Through The Storm

Work is crazy busy. I’m visiting my father in hospice a lot. Helping Dad tie up some loose ends on his real-estate interests has become a full-time job in itself.

It would be easy, in this crazy time of life, to skip doctor appointments, binge-eat or climb into a bottle.

Mood music:

Admittedly, my eating has been less than stellar. It’s the opposite of binging at this point; my appetite cuts out a lot and I skip meals. But I haven’t binged and I haven’t had a drink. How I’ve gotten this far without those things happening is anyone’s guess. Call it luck. Call it will. Maybe a little of both.

I have been making an effort to keep it all under control.

For two Thursdays in a row I had two medical appointments on the calendar. This past Thursday, for example, I had a chiropractic appointment and a psychotherapy appointment. Work was busy and I wanted that time to keep working, but I kept my appointments.

That may be why I haven’t crashed and burned, even though my head feels like it’s on fire when I know there’s a lot of work to do.

It’s been said that people like me need to take things a day at a time. When you have OCD, one day at a time is an alien concept. But I’m trying it out.

In the day-at-a-time spirit, I’m doing fine today. Tomorrow? I only know that I’ll do my best when I get there.

"Savage Namaste" by EddieTheYeti
“Savage Namaste” by EddieTheYeti

Crosses Suck. It’s What We Do With ‘Em That Counts

Crosses aren’t nice things. We all have them. But they make us who we are.

Mood music:

Jesus carried his Cross to redeem the world. The way we carry our Crosses define us.

We can complain that we are victims and that God is cruel. Or we can carry our Crosses like Jesus did, and turn adversity into strength. We can learn from our suffering and strive each day to be a blessing to others.

I always try to do the latter. I often fall to the former.

But I press on, because it’s the least I can do for the King who died for my sins.

Below: Art by EddieTheYeti

Pierced_by_EddieTheYeti

Silent_Compassion_by_EddieTheYeti

 

Psychodelic_Jesus_2_by_EddieTheYeti

 

piercings_by_eddietheyeti-d5lnszi

New OCD Diaries Banner

So, you might have noticed something different about the blog’s appearance in recent days.

Your eyes do not deceive you. That IS a new banner.

It’s the work of Eddie Mize, a security professional popularly known as EddieTheYeti. I’ve written a lot about his art and have done a lot of posts where I put words to his images. Think of the new banner as a continuation of that project.

unnamed

Like the last banner, this one captures the light and dark sides of life that I try to capture in the blog daily. On the left is an angel carrying a cross. On the right is a demon. I’m in the middle, constantly being tugged from one side to the other, with the goal of being with the angel most of the time. The demon waits, knowing that sooner or later I’ll make a mistake. Eddie also gave me a pair of wings and a sickle, further illustrating the struggle.

I like it, because it really captures the point of this whole exercise.

Not everyone will like it. But then the same can be said about the posts I write.

Anatomy of an Identity Crisis

When a sibling’s death turns the baby of the family into the oldest son, you get an identity crisis filled with anger and confusion.

Mood music:

I’ve written at length about my brother Michael, who died of an asthma attack when I was 13. That experience will test any kid, and I was no exception. The loss infused a deep reservoir of fear and anxiety in me that would bubble up many times over the years.

But something else happened that would make me feel strange and alone for a long time.

I started my life as the youngest of three kids, the proverbial baby of the family. Michael was the oldest, and in the Brenner family much has always been expected of the oldest son.

My father was the middle child of his generation, but he was the only son. My grandfather, who came off a boat from the former Soviet Union with all the typical old-school values, expected the world of my father. As my grandfather descended into old age and illness in the mid-1960s, my father became increasingly responsible for the family business.

Growing up, my older brother became the one my father leaned on the most. Michael was encouraged to chart his own course and was studying to be a plumber, but he was also expected to help out with the family business and do a lot of the grunt work at home.

I was the baby, and a sick and spoiled one at that. By age eight I was in and out of the hospital with dangerous flare-ups of Crohn’s Disease. Because of that, I was coddled a lot.

The result was a lower-than-average maturity level for my age. At age 10 I acted like I was 5 sometimes. I would crawl into bed with my father for snuggles, like a toddler might do.

