The OCD Diaries

February 16, 2011

When Honesty Is A Lie

I’ve figured out another reason for my sour mood in recent days, and now is as good a time as any to get it off my chest.

Mood music:

http://youtu.be/6YzKLRM-pr4

A lot of people have been coming up to me here in San Francisco praising me for being “so honest, open and courageous” in this blog. It was a similar thing when I was in Washington D.C. for ShmooCon a couple weeks ago.

I appreciate those feelings. I really do. But when I look in the mirror lately, those words don’t ring true.

Maybe I’m being too self-critical, maybe not.

But the feeling is there. And it stings.

Here’s the thing: I do open up about a lot of things on here. That’s why I do this thing. If one person can open up about himself, I figure, others will be less afraid to be honest with themselves and they’ll be happier for it.

But don’t think for a second that I tell you everything.

I still have trouble sometimes being honest with myself and other people. It’s not that I hide anything particularly insidious. It’s the more typical things:

If I run into a PR person who wants to pitch me something I’m not interested in, I often lack the honesty to tell them I’m not interested. That strings them along and gives them false hope, and it’s not fair to them.

When I talk to people about how I’ve cleaned up from an addiction, I’m not so revealing about the other addictions I still let control me (computer gadgetry, for example). Sure, I wrote about that and just linked to it. But I think I’m far more hooked on technology in ways that make life less manageable than I initially let on.

I’m also not honest enough about just how hard it is sometimes to be social and sober-abstinent at the same time. Last night I stayed in the hotel because I wanted nothing to do with people.

I’m not saying what I’ve written before was a lie. It wasn’t. But it wasn’t the full, naked and ugly truth, either. I hold little details back. Some things just feel too private to share.

I guess that’s just part of being human.

Whatever the case may be, I don’t want people thinking I’m better than I am and inflating my head with high praise.

Instead, just help keep me honest.

(Image originally appeared on the SodaHead site )

January 5, 2011

Am I Too Hard on Myself?

A friend asked that question yesterday. I’ve certainly been accused of being too hard on myself before. My step-mother reads this blog and told me I should give myself a break. Steve Lambert, former editor of The Eagle-Tribune, said I was too hard on myself when I wrote the “One of My Biggest Regrets” post.

Mood music:

[spotify:track:0OXjHxbrmrkpvqudvzWlDR]

The short answer is that sometimes I am, most of the time I’m not.

When I was at my absolute worst, I knew my soul was in deep trouble and I hated myself for not having the will to do something about it. I call it my long road through self-hatred. Back then I would be hard on myself by wallowing in the corner or, more accurately, in my car, where I would go on many, many binges.

If I had the ability to cry it out back then, I would have probably binged less. But I’ve never been good at crying, so I’d let the rage fill me and I’d do my best to destroy myself. It’s not that I wanted to die. It’s that I hated and wanted to punish myself. Giving in to my addictions was a lot like taking a thick leather belt and lashing myself a few hundred times.

That’s what happens when mental illness and addiction burn wild with no management. You end up being hard on yourself, and nothing good comes of it. In fact, it just makes things worse.

Today I’m hard on myself in a different way. I come on here and write about what a shithead I was the day before, and in the process I fix my course and work on doing better. That’s much more healthy.

I was feeling stupid yesterday because I purchased a new pair of boots and a pair of pants on Amazon.com. I needed the boots, but not the pants. It was a splurge with money we don’t necessarily have. Call it no big deal, but I know better. Sometimes, when I’m not letting the food addiction or wine guzzling control me, I let the spending addiction control me. Or the Internet addiction.

That’s when I have to remind myself that I’m being a jerk. And then I try to do better.

When I put up my wall and fail to let family in, I need to come on here and remind myself that I’m doing something wrong so I can fix it. Same thing when I’m thinking about things in absolutes.

In the final analysis, I see nothing wrong with being hard on myself as long as it leads to self improvement.

It’s the brand that leads to self pity and self destruction that’s the problem.

December 31, 2010

A Year in the Life

This isn’t a post about New Years resolutions. I don’t need a holiday to make changes in my life. IT IS about lessons I’ve learned in an effort to make resolutions.

Mood music:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pNUU8jHXLMg&fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0]

There’s been plenty of unpleasant stuff this year. I’ve watched two marriages fall apart. We had a couple months where money was painfully tight. My recovery has never been easy. But that’s life.

A big fistful of goodness slammed down on me, too. Me, Erin and the kids took two drives to the DC area and back. During the first trip we got a private tour of the White House West Wing, seeing the Oval Office, Rose Garden and press briefing room. I got to meet up with good friends in San Francisco, Toronto, New York and Chicago, among other places. My recovery was tested daily, but I held it together.

