New Beginnings

Artwork credit: @leaptheman

I came across a picture today that I think represents how I feel about my life lately. I really love this drawing done by an artist who also has schizoaffective disorder. It’s almost as if I could have manifest it myself, if I only had the same skill of expression through artwork.

As I saw it, the picture shows a face that is fractured, torn, suppressed, insane, malfunctioning, sick. There is a flower that grows out of the top of this face, its roots intertwined in the dilapidated illness of the mind.

And the more I looked at this drawing the more I felt I could relate to it. I felt it because I’ve been through the muck and the mire and I have died and been reborn. That flower, to me, represents hope, change, ambition, rebirth. It is rooted in the mess that is my mind. From a distorted bed of lies rises something new, something beautiful.

My life before the illness was without passion, ambition, direction. And it remained like that even through many years after the diagnosis. I have no doubt it would have stayed this way until I died, had it not been for the most traumatic thing that ever happened to me.

It’s hard to believe it happened six years ago, it still feels fresh as if it was a month ago. I was at the mall with my family, browsing in a jeans supply store. A man approached me and began asking strange questions. Even as I write this it is too much for me and I think I am not ready to go into details. I will just say that in the moment I thought he was there to murder me. I truly believed this to be true. I told my brother, who was with me while this man spoke to me, that I loved him, and goodbye. I accepted my coming death and waited for the gunshot.

My dad, who was waiting outside the store, saw that something strange was going on. He intervened and told the man to leave us alone. Even to this day with medication and perspective, I still think that if my dad hadn’t stepped in that this man would have murdered me.

In what seemed like my last moments on earth, it wasn’t just fear of death that shook me to my core. I mean, sure, death is fucking scary and it was most definitely a reason for me to be afraid. But it was the knowledge that I was going to die having never accomplished anything that really settled into my mind.

After this incident, I ended up holing up in my room, terrified of even going outside of my house. But there was this new fire in me, something that fought back. Something that said I have things I need to do with my life.

And so I began to venture outside of my comfort zones. I would go out into the yard for 5 minutes. And then I would go out in the driveway. And then I would go or a quick drive around the block. So on and so forth I built up my courage to go out for longer periods of time.

These days, I go out in public by myself for long periods of time. The fear is still there, and I don’t think it will ever go away. I have learned to be brave and to test my delusions. I’m still not perfect and I still have days when I cannot bring myself to go out in the world. But I am not stuck in my room, which I very well could have allowed myself to be forever.

I have learned so much about myself and my limits. Where I am weak and where I am strong. How to cope with hardship. How to survive depression. How to have hope when all seems to be falling down.

At the moment, I am building a business plan with a friend. We started over a year ago and had planned to open shop in 2018, but I had a minor relapse and things had to be postponed. This year we are back at it and our plans are stronger than ever. Soon we will be going to a workshop to learn how to make a professional business plan. Then we will be presenting that business plan to an organization to seek funding. We can start even without the extra funding, but it would make a big impact on getting going. So that is where our focus is.

Today, 9 years into having schizoaffective, I am the best version of myself that I have ever been. I have ambition and drive. I am passionate about becoming a better person. I am changing the things that have kept me down even before the illness. I am no longer nihilistic. I seek to make a difference in the world. I see growth in myself every few months. Even looking back at old blog posts I have made here, I know that I have changed as a person.

I still face depression and I still want to give up some days. I am quicker to respond to that negativity than I used to be even a year ago. I use life to inspire me. Just eight hours ago I was feeling hopeless and useless for the hundredth time this month. But I do not let those feelings sit with me for very long. I always push back. I find a way to overcome them. I look at how far I’ve come and that reminds me that there is still more left in me to fight. It will always be hard for me, and I accept that when I can. This is the adventure that is my life.

Put the weight on the bar

Got a hope and a calling

No more goddamn stalling

Put the weight on the bar

And lift

 

Cut out the shame and the fear

Shift my life into gear

Put the weight on the bar

And lift

 

Fail hard and fail often

Say to hell with caution

Put the weight on the bar

And lift

 

Cut out the bad and the toxic

You can’t be in my life if your catastrophic

Put the weight on the bar

And lift

 

Appreciate my love and my blessings

Understand that life is always testing

Put the weight on the bar

And lift

 

Smile

Little pieces, so minuscule and fragile

I picked them up and put them in a pile

I talked to god and asked him to stay for awhile

Because I’m building the frame to hold my smile

Devoted

The idea was whispered to me in my sleep

A kingdom that would rise out of the ash

Who am I to fight the enthusiasm?

