I’m still adjusting to my parents living out of state. It’s been almost two weeks since they moved. They have a potential buyer for my childhood house. So almost all of my ties to the village I grew up in are gone. Almost all of my childhood friends moved out of state. My grandparents are dead. And I think all the old teachers I had are now retired. My twenty year high school reunion will be next summer. I don’t know if I’m going. I didn’t go the ten or fifteen year ones. I guess after years of fighting mental illness, my high school years seem like someone else’s life. Needless to say I didn’t accomplish most of my goals I made when I was a teenager. But I don’t know how you plan for a mental illness. I had to figure things out as I went. Spent several years wandering in the dark making tons of mistakes. At this point in life, I’m happy to be here and coherent. I could have easily wound up in prison or dead by this point. I guess I’m proud that I didn’t fall through the cracks in the system and become a statistic. Yes, much has changed since I left my childhood home.
Spent Thanksgiving weekend by myself. Other than going to get medications refilled I didn’t brave the stores on Black Friday. After I got my meds I spent the weekend watching college football and playing computer games. As my Nebraska Huskers finished with a losing record we won’t be going to any bowl game. But there’s always next season. I did buy a Christmas gift for myself online on Black Friday.
Saw my psych doctor a week ago. We made some adjustments to the medication. He and I both think I’m too content to spend most of my time alone or asleep. So we reduced one med and started a new one that not only helps with compulsive behavior, but is suppose to actually be kind of a stimulant. For the almost twenty years I’ve been taking anti psychotic meds, most of them made me drowsy. That’s why I always took them at bed time. I’m able to sleep longer stretches lately as I don’t have as bad back pain anymore. For weeks I was sleeping only three hours at a time and sleeping half of the night in my easy chair. But haven’t had the problem for a week now.
I also noticed that I tend to me more lethargic and sluggish on days I eat a lot of sugar or grain products. Considering how much I like spaghetti and pastas, this has forced me to change my cold weather eating routines. I now eat more potatoes and soup when I’m in the mood for something to warm me up that will stick with me for awhile. I have found that as I age I have to be more mindful about what I eat. Caffeine buzzes me longer than even five years ago. Breads and grains make me sluggish and sleepy. Too much spicy food upsets my stomach and makes me kind of irritable. And don’t get me started on most fast food. I used to eat fast food three to four times a week. But that changed about a year ago. I’ve eaten McDonald’s only twice in 2018 and KFC only once. And Taco Bell just irritates my stomach too much anymore. I’ve had to adapt my eating habits over the last few years. But I do cook most of my own meals now.
I stay in contact with my friends over the phone and facebook but not much else as far as friends go these days. I miss many aspects of college, one of them being just being to spend time with friends and even casual acquaintances on a whim. I had a Japanese friend who used to make the best spicy chicken using sauces and spices I couldn’t even find in America. I had a friend from South Dakota who worked at a fine steak house in the Black Hills during the summers who was an excellent cook. He used to make the best Broccoli and Cheese soup in the winter. Since we weren’t allowed to have electric grills in the dorm, he used to cook steaks only when we were at his mom’s house during summer break. There was an all night truck stop a few miles from campus that served the best chicken fried steaks and clam chowder with 99 cent bottomless cups of coffee. One of my friends used to get kind of annoyed because one of the waitresses would flirt with him even though he was married and wore his wedding ring at all times. Since I had a wide range of friends, most of whom had as wide of interests as I did, it wouldn’t be uncommon for us to be chatting about anything from baseball stats to Austrian economics to Medieval military tactics to modern geopolitics to science advances all in the same conversation.
I was in college when the first human genome was completed. Even we had no idea what that meant when that was finished. I was in college when the first privately funded space flight took place too. Now fifteen years later private companies and several different national space agencies are talking about building bases on the moon and even Mars. It was also in college I bought my first broadband internet and cell phone. Those things look like they belong in a museum not even twenty years later. We had several guys in my dorm get in trouble with the phone and cable company for having pirated internet and cable in their dorm rooms. Some guy in my dorm figured out how to get all the cable channels, including the premium channels, and fastest dial up internet for free and let a bunch of guys in on his secrets. Well the school and the cable company found out and threatened legal action. Kind of glad I didn’t in on that one. I have no clue what college kids are pirating anymore.
I miss my friends I admit. But at least I have my memories. And thanks to social media it’s far easier to keep in touch now. My father’s biggest regrets are that he didn’t keep in contact with his college and Air Force friends more before social media went mainstream. Fortunately I don’t have to make that mistake.
Spending Thanksgiving week by myself. I had my celebration a week ago as kind of a going away party for my parents. I guess I don’t mind spending the week alone as I’ve spent much of my adult life alone. I haven’t had a roommate since 2004 when I graduated college. I would actually feel kind of strange having to share a roof and four walls with someone, especially if that someone and I got on each others nerves.
