Category Archives: depression

What Did We Learn?

“What did we learn?” I might be the only one I know that liked the movie Burn After Reading. And that was my favorite line in the movie, “What did we learn?” At the end of the movie, J.K. Simmons, who plays a CIA superior, asks that question. You might recognize him and that line from the Farmers Insurance commercials from a while back. In Burn After Reading, Brad Pitt was excellent as a goofy, idiotic fitness center employee. John Malkovich was superb, as usual. Tilda Swinton perfectly plays a woman you want to hate. And some guy named George Clooney was in it also. Really, why am I the only one that likes this movie? It’s on Netflix. Y’all should check it out.

But this isn’t a movie review, per se, but more of a reason to ask ourselves, “What did we learn?” Throughout the whole movie, there is a comedy of errors with the CIA, other branches of the government, and even the Russian Embassy at one point. Nothing seems to be going right for anyone involved in the plot. It’s a hilarious mess. And at the end of the movie, the CIA superior (J.K. Simmons) simply asks, “What did we learn?” No one in his office had a good answer. Even though he had no idea what had happened to cause all the craziness he had to deal with, he answered his own question by saying something along the lines of, “Let’s not do that again.”

As I mentioned last week, I recently changed jobs. On a shift before I left, I was talking to my buddy I worked with in the kitchen. The lack of hours was the only reason I left that job, one of the points of our discussion. We had both been frustrated with the cut in hours. I mentioned to him that I learned a lot during the year I worked there. That upset him, at least that’s how I took it with his response of, “I didn’t learn anything. I didn’t get anything from this.” I guess I see his point. As a cook, I got very few new lessons from that job to add to my skill sets of working in a kitchen. So many people, like my friend, fail to see the bigger picture. I did learn some things, albeit, not much related to cooking. But I did learn.

I’m 47 years old. There is not quite as much new stuff for me to learn as when I was in my 20’s, and there’s even less desire to learn some of it on purpose. I doubt I’ll learn Mandarin at this age. I’m probably not going to learn how to rebuild a car engine at this point in my life. And I’m certainly not going to learn how to perform brain surgery. There’s a ton of new things I’m not going to learn as a whole, and I accept that. However, every day I can find something to add to what I already know. I think that’s why I’m so engaging with people, because I might learn something. And I’m always open to new experiences and adventures, and the lessons that come with them.

I’ve learned a lot of important things in my life. I’ve learned there’s plenty more things that I don’t know than what I do know. I’ve learned that listening can make a world of difference for someone. I’ve learned that sometimes the best way to sound smart is to say less. I’ve learned that others can make me happy or sad, or elicit other fleeting emotions, but that I am solely responsible for my own happiness in my life. And that starts with me being happy with myself. Which I’m not. At least not completely, but I am working on it. It’s hard sometimes with periodic bouts of depression, some of which last for weeks. But I’ve learned it doesn’t last forever. I’ve learned to keep moving forward.

While I might not learn something new like how to navigate a ship using the stars, I will continue to take each day as an opportunity to add to myself and learn something. What did we learn? It doesn’t have to be profound or life-changing, or even a good lesson for that matter. Because even in the craziness of life, no matter what the lesson is, you should be able to give an answer at the end of the day when asked, “What did we learn?” Even if the answer is, “Let’s not do that again.”

Thanks for stopping by this week. I hope you learned something. Good day, God bless.

Dave

Change

I just finished my second week at a new job. I’m no longer working in the airport, although I may or may not fill in a couple shifts a week as needed. I really liked that job. I miss most of the people I worked with. Unfortunately, I needed more hours than they could give me. The bills have to be paid. With the new job, getting 40 hours a week, that will be much easier now.

Back to Work

With every change there is an adjustment period. My new hours are later in the evening than I’ve been working the last year. I’m off around 10:30 each night, but I still need a couple hours to unwind. I’ve been staying up too late at night, I think because, before, I would have a few hours after work to relax and still get to bed by midnight. Now, a few hours after work takes me to around 3am. That’s a big adjustment, but I’ll get used to it.

