Strengths and Disasters

I recently took the CliftonStrengths assessment. I think I’m being monitored. Not even kidding a little.

It is EERIE what they know about me.

I recommend the test. It’s around $20 for the basic test that gives you your top 5 strengths. To get all 34 strengths costs $49. If you can afford it, get the more expensive one. It’s worth it, but only if you really want to know yourself, and have vocabulary and tools with which to express yourself, and gain a roadmap to market and improve your strengths.

I intend to write individual blogs that address all of my strengths, along with my thoughts about them, and how they relate to my background and mental health journey. Also, though, I feel that it’s important to start with why the list feels so impactful to me right now.

I have spent most of my life in a dissociative state. The official diagnosis is Dissociative Identity Disorder, Not Otherwise Specified. I received that diagnosis in the psychiatric hospital, after my most recent crisis in October of 2020, a crisis directly prompted by my employer at the time. (I mention this because it is very relevant to past and current circumstances.) Because that led to me getting much healthier and more stable than I have ever been before, I don’t hold as much resentment as I could, although I am still very angry and frustrated about the whole incident, and that it left me in a very vulnerable place in many ways.

One of the struggles I have had in my life has to do with relationships. I have never fully understood the complexities that underlie friendships, romantic relationships, and workplace acquaintances. I have trouble deciphering nuances, boundaries, and appropriateness within relationships of any kind, and because of my deep desire for intimate emotional connection, and my desire to help people, I often find it difficult to stay in shallow emotional waters.

Combine that with executive dysfunction from my ADHD and you have a very large potential for disaster. VERY large potential. I know, because I have disastered many times in my life. And there’s always been factors at play that I couldn’t understand or explain. Except now, finally, I can.

And it’s amazing to be able to describe what’s going on in my brain. And ironically, it’s helping to make sense of the latest disaster that came on the heels of this week of revelations.

But that’s for another day.

On contemplating the past

It has been a dark few months for me. I don’t have any plausible reason that I can come up with. The nature of mental illness, I suppose. But man, it’s been rough.

My RSD has been off the charts.

I have gone from despair to apathy to anger to contempt to utter dejectedness. Waves and troughs. And it’s happened, as it frequently happens, during some extremely happy events that I have been able to share with my partner and some very good friends.

I have made several new friends, which is a wonderful, satisfying thing for me. It’s also terrifying. Mostly because I always wonder how long the relationships are going to last. I have to think about boundaries, appropriateness, compatibility, remembering details, fearing rejection, fearing misunderstandings, wonder if I’m misinterpreting the nature of the relationship, and the anguish-inducing waiting for responses.

It’s hell.

It’s sheer hell.

And the worst thing about it, for me, is knowing that it’s mostly in my head, and not being able to talk my way out of it. You can’t think your way out of mental illness.

Again- you cannot think your way out of mental illness.

It’s the same as you can’t exercise your way out of heart disease. You can do things to make the condition better, you can take medications to help to stabilize your body, but you cannot just logic your way out of your own head when the disease IS your brain.

I’ve been sick since I was a kid. My development suffered. My relationships suffered. My self-esteem suffered. I didn’t learn things that I should have, and I didn’t know that I didn’t know things.

I’m pretty sure that I was not the best husband, friend, son, person that I could have been. Pretty sure I made some mistakes. REALLY sure that I made a few bad choices along the way.

And eventually, I got diagnosed. Although I got diagnosed with a WHOLE LOT OF THINGS before we figured out what was ACTUALLY going on.

I tried medications. I tried OTHER medications. Some of those medications helped. Some of them very literally almost killed me.

But now I have some sanity. I have some clarity. And I have a whole lot of experiences. And I can look back, and I can see where I have done things wrong, and I can see some of the mistakes I’ve made, and I can start to give myself some grace.

Because if you know me at all, then you know that I’m impulsive (ADHD). I’m desperate for connection (RSD). I’m constantly thinking about death (depression). My mood is always low, even when everything is going good (dysthymia). I’m exhausted constantly (ME/CFS). My brain can’t always keep up (SCT).

And you also know that I am a good person, who wants nothing but the best for everyone and who would never do anything harmful to anyone on purpose. You know that I spent most of my life trying to figure out what in the hell was wrong with me, because I KNEW there was something wrong. You know that I don’t thing things through, that I don’t take things into account, and that I misunderstand a great deal about life, the universe, and relationships, but I NEVER act maliciously, and I never have.

