Tag Archives: Therapy

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Back at it… Personal Journal Entries

So I have had this blog spot for well over 10 years. And it’s true that I haven’t been the writer I wished to be. The thing is, I have to really be motivated and passionate about my writing. Not necessarily a bad thing but definitely can add to the lack of words. Not to mention I have been rather active on my YouTube channel podcast. (Click like and subscribe to 4RealThoShow.) Anyhoo, I have the itch at least temporarily with this brilliant idea of mine.

You now how people say you should journal? Well I have started more than a few. I used to fuss over whether it was better to type, or write out the words. And with few exceptions, most of the time when it comes to the doing one way or the other I come up blank. But this time…. I said this time I may be on to something new. It’s not exciting to me when I think of writing on some blank paper or type into a word document thoughts that only I would see. Not to say there isn’t a place for that. But right now, I would like to start journaling again for the umpteenth time with the exception of I will share my thoughts with the world. The reason is simple. For years the bulk of my motivation in life is to leave this world a better place than where it was when I showed up. I find in my podcast people relate to my honestly and vulnerability. I’m that guy that often says things that others just think. There are levels to this and there are even things I wouldn’t say that others do. I find those freeing. With that as this journey begins my hope is that somewhere someplace someone will get some something they need. It can be a laugh, (yes you may laugh with or at me) or something to make you think, perhaps be inspired, encouraged or simply recognize you are not alone. I’m going to keep it 100 with the intentions of not vomiting all over the pages. Hope you enjoy!

For my first journal entry I want to discuss something I have noticed about myself before but never really addressed it thoroughly. When I am tremendously challenged, troubled or depressed, I don’t eat. I mean I go straight hard cold turkey from the moment the dreariness sets in until I come out of the fog. There have been times when I wondered in the back end corners of my mind why I react this way. Well, I think I’ve come up with a few answers as I am in that cycle as I write.

  1. Self Punishment – This goes all the way back to decades and decades of depression, low self-esteem and self worth. Food to me is pleasurable. As a matter of fact, I really enjoy the anticipation of a great meal. It can be a fun ritual especially after a long day/evening at work. I get my little set up together, the meal is hot, the drink is the perfect companion and the combination is fit for the Great Wind Down. That’s what men call exhaling and relaxing. The Great Wind Down also may call for a toasty and tasty cigar again with the perfectly selected drink to accompany it. There I am, munching or puffing away while watching something entertaining on one of the assorted channels. Maybe sports, maybe comedy, maybe a drama. Either way, this process is a big ole A+ when it comes to reward centers in my brain. When I am sufficiently down, I don’t want the reward. I want to suffer. Not to mention the hunger pangs keeps me in remembrance of where I am in the first place. Keeps me mindful, sharp and cautious while observing my surroundings.
  2. Quietness – When I’m in this space my spirit tends to really settle down too. Well that’s after the initial mounds and mounds of anxiety that may or may not keep me up all night. This was the case just two nights ago. As tired as I was I just couldn’t fall asleep. I was surprised at how the next 16 hours went after getting up for work again. Anxiety can both wear you out and keep you up at the same time. It was only my utter fatigue and ganja gummies that assured my rest the next night. After the initial constant barrage of anxiety subsides some and I start to ‘think’ and observe what is going on inside my brain, I start examining why I feel the way I do a bit deeper. I try to decide if my feelings are righteous or reactionarily human. There is good food for thought when it comes to this exercise. I step away from being in the midst of the thing in my head and watch it from the outside. I try to be curious as opposed to critical. Where is my opportunity for growth? Especially since I know that deep inside my feelings of being hurt, feeling betrayed or whatever the case, my reaction is as primal as any wounded creature looking to survive a mortal threat. I’m a grown man, but the securities and protection methods I use were there as long as I can remember. Oh, and another thing… all of this going on is totally private. No one knows that I am not eating. If I am in a situation where it’s impossible to avoid a meal without questions, then I will choose to eat something to keep my inner matters to myself. In this quietness I focus real hard on my mental capacity. And most of all I don’t want to say or do anything to reveal what’s going on to anyone. Also and just as important, I don’t want to act or react out of the pain that I am suffering through. Doing that would just make things way worse. I would rather chill and lay in the cut till I figure out something intelligent and meaningful as a way to respond or move towards a resolution.

I think that’s what I got right now. As I sit here trying to think of more, they ultimately come back to one of the first two reasons. Just more details but pointing to the same picture. Less seen, less heard, more listening and doing what I can to deal with the tensions. May listen to a book, listen to music, (very specific made to the mood music) a podcast or silence. There does seem to be something pure about these moments though. They are truly intentional and shows some discipline.

If the thought crossed your mind and you’re wondering if I ever reach out for help in such situations, the answer is sometimes yes. I can recall feeling some type of way as folk say, and calling several people in my closest circle for comfort, advice or an ear. Several times I couldn’t get ahold of any of them. I always took that as a sign that I am supposed to deal with this challenge alone. So I do. There are some times when things are so bad, that only that one special friend will do – that’s cause he knows me, gets me, accepts me and never judges me. Even in that I am mindful not to pull that emergency card often. Only the worst of the worst. I do not take my friends for granted.