My maturity level hadn’t changed much by the time I hit 13. I probably regressed even further right after my brother died. But as 1984 dragged on, I was slowly pulled into the role of oldest son.

Everything that was expected of my brother became expected of me, and I wasn’t mentally equipped to deal with it. My brother had a lot of street smarts that I lacked.

As I descended into my confusing and angry teen years, I would be sent on deliveries for the family business. I’d get flustered and lose my sense of direction. One time my father sent me to Chelsea for a package. It was 4:30 and the place I was going to was closing at 5. I got there at 5:10 and had to drive back to Saugus without a package. I felt humiliated and ashamed.

As I entered my 20s, all that immaturity and feeling of inadequacy hardened into an angry, rebellious streak. I gave in to a variety of addictive impulses.

As I got older and worked on myself, the confusion and anger gave way to gratitude. The hard lessons of going from youngest child to oldest son have served me well.

I now have a lot of responsibilities with work and family, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. For all the rebelling, my experiences gave me a strong work ethic. But like my maturity, it just took longer to emerge.

Holding My Dead Innocence by EddieTheYeti

Holding My Dead Innocence” by EddieTheYeti. Read more of my ongoing series with EddieTheYeti.

The Imperfect Art of Coming Out

As new readers find this blog, they often ask the question I’ve heard many times before: Why the hell did I out myself? Wasn’t I afraid people would blackball me at work? Don’t I worry that I’ll be defined by my struggle with OCD above all else?

It’s a fair question.

Mood music:

First, let’s get the notions of courage and bravery off the table. Some have used those words to describe what I’m doing, and I appreciate that. But I really don’t think it’s that. Like I’ve said before, my grandfather parachuting behind enemy lines at the start of the D-Day invasion was courage.

I’m  doing this more because the point arrived where, for the sake of my own sanity, I had to start being myself as openly and honestly as I can. Honesty can be tough for people who deal with mental illness and addiction. But I decided I had to do better.

Read more on this in “The Liar’s Disease.”

Admittedly, some of the motivation is selfish. We OCD types have overdeveloped egos and tend to go digging for attention. It’s hard to admit that, but it’s the truth. Being open about that forces me to keep myself in check. It’s also an invitation for those around me to call me out on acts of ego and selfishness.

The biggest reason for doing this, without question, is my faith. I realized some time ago that when you toss the skeletons from your closet into the daylight, they turn to dust. Big, sinister stigmas become very small indeed. Then you can move on.

I didn’t arrive at this viewpoint easily. It took years of dirty work.

With my faith comes a need to serve others. In this case, I accumulated experiences that might be of help to other sufferers. Sharing wasn’t exactly something I wanted to do; it was something I had to do.

We’re all in this together. Many good people have helped me along the way. Trying to help someone else is the very least I could do. In the final analysis, we all help each other.

Getting it all out of the head and into this blog has certainly been helpful, so thanks for indulging me.

Did I risk my career to do this? I don’t think so.

That said, I don’t think I’d be doing this if I still worked for The Eagle-Tribune. The newroom’s culture wouldn’t have allowed for it. I have no idea if the culture has changed, but I suspect not.

I’ve gotten a ton of support from those I work with. That was true when I started this five years ago, during another job, and it’s true today, in my current job.

Does that mean everyone should put their demons out in the open as I have?

It’s not going to be the right decision for everyone to make. There are a lot of honorable reasons for people to keep their demons private. In many cases, the veil is what you use to protect others as well as yourself. But my veil blew away in the storm that was my life. Walking forward without it was all I could do.

As the line in Mötley Crüe’s “Home Sweet Home” goes, “My life is an open book, for the whole world to read.”

For my own development as a human being, I think it’s best that way.

Close to My Heart by EddieTheYetiClose to My Heart” by EddieTheYeti. Read more of my ongoing series with EddieTheYeti.

EddieTheYeti’s Images, My Words: Chapter 1

I’ve been releasing posts as part of a project where I put my feelings to images created by artist and infosec pro Eddie Mize, more popularly known as EddieTheYeti.

The project will continue indefinitely, but here’s a compilation of what’s been done so far. Think of it as chapter 1.