Because I know what it feels like to feel completely isolated and alone and broken.

I know what it’s like to feel like you will never fit in without completely changing everything about yourself, and to even be willing to do that if you could just figure out how.

I understand the blackness, the despondency, and the despair of remembering every wrong act, every misstep, every situation misunderstood, and every fall, trip, and embarrassing thing you’ve every done, and having them replay again and again and again and again, and blaming yourself for all of them.

BUT

I am not who I was. I am healthier. I am much more capable. I have a much greater of understanding of consequences and norms and appearances, although I still struggle to a great degree.

I’m still self-conscious. I’m still awkward. I’m still convinced that I’m going to screw everything up no matter what, despite only trying to do good things. It’s still really hard for me to make friends, to understand boundaries, to figure shit out. But I’m trying. I’m pushing myself. I’m trying new things.

I am who I am today. I am who my brain allows me to be. And I am the best person I can be, all things considered.

Introspection about God

I am curious about something. I wonder if anyone else is.

Have Christians ALWAYS been this selfish?

I think back to what I was taught in Sunday School, and it just. doesn’t. fit.

Where is the Love? Where is the compassion? Where is the humility?

I compare what is happening today to what the Bible teaches, and it’s so out of sync that I feel like it’s another book completely.

At least, it’s out of sync with the NEW Testament. The Old Testament is another story altogether.

As far as I can remember, Jesus never forced people to comply with Him. He didn’t require that people believe as He did, or require His followers to influence others by force or compulsion.

In fact, the whole New Testament was supposed to put the old ways of thinking to rest. It was supposed to be a kinder, gentler, more understanding Gospel. So how did we get to where we are now? How do we explain the pride, the anger, the intolerance of anything that differs from their narrow, self-centered views?

I envision the world that they are creating, and the Heaven that they picture themselves in afterward, and I shudder. I try to picture their God, the one that is satisfied at how they are acting, who is supportive of their attitudes, and who accepts their acts of worship that denigrate and suppress and harm others, and I wonder-

Would I feel comfortable among them?

Would THAT God accept me, knowing my heart?

Would I want to spend an eternity with those people and their God?

And then I inevitably contrast that with their picture of Hell, with all of the sinners and outcasts, and liberals, and such.

I hope there is such an afterlife.

Because spending eternity in THAT Heaven would be Hell for me. And if God is so supportive of how the Christians are…

Then I would feel very comfortable with His counterpart.

I don’t think that THEIR Hell would feel much different than today feels, for me.

At least I would be with my tribe. That in and of itself, would be paradise.

Boiling Point

There’s an allegory I heard a long time ago that seems especially relevant right now, considering last week and last month and last year and last pandemic and last president and the whole world being on fire right now.

If you throw a frog into a pot of boiling water, it will immediately jump out. But if you throw a frog into a pot of tepid water and then slowly raise the temperature to boiling, the frog will boil to death without ever once trying to jump out.

I doubt the story is true. I’m not going to test it out, though. I’m not nearly cruel enough.

However.

If we suppose that the story is applicable to us, it seems that we’re very nearly boiling to death without realizing it.

Near enough that people are starting to die. Literally.

And the mindless masses do nothing.

What have we become?

250 years ago, give or take, we got very fed up with a man telling us what we could or could not do, and imposing taxes and penalties on us without allowing us to have a voice.

Now we seem to be just fine with it.

The simplest solution is for everyone to vote. Every time. Without fail. No matter what.

The other solutions are not nearly as easy.

But we are at a breaking point. Very literally.

Why aren’t we in the streets? Why aren’t we bringing the system down? Where’s the outrage?

I’m not calling for revolution. I’m not calling for armed revolt.

I’m asking why we’re not willing to bring the system to a halt.

What if women absolutely refused to have sex with any men at all until things changed?

What if people stopped working until the corporations started listening to us?

People can’t afford to lose their incomes?

 Band together. Share resources.

People can’t afford to lose their housing?

Live together. Share resources.

People already don’t make living wages. People already can’t afford housing.

People should ALREADY be sharing resources.

How many empty buildings are sitting around, doing nobody any good?

How many empty plots of land could support gardens, tents, and craft workshops?

How many of us could welcome in the poor, the hungry, the suffering?

It’s what our country was supposed to be about.

It’s what christianity was supposed to be about.