Making New Year’s resolutions used to be a compulsive activity for me. I was always so desperate for something better that I fiendishly and feverishly made lists of what I would do in the coming year:

–Stop binge eating

–Stop worrying about what other people think of me

–Stop trying to please everyone

–Stop letting my mind spin with worry

–Face down my fears

I used to go crazy about all that stuff, all to no avail.

By the end of the first week of a new year, these resolutions were cast aside. The eating resolution went first, then the bit about worrying about what others think.

Thing is, I eventually tackled everything on the list. But it was a much longer process than the instant-reset fixes we have a habit of pursuing at the start of every new year.

As far as I’m concerned, there is no reset button. The journey begins when you’re born and ends when you die. Case closed.

In that spirit, I promise to KEEP AT the following:

–I will keep drinking coffee and savoring the occasional cigar. I put down the food and have sworn off alcohol. We all have a collection of addictions, and my approach is to hold firm against those that cause me the most dysfunction. Coffee suits me just fine, and the cigars are infrequent.

–I will keep listening to metal music, because it keeps me sane.

–I will keep enjoying a good humorous tale, especially the off-colored variety.

– I will keep up and increase the devotion to my wife and children. In doing so, I will keep up and increase my devotion to my Faith.

– I will keep feeding my appetite for history and learning from the hardships of those who came before me.

–I will write a TON of articles in the world of cybersecurity because it’s what I do and what I love.

–I will keep trying to be a better friend and colleague, regardless of the date on a calendar.

–I will keep working the 12 Steps, because it is essential to my well-being.

– And I will keep writing this blog, because it’s good for me and many of you have told me it’s good for you.

December 15, 2010

Editing the Legs Off Your High Horse

Erin and I were talking last night about the often shaky relationship between copy editors and writers. We writers tend to see copy editors as nitpickers who just want to make our lives harder. Copy editors tend to see writers as spoiled brats. But what happens when the writer is in the grip of OCD?

Mood music:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uR6HPzhlvoc&fs=1&hl=en_US]

I usually shy away from posts about the mechanics of writing and editing because it’s all so — mechanical. And it’s not really relevant to the topics of this blog.

Or is it?

The writers Erin has worked with for more than a decade are professionals covering a particular topic. They get paid to offer their expertise. But there are also the writers who do it for therapy. It’s a critical tool in any 12-Step program and if you’ve been treated for OCD like I have, writing is considered an important method for removing obsessive thoughts from your head. Sometimes it doesn’t work. Most of the time it does.

Here’s where the writers in Erin’s world intersect with people like me:

Sometimes you get someone who writes as part of their recovery program AND as a professional journalist. Most writers have a certain amount of prima donna in them (that goes for the guys). You turn in an article and feel insulted as all hell when the editor has the stones to change something or tell you it needs work.

Now, if you’re like me — a recovering OCD head case with an arsenal of addictive demons pointed at my head at all times — that tendency toward the prima donna becomes monstrous. That’s why I picked the song clip above for my mood music today. Because I’ve had many, many days where I got on my high horse over my writing performance and really did feel like the “Motherfucker of the Year.” That’s really what the song is about: Rock stars whose talents attain them a certain level of recognition getting fat in the head, thinking it’s their way or the highway forevermore.

People like us think we’re better than others. Even though we’re so messed up we can’t see straight.

It’s that type of person — someone like me — who NEEDS an editor.

A good editor can be a lot like a 12-Step counselor. They’re ready and willing to take a buzz saw to the legs of your high horse. They tell you how to do better. That’s something every writer should be grateful for.

There are bad editors who can make an article worse and leave a writer feeling dejected for no good reason. But then there are good cops and bad cops, good priests and bad priests. That’s life.

The point is that when you have a good editor, you should expect to be knocked several pegs down the ladder of reality.

I’ve been blessed to work with some great editors in my day: Gretchen Putnam and Al White from The Eagle-Tribune; Anne Saita and Eric Parizo from TechTarget, and now Derek Slater. Eric and I used to have some pretty prickly backs and forth and I after awhile I enjoyed and even looked forward to these moments. We made a lot of decent stories into good stories.

The latter three were well aware of my OCD when we worked together. They could have thrown up their arms, but they chose to work with me instead. I’d like to think I’m a better writer for it. And a lot LESS of a head case.

I still write from a high horse. I still need to have the legs sawed off from time to time.

I’m Narcissism Inc.

I don’t know if I’d want to work with someone like me.

But I’m aware of the problem and I work on it every day.

And I happen to be married to the toughest, most loving editors around.

December 6, 2010

One Year Later

A year ago today, I was feeling down. It was nothing unusual, because the onset of the Christmas season has a way of messing with me. But this time, I felt a special compulsion to do something about it. The result was this blog.

