The Rebirth of Sanity – Phase Two: Continuation

In continuation and in conjunction with the subject at hand, the questions still remain.
Why do people freak out? Why do we have mental breakdowns?
Why the frustration and why do we have bouts with ourselves?
Why are people so hard on themselves? And of course, if at all possible, how do we stay out of our own way?
These questions are obvious and valid. Also, it is clear to me why life can be stressful. No one is above being overwhelmed. No one is above human nature and sure, there are some who can say they live a fortunate life. In fact, we all do.

If you don’t see yourself as fortunate or if you think that you have less-than and this is your mentality, then where are your answers? Where is your happiness? Where is your hope and what are you willing to do to change these parameters and create the life you want for yourself.
We’re all alive yet we do not have the same life. We don’t have the same positions or earn the same income. We might not live in the same climates or have the same opportunities as everyone else.
But as the saying goes, to each their own.
Right?

We do not have the same talents nor, in fairness, we are not born equal.
To each their own, which means we all have our own uniqueness. We all have our own talents and abilities and our own special brand of character.
No one can see for us or think for us and certainly, no one can act for us or learn for us.
Life is not easy. No, not at all.

There are challenges that we face. There is prejudice and judgments. There is cultural biases and intellectual and social snobberies that create rifts between people. There is racism and sexism and there is ageism; and more, there’s always someone looking to poke holes in the story of others around them.
There is always someone looking to trip the faster runner, just so they won’t lose or have to face the fact that they are not the fastest or the greatest.

Life comes with challenges. Life has its ups and downs.
Life comes with loss and failures and pains that seem to leave a mark.
Remember, not all scars are visible. Not all wounds have healed.
This is true. Not all illnesses are visible either.
No one can look at me and automatically diagnose me as Diabetic (Type 2) nor can someone look at me and tell about my social anxiety disorder or my medicated resistant depression.
I do not look like someone who has experience with alcohol or substance abuse nor do I have anything that screams from my body to tell anyone that I am a suicide survivor.
Everyone has something they have in their heart. We all have secrets and we all have pains from the past. More accurately, we all have a past, which means people in glasses shouldn’t throw stones yet we do. Then we wonder where the draft is coming from when it gets cold outside.
This is also true.

So, to each their own, which means my gifts belong to me. My talents are mine. I might not be as talented as someone who can sell out Madison Square Garden, but . . .
by deciding to remove myself from irrational and unrealistic comparisons, I have allowed myself to level the playing field so that, at last, I can simply play the game without burdening myself with harsh and unfair judgment. 

I can remember the very first conversation with a literary agent.
To be clear, it was brutal!
Let’s just say this conversation was short and less than kind. I’ve heard from critics. I’ve been told that my prose read about as good as someone who writes for their middle school paper, if that, and that I should resign my hopes of becoming a writer.
When I spoke about changing my career and crossing over into the healthcare industry, I was told to stay in my lane. I was told that I don’t have what it takes. I was told that I could try this, but I would never be able to make a real living at this.
I was told that I don’t have the educational background and that I’m too old to start that journey now, and that it would be better if I stayed in a more humble role like perhaps volunteer work would be better for me.
I was told to leave what I want to do to the professionals and that I should leave it at that.

So, as it goes with life, I could have done one of two things. I could have listened to this advice. I could have surrendered to this and taken the feedback to heart.
I could have surrendered my dreams. I could have forfeited my plans to write or seek a future as a writer. As for my trip into the mental health world, I could have submitted to the advice that I don’t have the background. I could have accepted the hints that I’m too old for this kind of switch.
Or, I could have accepted this and that I should settle for what I can get and set my expectations to a lower standard.
I could have done this.
I could have quit. I could have accepted the critics or the doubts from outside influences. Or, I could continue. I could live without their regard. I could reach for my dreams and take a step closer to the life I want to live. I can do this on a daily basis and not listen to them. The fact that I do this on a daily basis means that I have already defied all of the bets against me.

Perhaps it was an interview that inspired me to keep going.
This is where I heard a famous screenwriter from Hell’s Kitchen, New York City explain that “no one can stop you from doing what you love to do.”
Now, perhaps I might be paraphrasing this a little, but only slightly, because either way, this is true.

No one can stop you or I from doing what we love to do.
No one can stop you from trying to learn. No one can stop you from nurturing your dreams. This doesn’t mean someone is going to pay you for this.
But, no one can stop you. I took this idea to heart. Since then, I’ve never stopped or looked back. Instead, I have learned to accumulate my success of continuing my work.

After removing myself from outside consideration, I chose to make my own considerations.
I chose to educate myself. I chose to practice my craft on a daily basis.
Was this easy?
The answer is no.
Some days, I find myself in good spirits. Some days, I find myself challenged and frustrated. I find myself wondering if any of this is necessary?
Is this worth it? Does anybody really care?
Will I ever make it?
Or, what does that even mean?
To make it?

I accept and believe the motto that says nothing valuable or worthy is going to be simple. The only simple truth is everything takes work. If the saying holds true that anything worthwhile does not come easy or that anything that comes easy won’t last and anything that lasts won’t come easily then, of course, it makes sense to me that we freak out sometimes. It makes sense that we get angry when we don’t get our way.