It’s the antithesis of capitalism. It’s the antithesis of greed. It’s the antithesis of isolation.

And it’s the right thing to do.

Why aren’t you?

Distracted

It’s been a hard couple of days for me. I’ve been dealing with a situation which is very uncomfortable for me, and is causing some emotions that I am having difficulty naming and sorting. Emotions like:

anger

mistrust

unsafe

injustice

Deja vu

Remembering that my coping skills are still very, very undeveloped, I am trying to give myself grace. I am talking the feelings out with my tribe. I am being supported in new and wondrous ways. But I still feel somewhat stuck.

I was recently reminded that I can be frightening. I am male, I am large, I am dramatic. I can be loud. I wear my feelings on my face. I am large. I appear intimidating. I am tall. I am… did I mention large yet? Yep. k.

I am keenly aware of my maleness, and my size. I can’t do much about either of those things. I also struggle with body dysmorphia, so I see myself as huge AND ugly. SO yeah, I am aware I am Frankenstein’s monster. Thanks so much for the reminder.

I was never allowed to show negative emotions as a child. I always had to appear happy. I learned at a VERY young age that I couldn’t trust grown-ups, not even my own parents. And so I never learned to deal with emotions in a healthy way. Instead, I dissociated.

I got REALLY good at dissociating.

So now I am experiencing my emotions, needing to name and sort them, and manage them, and my reactions to them, for the first time in my life, and my tried and true coping skill is unusable, and my other coping skills are underdeveloped. Oh, and I’m experiencing ADHD symptoms for the first time with great intensity.

BUT I can’t appear upset, or angry, because it frightens people.

Great. Thanks. Any suggestions?

Before, Part 1

I’m learning an awful lot about myself recently. A lot of it is very uncomfortable. None of it is fun to know. And I hate remembering it.

My brain is amazing. My brain is monstrous.

Yesterday I had the dubious pleasure of EMDR therapy.

Not my first session, I’ve been experiencing it since last spring. I’ve processed what feels like a lifetime of experiences so far.

My therapist assures me that we’ve barely touched what’s in there.

What struck me about yesterday’s session is what I used to be like. What kind of child I was before the trauma of life changed me.

I was curious. I was sensitive. I was devout. I was intelligent.

until

I started asking the wrong questions. Innocently, and out of a simple desire to understand.

I was ridiculed about not being masculine enough. I was a crybaby, a wimp, an easy target.

I honestly and sincerely prayed. Nothing changed. Nothing got better. I couldn’t do the things that were expected of me.

I started knowing more than other children. I was excited about learning and knowing, not trying to show off.

And as I became more and more different than the other kids, I closed myself off more and more. I became quiet, withdrawn, isolated. I had very few friends, and I couldn’t figure out how to interact with the few that I had. I didn’t like the things they liked. I wasn’t into cars, guns, sports, or fighting. I liked reading. I liked nature. I liked animals. I liked history.

And so I was an outsider. At school, at home, everywhere.

I realize that I’m not the only child who experienced these feelings. I know that most kids go through periods of time where they feel alone or different.

I’m not them.

My brain isn’t their brain.

I can still remember, word for word, the poem I had to memorize for second grade. We had to present them to the class. There were three poems to choose from.

I memorized all three. I still can recite two of them without even pausing.

I can tell you the social security numbers of my current and former wives. And the social security number of my first girlfriend. And my first driver’s license number. And my library card number. And the lines from my first church play. And the songs from my first junior high musical.

So I KNOW my brain used to work really really well.

I want that back. I want that potential back. I want that capability back.

I want to be who I was before I was convinced I was nobody.

Anniversary

(TW: suicide)

One year ago today I set out to kill myself.

Obviously, I failed.

One year ago today, I overdosed on several different medications, wandered into the woods, found a rusty piece of dull metal, and spent hours sawing at my wrist, getting deep enough that the ER doctor expressed confusion as to why I hadn’t cut my artery, because the wound was deeper than the blood vessel sat.

There was no hesitation. There was no half-hearted attempt. I don’t remember everything about that week, but I DO clearly recall the resolve. I meant to die.

Obviously, I failed.

I’m much better today. I’ve had a year of rigorous therapy, consistency in taking my meds, and I set a goal to be perfect at home, work, and play because I had a diagnosis, I had motivation, and I am intelligent enough to think my way into mental health and happiness.

Obviously, I failed.