Mood music:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yp8sDwwRokY&fs=1&hl=en_US]

About a year into my recovery from serious mental illness and addiction — the most uncool, unglamorous addiction at that — I started thinking about sharing where I’ve been. My reasoning was simple: I’d listened to a lot of people toss around the OCD acronym to describe everything from being a type A personality to just being stressed. I also saw a lot of people who were traveling the road I’d been down and were hiding their true nature from the world for fear of a backlash at work and in social circles.

At some point, that bullshit became unacceptable to me.

I started getting sick of hiding. I decided the only way to beat my demons at their sick little game was to push them out into the light, so everyone could see how ugly they were and how bad they smelled. That would make them weaker, and me stronger. And so that’s how this started out, as a stigma-busting exercise.

What I didn’t expect was that it would become so much more than that.

Life with THE OCD DIARIES hasn’t been what I’d call pure bliss. There are many mornings where I’d rather be doing other things, but the blog calls to me. A new thought pops into my head and has to come out. It can also be tough on my wife, because sometimes she only learns about what’s going on in my head from what’s in the blog. I don’t mean to do that. It’s just that I often can’t form my thoughts clearly in discussion. I come here to do it, and when I’m done the whole world sees it.

More than once I’ve asked Erin if I should kill this blog. Despite the discomfort it can cause her at times, she always argues against shutting it down. It’s too important to my own recovery process, and others stand to learn from it or at least relate to it.

And so I push forward.

This is my 404th entry. In a year, the blog has gotten nearly 38,000 views. It started out at 25 visits a day, then grew to 50. Now the normal traffic is between 120 and 300 visits a day. As of yesterday, 2,164 of you have left comments to various posts.

That tells me the need is still there.

But let me get back to why this has become so much more than a stigma-busting thing:

People I hadn’t seen or heard from in many years found the blog and started to read through the earliest posts, seeing a side of me they didn’t necessarily know about back when they were in my life.

I purged a lot of demons on this site, including my unresolved feelings about my childhood, the death of my best friend and the estrangement from his family. Along the way, I learned that people I thought had hated my guts all these years had not in fact hated me. The best example is my friend’s widow, Joy. Reconciling with her was a critical part of my ability to move on. I don’t think she’ll ever truly grasp how important it has been to me. I also don’t think we’ll be hanging out like the old days. Too much life has happened since 1996.

That’s OK, though. Knowing she doesn’t hate me and that she’s happy these days is good enough.

This blog has allowed me to express my love for Erin and our children in ways I never could in the spoken word. I’m grateful for that.

I’ve been able to shine a spotlight on friends and family who mean everything to me. Hopefully, that added a few extra rays of sunshine to their lives.

I’ve been able to share everything I’ve learned about OCD and a binge-eating addiction. I’ve been told by readers that it helped them a lot. I’m glad.

So what have I learned in the last year about myself? That’s easy:

I’m still a work in progress, better in many ways than I used to be, but still deeply flawed and saddled with a lot of issues I still need to work on.

But then we ALL have issues we need to work on, don’t we?

I’m not going to write in here tomorrow. I have a busy week of work projects and Christmas stuff to do.

And, for my newest readers, I’m going to rerun the first 5-10 posts I ever wrote. I’ll do that via Facebook, Twitter and LinkedIn as always.

For now, thanks for sharing this journey with me. I hope it’s been as worth it for you as it’s been for me.

September 28, 2010

Writer’s Block IS the Devil

It’s been a very long time since this has happened. And I don’t like it one bit.

Mood music:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1OK1HRqP-fg&fs=1&hl=en_US]

I have writer’s block. I want to write a new post here (I am, actually) and I have a CSO column to write later. I figured I’d get up at 4 a.m. and burn some keyboard rubber like I usually do. But the words didn’t flow like they’re supposed to.

When you are a professional writer like me, this sort of thing can cause panic attacks. I used to be reduced to a pile of jelly on the sidewalk when I had newspaper articles to write on deadline and the writer’s block kicked in.

I don’t have that kind of pressure right now. I have all day to write the column and I don’t have to write an OCD Diary post if I don’t want to. The problem is that I want to but have nothing to say. That’s all well and fine. Sometimes it’s good to keep your mouth (or writing hands) idle. But idle can lead to boredom, and boredom creeps me out.

I used to go smoke a pack of cigarettes when this sort of thing happened. Now I go do house chores.

The good news is that the writer’s block always lifts, and I’ll be tearing up the keyboard in no time.

By the way: This post in itself was a little exercise to break that block so the words can flow. It didn’t help for the blog purposes, but I think it gave me the needed kick to write the security column.

Hope you don’t feel cheated.

June 2, 2010

Writing to Save My Life

The author on why he became a writer and how it shaped his recovery from mental illness and addiction.

People often ask me how the hell I do so much writing every week, between the three-to-four pieces I do for my employer, CSO Magazine, this blog and a book I’m writing on the side. They also ask how I’m able to write so fast, especially during security conferences.