Another change with the new job and hours is that I don’t get to see my kids as much. This is the hardest adjustment so far. I go to work about the time they are getting out of school and I don’t get off until after they are in bed. But we’ll make it work. I will have my boys spending the night with me tonight and since school is out Monday, I’ll have my girls Sunday night. Once summer break gets here, I’ll get to spend more regular time with them. This is only temporary.

My Hardest Job

My writing has also suffered. This new schedule has me way out of whack as far finding the time to write. When I wake up in the morning (sometimes not until noon), I don’t write. I need some time to fully wake up, eat, shower, and whatever else I need to do. Then, before I know it, it’s time to go to work. After work, I’m tired and don’t feel like writing. Granted, working on my novel has been hit or miss at best the last couple months anyway, but I always made time for my blog posts. This is the second week in a row I’m writing on Saturday instead of having it ready to go Saturday morning. I fell asleep the other night with a great post in mind, wrote it and rewrote it in my head. I couldn’t wait to put on paper the next day. I spent the whole next day trying to remember what that post was going to be. It’s probably gone forever.

I’m adjusting to my new job and the hours. I didn’t think it would be a huge adjustment, but I should have known better. I’ve always had some resistance to change, but the last few years, with the PTSD and depression diagnoses, change is much harder now than it ever was before. That’s why I didn’t seriously look for a new job when our hours first got cut. I liked where I was. I get into a routine, get comfortable, and I go with it. Now I’m getting into a new routine and it will be fine. I’m already comfortable in my new job surroundings. I guess I’m half way there, as far as adjusting

My goal for next week is to have my blog post ready in advance, like I used to do. And to have something a little more meaningful. This week is more of an update on me instead of some insightful discussion (at least to me some of my posts are insightful). If there was a price for admission, you’d be entitled to a refund this week. But thanks for stopping by anyway. I promise to do better next week. Good day, God bless.

Dave

Listen

Listen. That’s all. Not, “Listen to me” or “Listen to this.” Just listen. Sometimes the best way to help someone is to simply to listen. You don’t even need to have a solution to their problems, you just have to listen. It could make a world of difference. Aside from the mandatory, “check the box,” training we get in the army about suicide awareness and prevention, I have had plenty of in-depth training with respect to actually intervening during a serious suicidal ideation. I’m comfortable with that role. And I have done that more times than I want to remember. Not to mention, I have my own personal experience in failing at an attempt. I might not be able to relate to a person’s specific reason, but I certainly can relate to the feelings someone is going through when they are contemplating suicide. But most importantly, I listen.

Years ago, a friend of mine was going through a rough time. Not only that, he was also being moved to a different unit which contributed to his downward mental spiral. Knowing he would be leaving soon, I pulled him aside and thanked him for his impact in my army life. He was a role model to me in many ways. I was a better Soldier for having been under his leadership, and I wanted him to know that. Then, unexpectedly, he started talking. He opened up to me. He talked for about 45 minutes or so. I mostly just listened. Everything he told me is confidential because, as a chaplain assistant in the army, it stays confidential. That’s the rules. And even more so, in my mind, since he was coming to me as a friend. I didn’t think much more of it until later.

I emailed him after he left, to check on him, to see how things were going. That’s when I realized how important it was that I took the time to listen to him when I did. He made it very clear that my taking that time altered his life. Actually, saved it. In his email reply he said, “I appreciate you man because your words really gave me the chance to live another day. All jokes aside, you can really say that you saved a life man.” Funny thing is, I don’t remember talking very much. That’s because I mostly listened. Sometime later, in a Facebook message, after my failed suicide attempt, he gave me encouragement and also details about the day I stopped to talk (listen) to him. He stated, “My roommate was gone. I had all my ammo and my rifle. And I planned on doing it…I was headed to the room and you stopped me and said I love you brother… Man, I went back and loaded the weapon and cried to myself because I knew people loved me…You saved me and I am always here.” That day, the day I just wanted to let him know that I appreciated his leadership, the day that I listened to him, that unknowingly important day. I had no idea he was even considering suicide. No clue.