Mood music:

EddieTheYeti: Art as Mental Therapy

I sucked at a lot of things as a kid, but I could draw. It was the one thing that always got me compliments from people who otherwise ridiculed me. Those drawings were an exercise in emotion. A good example of that is the Paul Revere Owl of Rage I wrote about a while back. Writing eventually replaced drawing, though I’ve maintained a life-long appreciation for art that captures emotion. Which brings me to Eddie Mize, also known as EddieTheYeti.

An EddieTheYeti Christmas

Every year, I have trouble finding my Christmas spirit. I’ve written a lot about why that is, and 2014 was no different. But I feel like God is throwing me more clues than usual. One such clue came as I was reviewing some works from Eddie Mize.

Remorse? I Have It

Here’s the thing about remorse: You can’t change what’s in the past. You can let the memories rip you apart, or you can learn from the experiences and invest it in being a better person.

Turning Mental Disorder into a Superpower

Instead of fighting some mental disorders, such as OCD or ADHD, picture yourself accepting and even embracing them. Then learn to use your disorder to your advantage.

Why Can’t They Just Snap Out Of It?

For those who don’t experience or understand depression, it can be hard to understand the duration of someone’s melancholy and why, after a while, they can’t just snap out of it.

Forgiveness: Trash Removal for the Soul

Seeking and giving forgiveness is essential if you want to become a better person. But it’s hard and often seen as a green light for more abuse.

When Anger Was All The Rage

I had a vicious temper when I was younger. To call it a byproduct of OCD, depression and addiction would be pushing it, because I think the temper would have been there even without the mental illness.

Image drawn with Sharpie of man in suit with the top of head exploding
“Relief Valve” by EddieTheYeti

Remorse? I Have It

Recently, I started exploring the feelings that EdditTheYeti’s art raises in me. On Monday, I focused on “Prayer” and “Pierced.” Today, I’ll look at “Remorse.”

Mood music:

http://youtu.be/-hkmxKA-rK4

“Remorse”

This picture was created with ink, wine, lime juice, coffee, tea, cola, soy sauce, hot sauce, and, as Eddie writes, a thought about what has passed. The creature in the picture hangs its head low, eyes too mired in the past to see the present.

Remorse by EddieTheYeti

Regrets? I have them.

Some people say they have none, but I never believe them. Even when life has worked out for the best, there are still those moments in life we would happily see erased.

Some of my biggest regrets:

  • That I didn’t see the full depth of a best friend’s depression until it was too late.
  • That I’ve been an asshole at certain points in my career, especially during the newspaper days.
  • That I couldn’t do more to end some family estrangements — impasses in which I was far from blameless.
  • That I didn’t get more time to learn from my older brother.
  • That I’ve fallen to addiction so many times.

But here’s the thing about regrets: You can’t change what’s in the past. You can let the memories rip you apart, or you can learn from the experiences and invest it in being a better person.

The beast eventually has to raise its head, refocus its eyes and move on. Otherwise, it will wither and die.

I chose the former to the latter long ago. The thing is, despite my regrets, I really wouldn’t change a thing. Those experiences made me the man I am today. And despite the flaws that remain, I like who I am.

An EddieTheYeti Christmas

Every year, I have trouble finding my Christmas spirit. I’ve written a lot about why that is, and this year is no different. But I feel like God is throwing me more clues than usual.

Mood music:

The first clue came from my wife. We were discussing my father’s ongoing health problems and I noted how that was contributing to what I see as the same old pattern of shitty things happening during the holidays.

Erin noted, rightly, that this season isn’t about having a constant warm glow in the belly and not having a care in the world. It’s about celebrating the second chance Christ’s birth gave humanity. A lot of people have a hard time with the concept and the faith, but it is what Erin and I believe. She’s just better at seeing it than I am this time of year.

The second clue came as I was reviewing some works from Eddie Mize, known in the infosec and art communities as EddieTheYeti. I recently vowed to do a series on his art and the feelings it stirs in me. My faith is a good place to start.

A disclaimer before I go further: My take on Eddie’s art won’t necessarily be the same as what he was thinking and feeling when making these works. We haven’t discussed religion, and I don’t know what his beliefs are. This exercise is about what his work brings out of me. The results may well be light years from what he intended.

Which brings me to two of his works.

