Category Archives: awareness

Do You Believe in Magick?

“What is to give light must endure burning.”

– Viktor Frankl

I first heard the word “magick” while reading Damien Echols devastating memoir, Life After Death. Echols spent more than 18 years on death row for a crime he did not commit, and his personal journey and soul survival is more than awe inspiring.

You may think “magick” is only “magic” with a “k”. Echols, however, has drawn out the beauty of the word in a new way that warranted the “k” and then some, in fact.

“I have two definitions for the word ‘magick’”, Echols said. “The first is knowing that I can effect change through my own will, even behind these bars; and the other meaning is more experiential – seeing beauty for a moment in the midst of the mundane.”

Echols was able to find a way to not only maintain, but flourish during his 18 years on death row. If someone in those circumstances can manage that type of mentality, then why can’t I? Or you? Or anyone? One must free themselves from all social bondage and let go of all before being able to recognize that ability within.

I’m trying to work on that.

Echols also described “magick” as catching “beauty for a moment in the midst of the mundane.”

To catch a glimpse of beauty when and where it’s not expected is an example of what true “magick” is and can be.

This is to be short purposefully and act only as a reminder that “magick” is here and is real and it’s up for grabs. You just have to let go of all your restraints and step outside your boxes.

As Echols says, “Good things are always coming; sometimes we just forget it.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                         

Caesar Meet Brutus

“If I can’t be my own, I’d feel better dead”

– Alice In Chains, Nutshell

I think I’m losing my mind.

The week started out grand – with my computer crashing at just two months old, my car battery completely crapping out (along with a broken terminal), and a missed freelance deadline.

Hours on the phone with HP and three business days later finally led to my computer resolution. For only having my writing saved on it I question what makes a brand-new laptop crash. I’m not extremely tech savvy, but my suspicions have been raised.

It’s kind of funny how a day can start off one way and then end in a totally different one, isn’t it? It’s our lives. We go through so many changes and come upon so many crossroads that it’s amazing we even have the ability or time to think at all. It’s the sort of thing I happen to be all too familiar with yet really would rather not be. To know the ins and outs of human emotion to this extent isn’t always the greatest of gifts. I’d trade it to be sad any day.

But we still get up every day, doing the same thing over and over. And then we go off, telling ourselves and others whatever lies we must in order not to go completely insane.

It’s a vicious cycle we’re born into. We may not necessarily be born insane; in fact, I feel we’re all born with the pretense to run from insanity. This may be our best natural asset, even when we are having to make up things to run from.

And strangely it somehow works out, albeit usually messily in the end.

I think my favorite part of who I am is attacking itself. My brain is no longer my best friend, and my mind never was. My brain is a traitor. I’m losing track of myself and someone on the inside seems to be enjoying it.

Caesar meet Brutus.

That’s just cryptic immaturity on display, but not completely inaccurate.

The mowing season is in full swing and has been keeping me busy, taking away quite a bit of time from my writing. Which is why I haven’t been here in a few days (along with my many other reasons, of course). It’s hard to prioritize which “projects” to be working on when your time is limited, and I’m trying to be as ambitious as possible without completely losing my head (haha).

But it seems to be to no avail. I’m blinded to the days of the week anymore. I am consciously keeping myself in check because I can’t keep up. It’s Saturday night, but it feels like it’s Tuesday. I don’t know why. This will somehow be my fault, though.

I’m remembering things in fragments and snapshots. Some days I am blessed with the gift of being able to string real thoughts together, other days not so much. Lately, all of my writing has become diaries of fog. I get stranded in the cliché “sea of words”, and if it doesn’t come out sounding like rambling gibberish, it comes out very corny, full of phrases like “sea of words”.

I have written some poetry I’m semi-proud of lately, though. I hate writing poetry, but feel it is a necessary evil. Sometimes the spirit just takes over and I abandon prose for a moment, getting lost in what is more than likely pretentious and semi-fraudulent. There is good poetry, however. I just do not recognize it in my own writing.