So that’s all I got for now. Feel free to comment if you like – or ask questions. Only positive vibes allowed.

Stay Safe

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Where is Cmac? or a Drastic Change In Direction

Well back to the blogs!  At least this is what I desire as I know I have not written in quite a while.   It’s because I’ve been through quite a lot.

Without getting into all of the gory details I will share some things that perhaps will help someone else.

After months, heck years of struggling greatly with depression and a variety of other mental challenges I had a complete nervous breakdown on Christmas Eve.  I had given up on life and was perfectly willing to leave this world behind.  Some of the problems I had I brought on myself with series of bad decisions and just flat-out wrong thinking.  Other things were put upon me all the way back from childhood. 

During the holiday things came to a head and I ended up spending Christmas in the hospital.  Boy what that an adventure.  I volunteered to go only because they said it would be better for me when it was time to get released.  My family pretty much took things over.  Between my sister who showed up at the door totally by surprise, my mother of all people flew in from Los Angeles via the red-eye the night before and came in right after her, I had no choice though I had totally hit rock bottom.

The experience in the hospital was wierd.  Sometimes I was calm and enjoyed the quiet.  But most of the time I was just reeling, bored and worried about life after the hospital.  The staff was minimal because it was Christmas.  I wanted to get some help since I was there.  But of course there weren’t any doctors and counselors around to treat us.  We were just kept. 

I met some cool peeps there.  Victoria was this sweet lady who wore a hat cause she had lost some hair.  She’ll talk you to death.  I tried to chill to myself most of the time but she was persistant.  One day she just broke out on me.  “Christopher, you are a wonderful man.  God has something special for you to do and your going to do it!”  She was just too sweet.  She tried to buy pizza for everybody on Christmas but Dominos wouldn’t take a check.

Delphine was cool.  A tall black woman who seemed to regulate the entire ward.  She wasn’t forceful but she had this presence about her that said she’s cool people but don’t cross her.  She knew the lowdown and seemed comfortable in the hospital… a little too damn comfortable.  I figured out she was a lesbian because when I told her I was to see Dr. J, (a female psychiatrist) she said to me, “Oh you’ll know her when you see her.  Cause she is the finest white woman you’ll see walking the floor!” 

In the meantime I read Andre Agassi’s book, “Open” and waited for my mother to visit me every evening.  On one occasion  in particular I remember sitting in a room with her alone and crying on her lap like a baby.   I’ll talk more about her later in another post but it was all a part of the bottoming out process.  I had not lived with my mother since I was 14.  Again I’ll explain that later.  The point is, here I was a 42 year old man just brought down to pieces laying in his mommy’s lap in pieces.  But I got nothing but love from her.

After the hospital there was intensive outpatient therapy.  After the first day where I mostly observed, I decided that I wanted to go all in on this therapy stuff.  I wanted to open up and be so honest that it hurt.  I wanted to go places where I was always afraid to go to before.  Places inside that I was afraid to admit even to myself about the way I felt about myself.

I learned some things.  Things like that as much as I wanted to be loved, I was not able to accept or receive the love that was offered to me.  I heard people talk about ‘loving yourself’ and I asked the question, “What the hell does that mean?”  Nobody could answer my question but finally my social worker in group therapy gave me some insight.

Change the word love to ‘accept.’  Once you learn to accept yourself and who you are and what you are, the love will be there.

Finally, I could understand that!

Group therapy was great because I also got to hear about what others were going through and I got to share in their pain, offer support and sometimes advice.  We all did that for one another. 

While I was in therapy I didn’t work at my 9-5.  I only did some basketball games and was mostly able to focus on my healing.  In that time I leaned on my family and the people who really care about me.  Thats one thing that you learn when you bottom out.  You learn who is really down for you and who is not!  Very few people know what I’ve been through or what really happened for the last 30 plus days till this day.  But I learned a lot about the circle of people I kept around me.  I learned what love and acceptance is all about.  I learned what condemnation and guilt was all about too. 

I just went back to work on Monday.  That in itself is a source of stress that I won’t get into. 

But I will say this.  I want to live.  I want to be happy.  I want to live right and reach my full potential.  I want to be ferociously honest and tremendously free.  I want to help and inspire hope and greatness in others. 

With that I have made some decisions that I believe are best for me.  Not all of them were easy.  But I know that now I have been more courageous than I’ve ever been before.  I have also sensed more blessings than I’ve ever experienced too.  I pray and believe that the rest of my days will be better than the former. 

Writing and sharing in this blog is special.  I’ve missed it.  And while ill I couldn’t create and write just as I could not listen to and enjoy music.  (my other love)

But I’m back – I want to be back.  And I want to share in this space.