It’s been a rough year.

It’s also been a wonderful year.

I have so much more clarity about myself, my identity, and my support system than I have ever had. I’m much quicker to say no to things that I fear will overwhelm me. I’m also much quicker to say yes to things that I’m interested in trying.

I still struggle. I struggle with self-doubt, with managing my symptoms, with communicating with others, and with working consistently. I am more distracted, less focused, and more scattered than I ever have been.

Obviously, I still fail.

My go-to coping mechanism has been dissociation. It started when I was very young, and I got so adept at using it that I didn’t even realize that I was still doing it. But I was. I dissociated on a daily basis, sometimes for weeks or even months at a time, and I had alternate identities that would show their heads. There are gaps in my memory even through recent times. Although my brain now knows how dangerous it is for me to dissociate, and how much better life is even if there are still negative occurrences- I still find myself at times totally absorbed in something and unaware of my surroundings for brief periods of time. Nothing at all like before, but I still dissociate at a much lesser extent. I still struggle.

And because dissociation was my only coping mechanism, and because it kept my ADHD symptoms in check, now that my brain is guarding AGAINST dissociation, my ADHD symptoms have exploded. I’m fidgety, I have racing thoughts, I can’t accomplish anything I set out to. It’s like I developed ADHD overnight, and I have no skills to use to deal with these symptoms. I’m learning as I go.

Obviously, I still fail.

I recently had a situation come up that caused me to feel nervous about the future, and was related to my new-found symptoms, and left me wondering if I was really good enough. I started thinking that I wasn’t making as much progress as I had thought. I was feeling self-doubt and inadequacy. And, for the first time in a year, I started having fleeting thoughts about dying.

I’m not suicidal. I’m not dissociated. I’m still doing well, going to therapy (tomorrow, in fact), and taking my meds. My support system is still strong and in place.

And yet, this event sparks the doubt that I will ever be well, cured, or able to live without meds, therapy, or people watching over me.

Obviously, I will still fail.

And that’s… okay. It’s really okay.

You see, Mental illness, in my case, is like unto diabetes, or hypertension, or any number of life- threatening illnesses that people develop. They can’t “happy thought” these conditions away. They can’t “cure” themselves. They have to manage meds, checkups, and they need to be monitored by doctors, and themselves, and to a great extent, others.

There is no cure. There IS no cure. There is NO cure. There is no CURE.

I will die mentally ill. Sooner or later. I will either die BECAUSE of it, or die DESPITE it.

I’m working on the latter.

I’m terrified of the former.

SO, to you who have mental illness, I get it. I get YOU. I am here, I am happy to listen, and I would be honored to be on your team.

SO, to you who don’t have mental illness, I get it. I get THEM. I am here, I am happy to discuss and answer questions, and I would be honored to to be on your team.

Because that’s what life is. Finding your team. Finding you tribe. Reaching out to others.

At least, that’s what I think.

If you are having suicidal thoughts and need to talk with someone, please contact the Missouri Crisis Line at (573)445-5035 or (888)761-4357, Or type HAND to 839-863.

If you are interested in learning more about my story, or about mental illness, or about resources, please reach out to me. You can message me here, or find my Facebook and message me there. Please leave comments and please share if you feel it would be helpful.

Without a Paddle

SO here’s a thing. Something that nobody ever told me would happen. Something unexpected, and something very disturbing.

I have no coping mechanism.

Not anymore.

I USED to have one. A very, very, good and effective one. One that worked so well, I didn’t even know it was there.

I used to dissociate.

I was a dissociating maniac.

I was so good at it that I could have entire MONTHS where I wouldn’t remember anything. I lost JOBS without knowing remembering why. I even moved out of my HOUSE into a rental and have NO memory of how I got the house to rent. I was just… there. With a new job, new house, new dog, and a bunch of dishes and furniture I had never seen before.

I STILL haven’t figured it all out.

But now, that coping skill has been deactivated to a great extent. I just can’t seem to be able to disconnect like I used to. My brain won’t stop being present.

It SUCKS SO BAD.

Last weekend my wife and I went camping with some of our family. We went to a river, and knew that it would likely be busy.

heh.

The entire population of Missouri were drunk and loud and playing country music and rap music and 80s pop music at the same time, with competing volumes, and they were all TEN FEET FROM OUR CAMPSITE.