I still play my guitar every day, which is a mental exercise built perfectly to my advantage. I only play acoustic guitar anymore and haven’t picked up my bass in longer than I’d like to admit. I don’t know if “music equals life” like the t-shirts say, but without it I’m not sure where my life would be.

I’ve never had my shit together. I’ve just been able to use my illusion to get by. Now, all of that seems to be catching up to me. I don’t have the ability anymore to fake it or pull one over on people by faking it. If this is a dance, I no longer remember the steps and have never been one for dancing anyway.

I seem to be finding more and more ways I am “restrained” in life but continue keeping up the good fight of not staying in any boxes created by the “powers that be”. I am proud of myself for that. Most people who know me say I have no filter, which at times can be true, dangerous, and cruel. However, I am not afraid to stand on my own two legs and say what’s on my mind. It’s been called both my best and worst quality.

I’m going to have to wrap this up because I can see the fog coming in. It’s getting late, anyway. Although I mainly complained, I am proud to have put together a group of cohesive words from a train of broken thoughts. I made it this far and, surprisingly, even I know when to quit.

a day in the life: reflections

“The real man smiles in trouble, gathers from distress, and grows brave by reflection.”

– Thomas Paine

I was recently thinking about my past, reminiscing about friendships that seem like mirages of existence at this point. I decided it was best to use this great “hour of remembrance” in a constructive way and think about where I was five years ago.

Five years ago, I was 27, which was my golden birthday. I was wild then, wild and rearing to go be a part of any type of ignorant activity. I suffer from bipolar disorder if you guys didn’t know and even though I knew it at the time, I still used it to be the life of the party. I was still embarrassed (to an extent) about my condition, and it was easier to just be the wild one.

Five years ago, I worked at a television news station. It was a miserable job, and I would recommend it to no one. I was a digital content producer, which was just a fancy title for someone who wrote up police reports and posted them on Facebook. I’m a “journalist”, and CNN wasn’t calling so I needed to get my foot in the door. I worked at a print news station prior as a copy editor and it was just as miserable (I had interned there and was promised a job as a reporter but was just given a different one).

Five years ago, my middle son was barely one. Life for my wife and I was drastically different. We balanced our schedules and were lucky to have the time we did have. My wife was a correctional officer, and everything worked out perfectly. Our little boy is now almost six.

Five years ago, I asked a woman who has changed my life for the better to marry me. She did the following year, thank God, but the time we spent together that year as an engaged couple can never be changed or taken away.

Five years ago, I was blessed. Just as blessed as I am today. I have always tried to adopt a strict “don’t look back” policy, but it’s hard when looking back is sometimes the key to moving forward.

Mental Illness: An Excuse for Bad Behavior?

“Mental illness does not give you the excuse to act like a jackass.”

– Pete Davidson

The above quote quite sums up the entirety of what this short post will be.

It’s not unheard of. Someone with a mental illness, consciously or not, may believe they’re allowed a free pass at times. This, of course, is false. In no set of circumstances does mental illness allow one to act like a dick.

It’s a total myth that having a mental illness is an excuse for poor or bad behavior. Not that that is out of the realm of possibility, but one cannot stand behind the guise of mental illness to do whatever one wants. Yet, in certain times, we need to remember that the illness is not the person, and those isolating behaviors are part of their condition.

One study found that one-third of people think people with mental illness are ‘making excuses’.

According to an article in The Bridge Chronicle, people use mental illness as “an excuse for irrational behavior…mental illness doesn’t evaporate the consequences of our actions.”

“Mental health does not make problematic behaviors excusable.”

A clear example of this is Kanye West and his continued deterioration in the media. He is allegedly bipolar (I am not sure if there has ever been a clinical diagnosis or not), but up until recently, we have always given Kanye a “pass” when he’s been offensive or completely “off his rocker” (pardon my discriminatory description – Kanye has earned it, though). His “genius” overshadowed any medical or mental health concerns that he was experiencing, and he continued down a destructive, untreated path.

