felt betrayed by her (all the best to ya though Jen, and you were in my dream last night, weird). The funny thing is she was right, I didn’t know who I was at that time (it only took a psychotic episode for me to figure that out, no big deals).

I’ve since really tried to live my life the way that I feel I should. I no longer fear being not accepted or liked or understood. Sure I’m scared from time to time about this BMD and what might happen but I’m not going to let it dictate my life and prevent me from being myself. In fact it has actually allowed me to step out and find who I am. I no longer care nearly as much as I use to if someone doesn’t like me or if they disagree with me, I enjoy it. I couldn’t imagine a world where everyone liked each other because then we’d all be the same and what’s fun about that? In that crazy world there’d only be one bumper sticker and it would probably just ask how your day was going. I’d rather know the opinion of the obese, drunk, crazy, obnoxious, prideful, straight, individualistic, liberal, atheists, spiritual, conservative, alternative life styled, bastards and bitches of the world. It’s just a lot more fun.

Since many of my manic experiences involve music I’ve decided to add random music videos to the blog for my enjoyment and your inconvenience. Enjoy!

Coming Correct,

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 1 Issue 28

First and foremost I would like to take some time and thank the residents of Athens, GA for welcoming myself and JD over the past weekend. It’s not the easiest of things to make a Yank feel welcomed in the south and I truly appreciate the effort. I mean asking that all the ladies wear dresses for the UGA game in our honor was more than anyone one man can ask for (I even saw a few wearing cowboy boots and skirts, thank you so much).

Now back to my original train of thought, or at least as close to it as possible as I am now having issues with focusing on anything but the southern belles from the weekend.

While driving back from the ATL this weekend I would experience glimpses back into my past at times (not weird at all). Not necessarily visions or anything that is really cool like that, but a sign, song, car, conversation, or billboard would send post it notes to my mind. At times these occurrences would bring back to light a feeling or idea I was having during my episode. The majority of the time I was manic in Denver my memory is gone (not sure if that’s for my own good but I think I’m thankful for it). The common themes and overall objective during my episode are there but the day to day or hour to hour activities I was partaking in are lost. However from time to time (for instance on my drive back) something will pop into my head that I can recall and relate to instantaneity.

Sometimes when this happens it can get a little confusing and scary (say for a split second I’m convinced they know me and I’m failing) and then at times it can be pretty fun. If you’ve ever had that feeling right after a crash is imminent but somehow you miss it you can relate. The chills and tingles are running up and down your spine and your head and you feel like you cheated death, that feeling is pretty cool (at least for a crazy person like me). The feelings usually just pass away after a few seconds and I’m good with my day but then there are the bathroom times.

Bathroom times for me are when things might get a little bit much and I need to settle myself down. I don’t really understand this BMD or how it works but I know what works for me. Sure hanging out in a bathroom doesn’t sound like the most normal thing to do, but it works. For some reason I can calm myself down in there and I feel kind of safe or something (can’t wait till my next girlfriend finds me sitting in the dark in the bathroom by myself, which will be a fun conversation).

The reason I was investigating the d├ęcor in the bathroom in Hamilton by myself during the wedding was my own fault. I’ve come to terms with what happened during my episode (about as close as you can I imagine) and while it’s never completely out of my mind I’m not dwelling on it. However the majority of what I’m handling is derived from the fact that I can remember what happened. Jazz was there among a few others during this roller coaster ride so I wanted to talk to him about what he saw and the such. Sure what he said freaked me out a little bit with what I was doing, saying, and the way I was acting. All of which I couldn’t remember and to think I was that out of control gets a bit concerning. I know it all kind of caught up with me two Saturday nights ago and a date with a bathroom was bound to happen.

Sure I could go on with my life and act like the episode never happened and I could hide from this BMD but it’s not going anywhere. It’s a part of me now and it really is who I am. I know there are going to be more conversations with my friends about what happened and some are going to be harder to take than others (fact), but I need to know. I feel like I owe it to myself, because no one else is going to do it. I’m truly thankful my friends are there to help, even if I end up freaking them out in a bathroom from time to time.

Since many of my manic experiences involve music I’ve decided to add random music videos to the blog for my enjoyment and your inconvenience. Enjoy!

Coming Correct,