I can understand the thought process of pass or fail thinking. I can also understand what happens to our spirit when we nurture our flaws instead of our talents.
I can understand the aftermath of calculating our mistakes and adding the sum of our critics which degrades our value. I can understand how our thinking leads us to these bouts of internal harshness.
It’s a bitch!

I have sworn at times that I was going to quit. I’ve sworn that I was going to throw out my notes and that I was done with these dreams of mine.
I can say there were moments when my hopes and dreams seemed to be close to me but as hard as I try to reach them, there’s always something that kept them just beyond the reach of my fingertips.
I could almost feel them. I could almost touch it.
I’ve come close. I’ve stepped up to the plate to swing at the pitches that life has thrown me. I’ve hit the ball high and far, but not to the point where, bam, it’s a home run . . . and the crowd goes wild!

I’ve put all of my eggs into one basket before. I planted seeds.
Yes, I have.
But there were times when I forgot to nurture what I’ve planted. I forgot to put forward the effort and be consistent with this. I forgot to continue with my plans and keep my actions alive.
I forgot that life is not filled with yeses and acceptance letters and not every door is going to open, just because we knocked.
I forgot that life is neither fair nor unfair.
Life is just life and not to be confused with fate or luck or anything of the sort; life happens, regardless of our opinion. Life does not concur or coincide with the hopes we have or the dreams in our hearts because life happens no matter what. So, this means if you see an opening to get what you want. Take it.
Take a shot. Swing for the fences, I say. Even if you miss, at least you stepped up, which is more than most people do. In fact, most people watch from the stands and act as experts, yet, they never had the stones to get in there to play the game.

So, in fairness to my equality, I’m pretty sure that there’s no hope for a phone call or an email from the New York Yankees. I doubt that there’s a Hollywood agent looking to book me on a flight to star in a major motion picture. I’m a fight fan but I doubt that I can compete in the cage and take on MMA’s best.
I can dance a little but I don’t see much future in this nor are there any hopes for me to get on the set of America’s Got Talent.
No, I don’t see this for my future.
I do not do poetry readings. In fact, I do not do readings of any kind.
I do not do much else, except for this: each morning, I wake before the sun.
I sit with my cup of coffee and face the white light from a blank computer screen. I am tired yet I never sleep much anyway. I have some crust in the corner of my eyes and as the darkness before dawn sets the mood for me, I begin my daily routine. I write some. I listen to some music. I work on program and presentation ideas some. I answer emails some too, but to be honest, I hate emails.
I really do.
I inhale and then exhale some. Then I let out my breath.
I let myself go and come to you. I let my fingers move. I let them punch the keys on the keyboard and as I type this, I watch the letters appear to form words and shortly after, the white screen isn’t blank anymore. 
To me, this is miraculous. This is an achievement. Any one who tells me otherwise or who cancels me out is simply unimportant.

I come here for this moment of greatness because no one can take it away. No one can destroy this. I am safe here. I am free to write and think and say anything I want.
I can change the world with fiction or I can allow my words to inspire us and to keep us going, at least for a little while.

But have I made it?
Am I successful?
Have I found my way on the best seller’s list?
Well, yes to some of this and no the last part.

I might not be regarded by the critics or known as someone famous. But as for success, I can say that I’ve had the chance to walk into a college classroom where the students in an advanced psyche class had my book Operation Depression on their desk. This is part of their required reading.
I was there to give a presentation to inspire them and to share my thoughts about mental health and what it means to work in this field. My aim is to inform them how valuable they are but also, i want them to know what they’re getting themselves involved with.

I might not have touched the world. But to a young girl who shared about her experience of rape and abuse with me, or to a young man who lives with suicidal scars and to a professor who believed in me so deeply, I can say that yes – the fact that I did something that helped them in at least a small way means that I am the most successful man in the world.
To a woman who left her abusive home and decided to reach for the courage to move out and get away; to her, something I wrote and said meant something enough to inspire her to get the fuck out of there!
Please, I ask that you forgive the profanity in this text; however, this is not a willy-nilly curse word. No, this is about the content and the level of strength it takes to get away from the trauma-bond and the physical abuse that took place.
I never made much money at this, but I’d take this payment hand over fist.

We have the ability to inspire. We have the ability to create. We have the right to explore and we have the right to go, be and do. We have the right to pay our hearts and soul and no one, no one at all has the right to stop us from doing this.
We can work and we can build. Or, we can wish we had tried and say “oh well,” but that doesn’t seem much like living to me.
To me, that is not living.
That is just existing. 

Phase Two means we are talking about action.
Next, we will be talking about the maintenance it takes to continue our acts and to keep our process going, alive and well.
We have to understand that whatever we have and whatever we earn can slip away, unless we care for it. 

Self-care is everything.
No matter what job you chose to work or what you do with your life and no matter what team you play for; it’s important to know that self-care is the most valuable part of teamwork.
As for the team, we have the right to choose who we play with. We have the right to make changes in our lineup and, if we need to, we can change our playbook at any given moment.

The choice is ours.