I understand, to some degree, why people may play the “mental illness” card, though. It is sometimes the only way we can get any true recognition of our condition. It’s inexcusable to be manipulative when it comes to “owning” one’s illness, but sometimes it is the only way to express that part of our lives. One can use tact, though, and in a way that’s not so extreme.

There are different ways to go about “expressing” yourself. Taking responsibility for one’s actions and/or reactions is a good place to start. You may end up revealing something about yourself that you don’t want to but taking responsibility for certain behaviors is a good step in the right direction.

Having that kind of accountability can go a long way when having a mental illness. You have to acknowledge the situation before being able to handle it.

Symptoms of an undiagnosed mental illness include:


· Thoughts of harming someone or yourself

· Emotions of sorrow, frustration, fear, concern, or anxiety are recurrent or persistent.

· Regular outbursts of feelings or mood changes

· Uncertainty or mysterious memory lapses

· Delusions or hallucinations

· Intensive fear or anxiety about putting on weight

· Important shifts in eating or sleeping behaviors

· Unknown improvements in success at school or work

· Failure to deal with regular tasks or problems

· Cessation from events or relations in society

· Authority disobedience, delinquency, robbery, or destruction

· Misuse of substances, including alcoholism or illicit drug use

· Mysterious bodily conditions

There have been times when I’ve “gone off” because I’ve slipped, and lashing out seemed to be the most logical response. Hands up-don’t shoot! I, too, have been guilty of this.

If you find yourself lashing out at others, here are a few things you can do:

· If you have a lot of built up anger, speak to someone. A family member, a friend, or your doctor to talk about the things going on in your head.

· Alternatively, if you’re feeling angry, unleash your feelings by calling Samaritans on 116 123, they are there to listen to you.

· If you find yourself irritated or angry, question what’s going on. Is everyone else being irritating, or do you need extra support for your emotions?

· Before making hurtful comments, take a step back and think about the consequences.

· If you are unable to stop a reaction, take some time out afterward and apologize to the person you hurt.

· Listen when friends and loved ones tell you they’re hurting. Don’t dismiss their feelings or deflect them by blaming your mental illness.

Some people struggle with their moods and behaviors. It can be debilitating for everyone involved. This, however, does not give anyone the right to abuse their condition. Being mentally ill does not excuse bad or inappropriate behavior.

Bipolar Brain Fog: Seeing Thru the Haze

“When it’s foggy in the pulpit it’s cloudy in the pew.”

– Cavett Rober

I’ve touched upon this topic once before in an “a day in the life” post, but it’s something that bears repeating. Because I might forget.

Over the last year or so, I have been experiencing some semi-serious memory issues and some problems with basic motor skills and coordination. I was able to hide these specific problems from my wife for nearly three months before having to officially let the cat out of the bag.

And I only had to do that because I was stumbling around the house one day my wife and I were both home. It was a particularly bad day for me; I had no sense of perception or balance, and was bumping into furniture and running into walls. After about the third obvious misstep, though (no pun intended) I just looked over at my wife. In return, I was pretty much given the “Okay, let’s hear it” look and so I proceeded to tell her what I had been trying so hard to avoid.

It was almost painless…except for the part that wasn’t. I was embarrassed, and I had been forgetting everything, short-term and long-term. I would get hung up in a conversation and not know how to navigate back into it. How did I even manage to keep this a secret for this long? It didn’t matter how to my wife, only why.

WHY did you keep this a secret for so long?

I guess other than being embarrassed (and a little scared) I’m not sure myself. I knew, though, that when one of those “moments” would occur I would leave the room as quickly as possible and go to the bathroom and cry. I initially started this as a method of returning from the edge. I would hope that staring at myself while flooding the counters with my boxed-up tears would act as a trigger to “come back to”. This rarely worked, if ever.

The first thing was first, though, and that was to get in with the doctor ASAP. I had already wasted enough time and had finally accepted what was going on. To a certain extent, anyway.

I already see a neurologist because of a seizure disorder, so it didn’t take too long to get that appointment scheduled. I had both a CT scan and an MRI before the appointment, so I was looking forward to getting some answers.