There are a couple of reasons this story came to mind this week. First, the son of a friend of mine took his own life recently. I’ve been messaging almost daily with that friend. And it’s been hard. I have no idea what to say. I understand the emotions my friend is going through, and it breaks my heart. But I can relate to the son that got to the point of taking his own life because I’ve been there. I tried. Without giving any details, I told another friend about messaging with the first friend, that I didn’t know what to say, that my training was in suicide prevention, and that I’m at somewhat of a loss in talking with a surviving family member after the fact. That’s when friend 2 told me I’m a good man, because I listen when people needed. That hardly makes me a good man, but I am always glad to listen when needed. That’s when I remembered my friend who says I saved his life, and I didn’t even know it at that time, all because I listened to him. That’s how this story came back to me this week. I listened. And, at the time, I had no idea how important that was. All I did was listen. That didn’t cost me anything. But it could have cost my friend his life had I not made time for him. Dear God, thank you.

Sometimes all you have to do is listen to make a difference in someone’s life. Thank you for listening to me this week. Good day, God Bless.

Dave

Milestones and Reflections

This past week, my blog surpassed 400 followers from all over the world. Granted, that’s not a huge number, but it’s still an amazing milestone to me, considering I write for my own pleasure and therapy. I didn’t set out to create any kind of following for this site, only a place for me to put some thoughts somewhere, like a way to journal. Originally, Story of My Life was a place for me to do some writing during my deployment to Afghanistan and share a few things with my family and friends. After returning from war, I took a two-year break from posting here. I then started using Story of My Life again in February 2016, as an outlet for self-therapy and recovery. Based on the number of followers, comments and likes on the posts, it seems like a lot of people can relate to what I’m putting out there.

As I celebrate a very modest milestone, I also want reflect on Story of My Life and share with some of you that might not know the progression this blog has taken the last couple of years and why I post (almost) every week. I say progression of this blog, but in reality, it’s my progression. These are my thoughts, feelings, experiences that I share here. Some entries are comical or silly. Some are dark and painful. Some are rants, usually complaining about dealing with the VA. I’ve posted poetry and short fiction stories, but mostly, real-life stories of me surviving my life.

While my first blog post to Story of My Life was 5 years ago, it’s only been in the last two years that I started a new journey of using weekly writing as therapy and sharing my story with the world. The beginning of this new journey started with me opening up about a failed suicide attempt, being taken to the psych ward at the hospital in hand cuffs by the police, and being diagnosed with PTSD and major depression. From there, I shared what I saw as obvious irony in the fact that I attempted suicide, being that I was the lead trainer in suicide prevention training in most of my army reserve units. Ironic, in a twisted way, I know.

I’ve shared stories from my deployments to Iraq and Afghanistan, stories about my kids, and I’ve written some entertaining fictional stories. I’ve touched a little on the end of my marriage and I’ve exposed some of the flaws with the VA that veterans have to deal with. I’ve written about the struggles I have from time to time with depression and suicidal thoughts. I’ve also written about some of the victories I’ve had the last two years, which include sharing a couple excerpts and progress from the novel I’m writing (yes, still working on that). I’ve written about the weather, traffic, youth sports, investing, the Mississippi River, and I’ve shared some about my civilian job in a few posts. I cover most everything that pops into my head in any given week. We can all see the pros and cons in that. But I do it anyway.

I write every week and post it here because it helps me. I am able to sort my thoughts and put them in some kind of order that makes sense to me. It’s a way to track my progress as well as my low points. Each post gives me a record of what I was doing or thinking and I can go back any time and see what was on my mind. I know, I can do the same thing without putting it on a blog, but I feel that making some of these stories public forces me to put more thought and effort into this project. And I know that my story helps other people, too, which is a bonus for my motivation to keep writing and sharing. Knowing there are people out there that can relate to my issues and mental illness is helpful to me as well. I appreciate all the likes and comments of support on my posts each week.