No, I will not sway

If you are chosen

You must answer the call

Or be forgotten like the rest

Hope in fear

Some days

I do not know

What to do with myself

Because I have not

Felt this good

For awhile

*

I am lost

As to where to

Direct my attention

*

I have fear

Of loss of control

Losing myself to pain

And of moving backwards

To the slump I was in

Only yesterday

*

I try to

Have courage

Through the anxiety

*

I hope

That this high

Lasts for some time

So that I may enjoy

The soothing

Comfort

Have Hope

Not all of my brothers will make it out

No matter the strength they have

The world can beat them down further

 

I feel blessed that I was able to pave a way for myself

That I could balance my chemistry again

 

I still suffer inside thinking of those who work hard

And feel no relief from pain

 

I can only offer what has helped me

And pray that it can inspire them to help themselves

To have persistence in their path finding

 

We are all hurting in some way

In different ways then others

 

Finding those who have faced similar tragedy

Can bring comfort to your own

 

Having been hurt

Tortured by anxiety and depression

It is only through hope that I am free

 

The struggle is devastating

Crippling me where I am weak

 

I must seek out my strength

And grapple onto the ledges that are few and far in between

 

It has not been an easy journey

Many times I have fallen

Many more times will I fall

 

Yet I am shaped by my circumstance

Forged by fire into hard granite

 

When I am crying out in my pain

It is my want for something better that pushes me

 

Though it is hard to believe in something

It is the only answer to the horrors of life

I must look for the beauty of suffering

 

The lack of desire and the anhedonia

Have a prettiness that most will deny

 

But my stoic answer to lack of feelings

Is that I was always in control of how I reacted

 

When I put myself to work

In whatever small way that it was

It did not motivate me any further

 

I trudged on anyways

Thinking that there was no other way out

 

Looking back on the small things that multiply

I can see the progress I have made and I am proud

 

 

 

 

 

 

Listen

The thrumming

The beat; awakens

*

Soul and mind

Grim past is

*

Forgotten swiftly

As I am lost

*

In serenity of

Instruments

*

Was I ever

Here before?

*

I remember a

Time back then

*

When I would

Sing of the hearts

*

Calling and live

To the tune

*

Of moments

Rushing by

A prayer for hope

As day turns night

I say my thanks for my blessings

The bread has been provided for the evening

Laughter has been granted to me

Bonds have been shared

*

A new dawn

An awakening of soul

The soft flesh of hope

And many favors

*

The liar

Wishes to steal

Though afraid

I am strong

True Grit

Mine

*

So I walk through the valley of death

Feet wary of sandy footholds

Eyes wide and aware

*

I give thanks for my brothers

And the support of my Love

Though much work ahead

I am energized from you

*

So I offer you my beating heart Lord

 Forgive me for my many sins

Protect me from evil

Amen

Some perspective on finding direction

I’ve switched what I want to do with my life a few times over the past 10 years. From managing a store, to trades, to business, to healthcare to music production. It can be hard to not feel guilty for not having stuck with anything. The truth is, nothing has really peaked my interest so much that I feel like actively pursuing it. Things tend to hold my attention for a few weeks, and then die off as I realize it’s not really something I’m into.

Well, I’m on to my next big thing, and it feels a little different this time. That thing would be electrical engineering. Usually when I come up with ideas for what I want to do with myself, I’m mostly thinking about the end goal more so then the progress in between. I haven’t found anything where I’ve genuinely been interested in the process. Building a business is the closest thing that came to interest in the time spent learning, but even then it felt more like a means to an end.

The past week I’ve been consuming tutorials on how electricity works, and I’m fascinated! I’ve been literally jumping up out of my seat in excitement over what I learn (My cats think I’m crazy!). I don’t recall ever feeling this much interest in anything in my entire life. It’s not just about building an Iron Man suit eventually (How cool would that be?!). It’s actually really cool just to learn all the little pieces of information I’ve been researching. I learned how transistors work and how they’re made a few days ago, and I was totally amazed by the genius of the people who designed them. It wasn’t my regular “Okay, just need to focus long enough to learn something” haze that I usually go through when I’m learning about something. It was more of a “Holy shit this is cool!” sort of feeling the whole way through. I watched some videos more then once because I found it so interesting.

Woah, take it easy now. I haven’t felt this excited since I was starting to get into music production awhile back. I’m having a hard time not saying to myself “You were just as excited about music, and that lasted how long? Two, maybe three weeks? It’s just another phase that will quickly pass.” I have to remind myself that this is worth trying out, and no amount of guilt is going to help me find what I’m looking for in life. Even if my interest peters out, I have to at least try it to see if it’s really what I want.

So I’m doing my best not to be hard on myself for my past interests, and just let the excitement I feel be a motivator to continue in this passion. I have to let go of those failures to launch, and focus on the here and now. What if this is the thing I’ve always wanted and just never knew it, and it just took multiple failures and tries to figure that out? This could change everything about the way I live my life, should I give that up because I’ve felt this excited before and given up before? No way! Besides the fact that I should keep trying things out until something sticks, this feels a lot more right then my previous attempts at pursuit of passion.

I wanted to be writer, I really thought I did. This was mostly because it just comes a little more natural for me to do. The problem is even though it comes natural to me, it doesn’t necessarily always feel enjoyable. If anything I think it’s more of a release then a hobby or passion. The muse will come and go as she pleases, and I don’t have much energy to chase her around. I like writing, but that’s about it. I think more about the fame and money and accomplishment of writing books then I do of actually sitting down to write.

Trades, meh. Challenging yes, but not really interesting to me all that much.