This isn’t the first major holiday I spent alone. Several years ago I stayed home when my parents were hosting it because I felt a major breakdown coming on. I wasn’t going to have a break in front of my niece and nephews, especially when they were still too young to go to school. It was a sad deal in that it was also my grandfather’s last Thanksgiving. He was diagnosed with cancer a few days later and died a couple months after. I was fortunate to been able to host the last couple Christmas celebrations with my parents at my apartment. Not sure what I’m doing this year as all my family is now living out of state. But I have a few weeks to figure that out. It could be I get snowed in and not able to go anywhere. This time a year the weather is always a factor where I live.
Starting to sleep less again. But I’m not staying up all night either. I usually go to sleep around 10pm and am up usually around 2 am. I prattle around for a couple hours and then go back to sleep for another couple hours. I’m usually awake for good by 8:30 am. I have been feeling quite stable lately too. I’ve now gone a full year without a major breakdown. First time I can claim that ever since I was in high school.
In spite feeling better overall, I really have no desire to go anywhere or socialize much. I’m content to pretty much stay at home much of the time. Home is where I feel comfortable and accepted, even if I am alone. I don’t like socializing in person much anymore. I’m almost scared of other people now, especially people I don’t know. Maybe it’s a new aspect of my mental illness. I don’t have the volatile mood swings but just have no motivation to see anyone or try anything new.
Perhaps I really am depressed and not wanting to go anywhere or see anyone is the way it’s being manifest. I don’t feel an overwhelming sense of despondency or sadness, but I probably do have both. I feel no need to socialize because, in my diseased mind, I already know the outcome of said socializing: We will talk about dumb and mundane things and not much will be accomplished from the meeting. I guess I’m used to not much being accomplished. I’m used to people outside of family not coming through on what they say they’ll deliver. It’s like I expect things to not work anymore. I’m probably suffering from apathy too. I’m just too tired to fight against it anymore. I’m used to things not working like they should. I’ve seen it my entire life I guess. That’s one of the reasons I don’t understand the average person’s obsession with politics or working; people talk all the time yet nothing really changes and certainly not for the better.
I would almost swear that people are intentionally screwing up and doing what they know won’t work. I can’t believe that people are so stupid as to do what they know won’t work over and over and yet be duped by every charlatan and con artist who comes along offering the same tripe with different packaging and names. I guess that’s why I don’t socialize anymore. I’ve seen it all before and I’ve heard it all before. But nothing changes for the better. The only real positive changes I’ve seen, at least in my life time, have come via science, technology advances, and humanitarian efforts. Yet no one wants to talk about these. But it is science, tech, and humanitarians that are making up for the gridlock in politics and the loss of trust in education, law, and religion. I guess that people don’t pay attention to what really makes a positive difference.
For generations we have heard old men on their death beds lamenting how they spent too much time at work and not enough time with their spouses and children or grandchildren. Maybe it’s finally starting to get through to the younger workers who seek a work life balance more than my generation or my parents and grandparents did. I think I’ll say something like “Too bad I didn’t get the corner office or the company car when I was working” or “Why did I take the day off to take my nephews to the museum? There was money to be made, dang it” just to break up the somber mood and my way of saying kiss off the old style Puritan work ethic that seems to believe that those who don’t work themselves into an early grave are going to hell.
I don’t regret not having a regular job anymore. Most people I know who got rich didn’t do so by working forty hours a week for someone else. They got that way by working for themselves and starting their own businesses. But even as rich as some people I knew were, I still didn’t see them take with them to the afterlife. Even the Pharaohs had their graves robbed over the centuries. Get a large pile of gold and jewels only to have marauders run off with it or have it collect dust in some museum half a world away thousands of years later. Hard work may have never killed anyone, but neither did enjoying the small things of life that money, power, and prestige can’t acquire.
Hosted my parents for an early Thanksgiving celebration last Sunday. They brought the food and I provided the place. They spent most of the day here. I also received a stationary exercise bike from them. Since they are moving to a suburb and are getting rid of some of the things they have no need for now, I got an exercise bike and a couple desk chairs from them. Used the exercise bike a few times already. It’s good to be exercising regularly again. I had fallen out of the daily exercise habit after my back started flaring up a few months ago. I was pleasantly surprised that peddling on a stationary bike doesn’t hurt my back like walking does. Used to be most of my exercise was walking in the park or old downtown. I would usually walk the hallways in my apartment complex when it was too icy or cold to walk outside. But I’m starting to feel more decent after only a few days of regular exercise again.
While I enjoyed hosting my parents for Thanksgiving, it was also a bittersweet gathering. That was the last time I get to see them when they are living nearby. Even as much as I don’t like driving, I could still get in my car and be at their house in less than two hours. But now that they are moving I won’t be getting to see them on a whim. At least until I find a low income place that’s not in a tough neighborhood. I may have to find a place in a small town nearby if the places in the city and the suburbs are too questionable. I have been lucky to have had the good luck with low income housing that I have experienced in the last twelve years. I’ve been fortunate to have good managers who will quickly and decisively deal with people who don’t pay the rent or are troublemakers. I don’t have any true complaints about my complex. I can be left alone when I want to be. I can socialize when I want to. And most people don’t give me problems and I try to avoid being a problem for others. It’s seemed to work or I wouldn’t still be here after twelve years. The only place I’ve lived in longer than my current apartment is my childhood home.