Of course, it’s not that simple, is it?

The MRI did show two small areas on my corona radiata, an area between the cortex and brain stem. A second MRI was then ordered, and I started to worry. By this point, I was unsure of why another MRI was necessary after I had demonstrated my inability to do what the neurologist was asking of me, both mentally and physically. The physical test’s results indicated I had no reflexes in either foot/ankle, and my whole left side was significantly weaker than my right. The second part of the physical test required me to walk toe-to-toe down a long hallway – which I failed miserably at.

So, I expected some sort of answer. Things were ruled out, such as mini strokes and multiple sclerosis, but nothing was ruled on. I suppose finding out what it wasn’t should have acted as some sort of relief or buffer, but it didn’t.

It was time to get back to the drawing board.

After more lab work, another MRI on the books, and visits with other doctors, I was given at least a little bit of start. As more things continued to be ruled out, we had to at least be getting a little bit closer to an answer, right?

I have experienced all the symptoms and feelings and moods that come with along with bipolar disorder, so I thought I had the game down. But as always, this was not the case. At this point, I was just hoping to forget I was even sick, bipolar or not.

As for where I stand right now, I personally do believe what’s been going on is (more than likely) related to my illness.

Specifically, it’s referred to as “bipolar brain fog”. I guess it’s real enough. I look at it as another rung on the ladder for me, a ladder where the climb is overwhelming and never-ending.

Bipolar brain fog is described as having the “inability to focus on a task, retrieve simple memories or words, or tune out distractions.”

Fortunately – for me, anyway – I hate sympathy (even just sitting here writing this is making me cringe a little), so that in and of itself just acts as a motivator for me to not be like “why me?” or to seek out attention in any other way. Sympathy of any kind just makes me feel uncomfortable, so instead of showering in those negative waters, I decided to just hang out in Lake Out-of-Sight-Out-of-Mind. Back to avoiding the truth again. It was either that or go crazy, and I just couldn’t afford that.

As I tread forward, though, it truly does feel like it may be my bipolar disorder causing everything. From the initial MRI to now, it appears that there are areas in my brain that have shrunk in size. This seems to be indicative of these issues stemming from bipolar disorder.

Memory issues caused by bipolar disorder can be traced to the seriousness of the extreme highs and lows associated with the illness. The excessive and intense repetition of cycling is major causation of memory issues in someone with bipolar disorder.

Now, to clarify, these are not constant issues. I do deal with them daily, but not 24/7 like many others.

It’s still scary. One study suggests that bipolar disorder may cause progressive brain damage. It can even lead to early-onset dementia or Alzheimer’s disease. Now, does that mean that those things are going to happen for sure? No. Does it make sense why I might be scared at times? I’d like to think so.

Bipolar disorder and memory loss are linked to “deficits in regions of the brain,…each of which plays a role in memory as well as movement, learning, reward, motivation, emotion, and romantic interaction.”

My next appointment with the neurologist is later this month so, fingers crossed for another MRI, I guess.

To be in my early 30s and to already be seeing doctors for memory loss concerns is scary. I don’t want to lose anything else I already don’t have.

So, take away anything else. Take whatever you want.

Just don’t take my mind. Don’t take the one thing that’s truly mine.

Leave me my mind.

My Week-Long Hiatus

“Stress acts as an accelerator: it will push you either forward or backward, but you choose which direction.”

– Chelsea Eriaue

It has been one of “those weeks” to be sure. No, nothing genuinely terrible has occurred. It’s just been one of “those weeks” in the sense that when that phrase is used, all can be sure what is truly meant.

For me, the main thing was a classic case of “biting off more than I could chew”, an ailment that I’m too often afflicted with. I spent several days writing several freelance pieces that I had put off until the last minute, ultimately resulting in an intense, unnecessary level of stress that I’m surprised didn’t end up with me losing my hair.

I work best under pressure, I feel, but this was a little too heavy of a workload on top of everything going on. To purposefully put myself in that type of predicament, on top of kids and real life

Anyway, after finally completing my deadly deadline, I spent two days push mowing three acres of land. What started as a pet project quickly turned into a work overload. The yard had to be mowed, though, and I won’t let anyone else do it. It’s just how I was raised.