I do this for me. But I also do it for everyone else that hasn’t found their voice yet in speaking up comfortably about their own mental illness. I share it with the world so that someone that might be in the dark places of the mind, like I have been, know they aren’t alone. If you need help, reach out. If you know someone that needs help, help them find help. You don’t have to be a professional to help someone that is thinking about suicide. You only have to get them to someone that is (hospital, police, fire station, National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1.800.273.8255). Helping is easier than you think.

For those of you that might be new to Story of My Life and want to get a bigger picture of my story, below are some links to previous posts that will highlight my journey the last two years.

https://storyofmylife.blog/2016/02/06/battlefield/  (the beginning of my new journey)

Depressed

Suicidal Anonymous

PTSD Moments

My Worst War Memory

Thank you all for your support, I hope that I am returning the favor in some small way here. And thank you for stopping by this week. Good day, God bless.

Dave

Get Philosophized

Philosophy says that the early bird gets the worm. Ok. But the early worm gets eaten. I guess timing is everything. And it is. I used to drive a box truck for a produce company. If my truck wasn’t ready to go when I showed up for work at 4 a.m., I would be running late getting my route done. It was at least an hour drive from my starting point to my first stop. I needed be ahead of the morning traffic. Between Pensacola and Ft Walton Beach, there must have been 372 school zones (I exaggerate, of course, but it sure seemed like it). And if I didn’t leave on time, I would undoubtedly catch every one of those annoying school zones, one of which was less than 100 feet. If I didn’t leave on time, I would be at least an hour late just a few stops into my route. And my leaving on time was contingent upon the night loaders getting their job done and getting the trucks loaded.

On the flip side, when I did leave on time, I would have about an hour wait by my third stop. Nap time! The cab of the truck wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep, but a couple times a week, when the loaders got my truck ready on time, I would enjoy a short cat nap while waiting on the manager of that restaurant to show up and accept the delivery. Sometimes I was early, sometimes I was late. Being the early bird that gets the worm, or the worm that got told by customers he was late, all depended on someone else doing their job.

I really miss that job.

And on the subject of being early, why does my GPS offer me slower routes when I’m driving from Florida to South Carolina and back every month for my army reserve duty? It shows “This route is 34 minutes slower.” “This route is 15 minutes slower.” I’ve seen it give a slower route by an hour and 15 minutes while driving. Why? Why would I want a slower route? If I didn’t care what time I arrived, I wouldn’t be using my GPS. But honestly, I mostly use it for traffic updates and an estimated time of arrival. But really, why try to sell me on a slower route? It’s more than an 8-hour drive one way. I don’t want to go slower. I just want to get there and take a nap.

Another philosophical anomaly is seeing a glass half empty or half full. Who came up with that? I don’t mean to sound judgmental, but that’s just ridiculous. Let me explain. I’m a very analytical person. I need more information than just a cylindrical container being at 50% capacity. The truth is, if you are filling the glass and stop halfway, it’s half full. If it’s full to start with, and you drink half of it, it’s half empty. This same equation works for beer, except that with beer it’s always half empty. No one starts out with only half a beer.

Lastly, let’s look at “I think, therefore, I am.” I like that one. But I still have questions. Do I exist because I think? Or do I think because I exist? What about some of the people we deal with on a daily basis that make us scratch our heads when they think? Come spend a day with me at the airport I work at and you’ll see what I mean. I guess when Descartes came up with “I think, therefore I am,” he didn’t add an addendum that it has to be intelligent thought. I guess his glass was half full.

Thanks for stopping this week and getting philosophized. And since I skipped last week, Happy New Year. May your 2018 be as good as you make it. Well, that statement is an interesting bit of philosophy. Think about that for a while. Good day, God bless.

Dave