Now last summer, your boy Cory would have been able to completely ignore all of that, tend to the fire, cook the meals, wash the dishes, and interacted with his campmates with no problem. He just would have tuned all else out. he would have been IN THE ZONE.

No more.

Instead, he was a quivering, emotional, tempestuous wreck. I could not focus on anything. I could not help but be present for the entire excruciating experience. Every second. For the entire day. The only time that I had any relief was when my wife suggested that I put my earbuds in and play loud music.

my ears are still ringing, by the way.

I was exhausted by the time I finally had to run to the car and drive away. I didn’t have any way to stop my brain. I couldn’t cope. I fled.

I never took into account that unhealthy coping mechanisms, while they might be damaging or limiting or “unhealthy”, WORK. They do their job. They are effective. They protect you. And when you are growing and changing and developing, and you stop using them…

It can be disorienting. It can be frustrating. I can be painful, for yourself and for others around you.

It caused me to run away. It also caused me to feel selfish.

I was so focused on my experience, on controlling my impulses, on trying to find something that would work, that I could not recognize how it was affecting everyone else. I was overstimulated to a degree I have never realized was possible.

Is this what healthy and normal feel like? Cause it sucks.

Can I PLEASE go back to being unhealthy and unhappy?

Session 1

This is not going to be long or detailed at all. But I want to get some thoughts down before I pass out.

My head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton. I have a headache. I’m exhausted. All of this is expected.

What I WASN’T expecting at all was that my brain won’t shut. off. at. all.

I’ve never had ADHD brain, and I’ve always wondered about that. I even questioned the diagnosis at times, even though most other symptoms fit. (PLEASE, can we develop a simple blood test or something??)

But something happened during the session. Actually, it started before the session.

Someone asked me what dissociation FELT LIKE to me.

I had to try to think about the processes that took place when I went away. I tried to visualize what happened. And I came up with a very interesting and unexpected analogy- a computer.

When a computer is running slow, the first thing that a technician does is look for hidden programs running in the background. Programs that don’t “appear” on the screen, but they can suck up memory and slow down processing speed a great deal.

I have a LOT of background programs. They suck up A LOT of memory.

And that’s not even just when I’m dissociating. That is happening constantly. It’s how my brain protects itself.

Everything that I might possibly think or feel gets sent to that hidden processor and evaluated for potential risk and necessity. If it’s something I need to feel or think about it gets sent up to my consciousness to be used. If it ISN’T necessary to become a conscious thought or emotion, it might get processed and used. If not, it gets stored somewhere else in the system.

It doesn’t go away. Just gets stored.

I know all of this because over the last eight months, I’ve felt it work. I’ve SEEN it work. Sometimes, I have felt it work so well that I’ve experienced my brain REMOVE files from my consciousness to my unconsciousness.

It was not a good feeling.

So, back to the ADHD brain.

During my session my thoughts started bouncing like crazy. Uncontrollably. All over the place.

The whole rest of the day my synapses were firing constantly. My head ached from the feeling. I felt scattered and unfocused. I was again reassured that this is normal.

I don’t necessarily feet BETTER yet. But I DO see how I might, after intensive work.

As always, I’m happy to answer questions, or have discussions. You can contact me any time.

And thank you. Thank you so much for your support.

Anxiety

Ok friends.

After 8 months of pre-trauma therapy work, tomorrow is my first EMDR session. I’m feeling a mix of things- anxiety, excitement, and hope primarily- but also, the preparation for tomorrow has stirred up a lot of traumatic memories from my youth. Most of them revolve around experiences I had in school.

Most of them would seem innocuous if I were to relate them. They would seem more or less like the experiences suffered by most school kids.

That may be so.

That doesn’t matter.

My brain has been actively reliving those experiences since they happened.

Starting in kindergarten.

I have been reliving, reexperiencing, and reacting to things that happened to me when I was 5.

I’m 50.

I finally have a support system.

I finally have loving friends.

I finally have the ability to acknowledge that I am not a terrible, unworthy, disgusting person.

Although that’s still a daily battle. Some days I just can’t do it.

But more and more, I can believe that there’s goodness inside of me, rather that just shit.

I’m tired of believing that I’m worthless.

I’m tired of thinking the utter worst about myself.

I’m tired of hating seeing myself in the mirror, or in pictures.

So I’m going to therapy tomorrow.

It’s gonna be a long, hard journey.

But you know what?

I think I’m worth it.