There’s not much to this post except to let everyone know I plan to stick to the main schedule I initially intended. When I missed Sunday and Monday, I didn’t want to change days just because of “personal strife”. It’s Thursday now, and I’m providing nothing of substantial value except that. I intend to do better by prioritizing and learning from my most recent lesson.

Whoever said “work smarter, not harder” sure knew what the hell they were talking about.

a day in the life: snapshots & hand-me-downs

“The past beats inside me like a second heart.”

– John Banville

I recently had the luxury of finding an old notebook, one that had been used simply for creative purposes. It was about fifteen years old, but you couldn’t tell by its condition. However, the age of the notebook became more than evident after opening it up. To me, anyway.

Upon looking at the chicken scrawl that was my teen handwriting, and the pages and pages of pretentious writing that were also mine…I had a serious cringe moment. I don’t think of myself as a regular Hemingway, but my immaturity was on full display in those pages. It was also real clear that I had no real insight fifteen years ago. Just based on some of the passages I could stomach reading.

“…of the stiff, suspicious statues –

I stumbled along in agonizing anticipation

The voices were hollow and near

hiding in the plaguing darkness

I stopped –

and took in the sky…”

(2007)

There is absolutely no meaning to that. I had no idea what it meant then, and I still don’t. And I won’t try to pretend to spin it now.

The notebook is full of writing that makes me grimace. But its writing shows a side of me, one that I had yet to even define at that point.

It’s only one of many notebooks I could dig out and have the same feeling over (I have even at times thought about getting all the “old stuff” together in a chronological fashion of some sort, but life hasn’t allowed for that to happen). They’re the notebooks that are the basis for anything I am now.

They include song lyrics:

A worried man’s got his worried mind

And sees with two eyes that have gone blind

I been standing in the back just trying to get her name

When you’re that hard-up for a little fix

You ain’t clean, just a sober addict

You’re a million miles away, and everything’s changed

And poetry:

“I bought a brand-new mirror

and I hung it on the wall

I knelt before it every night

And prayed it wouldn’t fall…”

And then I stumbled upon this last little piece. It’s a poem that, at even twelve years old, I have found some merit in.

The Day I Left

the day I left,

in shackles and hand-me-downs,

the hardest thing –

that once remembered dream of

Passion,

I left the beach

I left, strangled and oblivious,

the curtain of hope decaying,

a penned elegy in my place

she was a sad-eyed mystery,

who was whatever I wanted,

sacred remnant

(left the beach for this?)

Instead of diamonds for sand and the sun for a father,

we have this –

Bombs for beachballs, tanks for cruise ships,

war for fun-in-the-sun

I see it all thru concave,

                  visions of mass deception,          

a summertime loss

this wavy clarity takes away

my security

the truth and enlightenment we need is found

in nuclear warfare,

and in our God,

bomb

Blessed,

I left in sleep

Cursed,

I left her

I push this way,

you pull the other

The day I left.

I found salvation

But not the kind I hoped to find

I found loneliness

I was blessed

on the day that I left

I guess if I had a point in today’s ramblings it would be to be careful what you hold onto and what you throw away. It may be old and it may be immature, but it also might contain the plotline for the next great American novel.

Sleep, or the Lack Thereof

“I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I’m awake, you know?”

– Ernest Hemingway

Sleep is perhaps one of the most important fundamentals in a person’s life. The Sleep Foundation describes sleep as an “essential function”, one that allows “your body and mind to recharge, leaving you refreshed and alert when you wake up.”

It’s extremely important that most adults get seven to nine hours of sleep a night. A lack of sleep is linked to a higher risk for obesity, type 2 diabetes, high blood pressure, heart disease, stroke, early death, and poor mental health.