Healthcare was more of a pipe-dream I think. That’s one where I really had to lie to myself and say “This is what I want to do!”. I was more interested in the respect gained in being a healthcare provider, the big paycheque, and the challenge of the complexity. The problem is I wasn’t all that driven to learn about anatomy. It sounds interesting for sure, just not that “I NEED TO DO THIS” sort of interesting I think is necessary in having a passion.

Music production, another thing that I was more interested in the end result then actually learning how to do it.

Managing a store? The title sounds cool, the paycheck sounds cool, but dealing with shitty people all the time? Fart on that.

Lastly business. This was more of a middle ground for me. I was, and am still, interested in business. I have moderate interest in learning the tricks of the trade. In that I would have more interest in the process if it had some sort of end-goal in mind. I could probably muster up enough interest in marketing to learn it well if I had a project I felt was worth selling. I think this will be something I will poke at more in my later life after I’ve learned more about the world, and am ready to start creating big things.

I bring all these things up because I had sort of an a-ha moment just now. Even though I tried all of these things out, it doesn’t mean that I’ve failed in not pursuing them right now. These things might all tie into what is really burning inside me at the moment; Learning about electronics.

What if I end up going to school for electrical engineering, become the best that I can at it, really engulf myself in the learning of advanced electronics. What if I then decide that I want to manufacture medical devices to help people? Good thing I already had somewhat of an interest in medicine. What if I decide to design cool musical production stuff? There’s my musical interest coming into play. If I have to write technical papers, or even just explain things to other engineers or CEO’s, well it’s a good thing I’m good at writing! And it’s a good thing I study business on and off all the time, as that information will be useful when I invent something and decide to market it to the public.  I will need to be good at managing people if I run a company selling electronic devices. And of course I’ll need to be mechanically inclined to build everything.

So have I really failed at everything I’ve tried? Or have I just planted seeds that may one day mature into strong cedar? I don’t know, of course I don’t know. I’m sure we’ve all heard something along the lines of “Life will set its own path for you no matter how much you try to control it.” What I do know is that perspective changes everything about how you view the world. I could see these past interests as a complete failing in character, but I think instead, I will see these “failures” as stepping stones to a brighter future. Hope is a powerful thing, and feels a whole lot better then distress and misery.

Donnie

Donnie pushed the needle into his forearm. Liquid ice shoots up the veins and capillaries. A sense of relief gripped him as he fell into the musty brown chair, dust particles flying from the cushion.

He had been living at the quaint little shithole for the past month, and so far nobody had bothered him. The place was an abandoned apartment on 33rd street, Donnie’s palace of termites. The chair sat in the corner by the bay window, white paint peeling on the walls behind it. Bottles and garbage lined the floors and the room had a sour odour of urine.

As Donnie sat and revelled in his high, he thought about skyscrapers. Great glass structures towering over the city, he knew one day one day he would sit on his throne in the sky.

A series of pops crackled in Donnie’s temple. A sharp pain meandered through to the back of his skull. As neuron centers split in his brain, he crashed onto the ground writhing in pain. Blackness shrouded over his sight, and he fell unconscious. It was over as quickly as it began.

Hours later, he awoke in a puddle of his own piss. Although he was not aware of it, the course of his life had forever changed. It was only a matter of time before Donnie would acquire his kingdom.

The old Chevrolet started up with a putt and a roar. Donnies only material possession still worth money, the old Chevelle was his last show of pride in this world. The black paint was beginning to fade, and the red leather seats were torn at the seems. It still attracted a lot of attention though, and mixed with his handsome sharp features he didn’t have any trouble picking up women. Even in his tattered black denim jacket and hole-ridden blue jeans, Donnie created a presence around women. When he walked into bars, women would thinking about running their fingers through his black, curly hair.

He drove up 33rd street to the liquor store on the corner. His head was pounding and he had changed out of his stinking clothing. The neon lights above the door were usually a sign to Donnie that everything was going to be okay. He didn’t feel that way today.

In fact today something didn’t feel right at all. For the most part Donnie dealt with life by drinking and heroin. That hunger just wasn’t there today, the ebb and flow of depression and anxiety had faded.

He sat in the car and realized he wanted something more, that the booze and the drugs just wouldn’t cut it anymore. Something had changed, something he didn’t understand. He didn’t crave the self destruction that had been his life so far, he craved power.

 

It took 3 months for Donnie to save up enough money from bottles to buy the real estate licence. It took another 4 years to build up his business and client base. From there he moved onto investment banking and hedge funds. In a matter of 15 year Donnie had become one of the richest, most powerful men in the world.

He now wore an expensive blue suit, with a golden tie and silver cufflinks. His hair was combed back neatly and formally, and his good looks were shining at their full potential.

When Donnie was killed in the car accident, he had 102 billion dollars to his name, and had saved over half the planet from poverty. Statues lined museums dedicated to him, and his name was known by any living person.

A dissection of the greatest man whoever lived was performed hours after his death. Everyone wanted to know what it was that set Donnie apart from the rest.

The fear and pain centers in Donnie’s brain had been fried from his heroin overdose.