“Prayer”

Prayer by EddieTheYeti: an angel with its arms reaching for the heavens

The look on the angel’s face is sad, not at all characteristic of an angel. I’ve carried that frown a lot lately, even I feel like the warm glow of Christmas should be shooting out from my fingertips. I still believe that if I keep Christ close everything will work out.

The angel reminds me that in the face of sadness and despair, there is always hope. I’m a flawed person, but Christ never gives up on me.

“Pierced”

Pierced by EddieTheYeti: Jesus' feet nailed to the Cross

For those who don’t believe, it’s a hard concept to wrap the head around: Christ allowing himself to be killed in one of the most brutal ways imaginable. Yet I believe that Christ suffered and died to give us all a second chance. It opened a path by which sinners could find redemption.

He saved us by sacrificing Himself. No matter how much I screw up, He has my back.

That will strike many of you as bat-shit crazy. I’m not going to debate the truth and science of it all. It’s what I believe, and I don’t have to defend it.

Eddie’s art has no warm, glowing Christmas tree lights. There’s no mistletoe, no Santa Clause and no chestnuts roasting on a fire. It’s bleak and dark. But it gives me more clarity about the purpose of the season than any Rockwell painting could.

Dissecting EddieTheYeti

A few months ago I told you about an artist from the security community named Eddie Mize, a.k.a. EddieTheYeti. I identified with his use of artistic expression as a way to cope with inner demons. Since then, we’ve gotten to know each other better.

Mood music:

I’ve used his art to illustrate several posts in this blog. At DEF CON in August, his art exhibit was one of the more popular attractions, and he kindly personalized my DEF CON badge with some OCD Diaries art.

The more I review his work, the more it stirs up feelings that have been deep inside me.

That’s especially true in recent weeks, as I’ve started fighting back against some resurgent personal demons.

So I put the question to Eddie: What if I did a series of posts where I took specific pieces of his work and wrote a narrative for it based on the emotions the work stirred within me?

Eddie is a gracious guy, so I wasn’t surprised when he said it “sounds like a plan!”

The posts will be an ongoing series. You won’t see me focus on it for several days in a row. I’ll probably settle into a post a week. His gallery on the DeviantArt site is more than 2,000 entries deep, so there’s a lot to sift through.

I have two goals with this series:

  1. Help make EddieTheYeti a household name
  2. Continue the scouring of my soul that is key to my own survival

I don’t expect total victory in either case. But I have high hopes that together, Eddie and I will move some people who badly need it.

Stay tuned.

Pierced_by_EddieTheYeti

EddieTheYeti: Art as Mental Therapy

I sucked at a lot of things as a kid, but I could draw. It was the one thing that always got me compliments from people who otherwise ridiculed me.

Those drawings were an exercise in emotion. There were pictures of my favorite rock stars, recreated scenes from my favorite movies (particularly the violent ones) and doodles that captured my frustration during school and periods of depression. A good example of that is the Paul Revere Owl of Rage I wrote about a while back.

Writing eventually replaced drawing, though I’ve maintained a life-long appreciation for art that captures emotion. Which brings me to Eddie Mize, also known as EddieTheYeti.

Mood music:

http://youtu.be/xQvuZvrH0Yw

Eddie is a master at capturing the human element. His latest works, “Faces of Defcon,” are a prime example. He made these images from ink, lime juice, soy sauce, wine, coffee, tea, pencil, acrylic, and water. I know many of the people he captures. They are hackers and other security practitioners who have a burning intensity for their profession. They throw their souls into the work, and you can see it in their eyes.

Eddie has done a lot of rock ‘n’ roll artwork as well, and you can see the influence in his security professionals work.

Much has been written about Eddie’s history with bipolar disorder and depression. He’s been an outspoken advocate for art as a powerful mental health tool.

In a 2010 article on the Mood Letter website, he explains:

My acrylic work is usually the result of mania; the digital darker art is usually created during my depressive phases. People who know me know how I’m doing by the qualities in the work.

Music, art and writing have been critical tools in my own effort to manage mental health, and I appreciate the hell out of people who share their work publicly, where it can then help other people climb out of whatever mental holes they’ve fallen into.

Thanks for all you do, Eddie.

Unibomber by EddieTheYeti