I haven’t bee out much for the last few days. I guess I’m still adapting to my parents moving to be near my brother and his family. I hope to be joining them eventually. But right now I probably won’t be making any moves, at least not until the end of winter.
Other than my parents I haven’t been socializing much lately. Seems that many of my friends are more depressed and anxious than usual. Normally I would be annoyed and irritated by people just being in rude and obnoxious moods while I would be sympathetic to those who were depressed and anxious. I try to connect with these friends but I can’t tell that I’m getting through to them. Sometimes I feel as though I’m wasting my breath and that my friends really don’t want my company.
Hopefully this is just the illness part of my mind speaking. But it does concern me that so many of my friends are having issues with depression and burnout. It didn’t use to be this way. It use to be that I was the one with the depression and burnout and my friends were the ones doing alright. Now the tables are turned. I can tell my friends and family who were probably annoyed with my depression and hangups in my younger years that I appreciate your efforts to keep me in the loop. I especially appreciate you inviting me to functions that I probably wouldn’t just show up to on my own. I may secretly begrudge social activities at first but once things get started I’m glad I participated. But your efforts to include me and encourage me did not go unnoticed or unappreciated. I may not say it often enough, but I do appreciate my family and friends. I may not keep in contact as much as I would like. In some cases, I imagine my friends may be annoyed by how much I try to stay in contact. But I don’t have many options for decent socializing.
I appreciate my friends and family. I hurt for them when they are suffering and struggling. Such is the price of being naturally empathic in a time and place that doesn’t value empathy and connection. But it is kind of strange helping my friends out with their depression and stress issues now. I imagine that since many of my friends are in their late 30s and early 40s, this is prime years for the mid life crisis. I guess I had my major crisis in my teens and twenties while my peers were getting started in their careers and still dating and thinking about marriage. It’s now my turn to be the support system to those who need it. I want to believe that my empathy and support of my friends in their struggles is appreciated. I want to believe that the fears that say my friends would rather I go away are just my illness creeping back in, and I do think that it is. But there are the moments of weakness still.
I’ve been sleeping more than I would prefer lately. But I have found over the years if I want to sleep more than normal, there is usually a good reason for it. I’ve learned to listen to my body and give it what is says it needs more often. Learning to live with mental illness is mainly a trial and error kind of thing. It wasn’t learned immediately. Sadly mental illness is one of those tests that is impossible to study for. I had no idea what having schizophrenia meant when I was first diagnosed almost twenty years ago. But then, there is no way I could have known just by reading some books and going to a psychiatrist. Mental illness effects everything about a life it inflicts just by the nature of the illness. And since the human brain is the most complex piece of biological machinery we have seen (at least unless we discover alien intelligences superior to our own), it is one of those we still don’t know much about.
One of the things that gives me hope, maybe not for myself so much as future generations afflicted with mental illness problems, is that we are learning more about the human brain every day. I don’t know if I’ll live to see the fruition of much of this research, but I am encouraged that there is now a push to learn this and see if we can design better treatments with fewer side effects. As much as I am appreciative of what my anti psych treatment has done for my mental state, there has been a price I had and am still having to pay for this stability.
One of the side effects of my psych treatments is that I gained a lot of weight over the years. I won’t go into exact numbers but I will say I weigh at least one hundred pounds more than I did when I was first diagnosed. Yet, I was for all purposes not functioning when I was diagnosed. I was having mental breakdowns two to three times a week, I could sleep only a couple hours a night, I wanted to spend all my time alone and just avoid people, and I couldn’t concentrate long enough to even read a single page of a book. I guess my options were I could keep my physical health but be completely dysfunctional mentally or I could regain my mental stability but have a weakened body because of it. Not optimal choices by any means. But I’m glad I opted for the better mental health. Otherwise I’d probably be dead or in prison.
Even though my physical health has declined over the years, in part because of the treatment’s side effects and the nature of the illness itself, I consider the price to be worth it. At least for me the price of losing much of my physical vitality was worth the price of keeping myself together mentally. I have also lost most interest in sex and socializing in person because of the illness. I haven’t dated in at least ten years and I don’t like going to social functions much anymore. But I guess there are always trade offs. I’m actually glad that I was not as ruled by my hormones as most younger men. It saved me much headache and heartache, especially in my late twenties and early thirties when it became obvious to me that I would never have a wife or children through no fault of my own.
I am not anti marriage or anti family. I’m quite the opposite actually. I see my brother and his wife and children as well as my cousins with their spouses and children and I see that, if done properly, family is the best thing that can happen to a person. I think it really does have a calming effect on people, young men especially, and forces people to be more long term thinkers than they normally would. I would have loved to had a wife and a couple kids with the picket fence and apple pie kind of life. But with the mental illness and the hangups involved, I know I would make a lousy husband and father. As it was I couldn’t manage a minimum wage job with my mental illness even though I was an honors graduate in high school. So the next best thing is to write about my experiences with mental illness as my purpose for my work and be a good son to my parents and a good uncle to my brother’s kids. I’m interested to see where this all leads.