According to the Mental Health Foundation, there are a variety of reasons you may not be getting the sleep you need, including:

  • Stress or worry
  • A change in the noise level or temperature of your bedroom
  • A different routine
  • Too much caffeine or alcohol
  • Shift work
  • Physical or mental health problems
  • Side effects of certain medications

There are several types of sleep disorders, but the most prevalent is insomnia. According to the American Academy of Sleep Medicine, insomnia is defined as the “difficulty either falling or staying asleep that is accompanied by daytime impairments related to those sleep troubles.” Research from the Mayo Clinic suggests 30% of all adults will experience short-term insomnia and 10% of adults will experience long-term insomnia.

Insomnia symptoms may include:

  • Difficulty falling asleep at night
  • Waking up during falling asleep at night’s sleep
  • Waking up too early
  • Not feeling well-rested after a night’s sleep
  • Daytime tiredness or sleepiness
  • Irritability, depression or anxiety
  • Difficulty paying attention, focusing on tasks or remembering
  • Increased errors or accidents
  • Ongoing worries about sleep

Insomnia is not uncommon. In fact, it’s the most common sleep disorder, and one that can be very dangerous.

That’s never stopped me, though. Of course, I shouldn’t be proud of that, and I’m not. But I do suffer from serious insomnia.

I suffer from chronic insomnia (which recently has come in handy with the birth of my youngest son). Being bipolar doesn’t help the matter any. When manic, I’ve stayed up for days without “needing” to rest. That’s not an everyday occurrence, thankfully, but it’s happened enough for me to be used to it.

To the lucky 75% of those who recover from their insomnia, I applaud you and wonder, “what’s your secret?”

I’ve been on all the meds: Ambien. Sonata. Belsomra. Trazadone. Restoril. Lunesta. I’ve stuck with Lunesta because it works some of the time. It’s hit or miss, which at this point is all I can hope for.

Insomnia is usually caused by bad sleep habits, depression, anxiety, and chronic illness. It can even be caused by certain medications.

According to the Mayo Clinic, there are ways to fight insomnia, including:

  • Stick to a schedule: Keep your bedtime and wake time consistent from day to day, including on weekends.
  • Stay active: Regular activity helps promote a good night’s sleep. Schedule exercise at least a few hours before bedtime and avoid stimulating activities before bedtime.
  • Check your medications: If you take medications regularly, check with your doctor to see if they may be contributing to your insomnia. Also check the labels of OTC products to see if they contain caffeine or other stimulants, such as pseudoephedrine.
  • Avoid or limit naps: Naps can make it harder to fall asleep at night. If you can’t get by without one, try to limit a nap to no more than 30 minutes and don’t nap after 3 p.m.
  • Avoid or limit caffeine and alcohol/Don’t use nicotine: All of these can make it harder to sleep, and effects can last for several hours.
  • Don’t put up with pain: If a painful condition bothers you, talk to your doctor about options for pain relievers that are effective enough to control pain while you’re sleeping.
  • Avoid large meals and beverages before bed: A light snack is fine and may help avoid heartburn. Drink less liquid before bedtime so that you won’t have to urinate as often.

Suffering from a mental illness can make falling asleep no easy task. It is usually easier said than done for me since other factors play a role. I’ve always had trouble sleeping. I struggle with falling asleep, not staying asleep. If I can get there, I’m there. It’s the getting to sleep that so often eludes me.

No matter, insomnia and other sleep disorders can be extremely damaging, especially to those with a mental health disorder. Mental health disorders tend to make it harder to sleep well, in general.

Disorders Affected by Lack of Sleep:

  • Depression
  • Seasonal Affective Disorder
  • Anxiety Disorders
  • Bipolar Disorder
  • Schizophrenia
  • ADHD
  • Autism Spectrum Disorder

There is research to suggest that “brain activity during sleep has profound effects on emotional and mental health.” A 2021 study also suggests that issues with insomnia are “associated with significantly increased odds of frequent mental distress.”

Overall, sleep helps maintain cognitive abilities, including learning, memory, and emotional regulation. This is especially important to note to those who suffer from any kind of mental illness or psychiatric condition.

So, I guess that poet was wrong: Sleep isn’t just for dreamers.