At the Security B-Sides event in San Francisco in March, one friend marveled that I was able to write and post an article on a talk she had just given within minutes of the presentation ending. My friend Jennifer Jabbusch explained it well when she said, “That’s his job. It’s what he does.”

So, I figured it’s time I wrote something about writing.

When I was a kid, everyone expected me to become an artist because I was constantly drawing. In fact, I went to Northeast Metro Tech for high school to study architecture and was well on my way to settling on that for a career. Then, as my passion for metal music deepened, I became obsessed about poetry and the lyrics people like Nikki Sixx, Phil Lynott and James Hetfield were writing. So I started trying to BE them. I do still use the architectural skills when I write, so it wasn’t a waste of studies. When I write security articles, I usually approach it the way an architect approaches each new blueprint.

In hindsight, I wasn’t very good at it. But I persisted. The more music I listened to — and as an employee of Rockit Records, I had access to an endless supply — the more lyrics I wrote.

A lot of what I wrote became the lyrics for songs I would write with the band Skeptic Slang. The lyrics were mostly negative reactions to life at the time. In fact, if I were at a party with the me of the late 1980s-early 1990s, I probably wouldn’t like the younger me very much. I would dismiss him as a whiny little punk. But I was just a product of my experiences up to that point. Those who have read this blog from the beginning will understand. Those who don’t can get the back story here.

Finding those old notebooks full of Skeptic Slang lyrics has become a mini obsession of mine.

As I was ramping up the music writing, I was pursuing a parallel passion for journalism. In college, I dove into it relentlessly, writing for the Salem State Log and slowly earning myself a degree in English (the major) and Communications (the minor). I also helped edit submissions for Sounding’s East, the college literary magazine edited by a beautiful redhead who I eventually married. If you really want to know how to write effectively, check out her blog here.

I had my first reporter job before I graduated, covering the Swampscott, Mass. school district. From there I got a full-time reporting gig in Stoneham, then started editing for papers in Lynn, Billerica, Chelmsford and Westford. I was not a fast writer back then. Thanks to the OCD, I would slowly outline each story and, after writing the first draft, I’d read it back aloud, again and again, polishing one paragraph at a time. I would annoy many a colleague doing that, especially when I became night editor at The Eagle-Tribune.

Things started to go wrong in the latter job, because that’s when the surface cracks of my OCD started to appear and I started falling apart. One of the lessons, in hindsight, was that it was a mistake to go into all editing with no writing. I lost sight of why I got into the business when I became a full-on editor.

My entrance onto the information security scene was a result of my craving to write again. The security beat at TechTarget was my way back in, and I haven’t stopped since.

Some things have changed, though.

My writing is much faster today. I don’t do outlines of each story and I don’t read ’em back to myself aloud. I just do it and send them off to an editor. That’s partly the result of experience and partly the result of bringing the OCD under control, since the over polishing was an obsessive-compulsive action.

The result is that I don’t mind having several projects in play at once. In fact, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I need to write every day for mental exercise. The action of typing is now a soothing action for me. I love the sound and feel of my fingers pounding away on each key. It’s like the music I listen to while I write.

I am a two-fingered typist, by the way. I’m proud of that fact.

When I started this blog it was because I was ready to share my experiences so others might be compelled to come out of the shadows of mental illness and addiction. Hopefully I’ve had some success there. But regardless, this particular writing has become a critical tool of my own recovery.

By writing about the experience, I get them out of my head and can move on.

It’s no embellishment to say I’m literally writing to save my life. Writing HAS saved my life.

March 31, 2010

Pouring Gas on the Fire

People in recovery often go into hyper mode, making up for time wasted in the grip of addiction. Mix in some OCD and here’s what happens…

Mood music for this post: “Gasoline” by Audioslave:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H6_C4rV7x-Y&hl=en_US&fs=1&]

I was talking to a dear friend this morning about the radio show I was pushing in my last post, SixxSense, and how the show’s host, Motley Crue bassist Nikki Sixx, has been a hurricane of activity since he became sober. I noted how he has a clothing line, two bands (Motley and Sixx A.M.) and a best-selling book to his credit. Oh yeah, there’s also his charity for runaways.

“Sounds a lot like your life,” the friend said. Not that what I’m doing is anywhere near as huge as what the Sixx machine has going on. But, the point was, I have a lot of irons in the fire. All the time.

Someone else asked me recently how I can write something new in this blog every day and still maintain the fast pace of writing and reporting on the security side, not to mention all the family responsibilities. And the book I’m starting to write. And the active participation in my church and 12-Step Program.

The answer is simple, and pretty much the same as it is for a lot of people who have found recovery. I’m making up for lost time; years I wasted in the haze of depression and binge eating.

But the extra drive is also fueled by an energy people like us discover once the haze lifts. Things that used to inspire dread and cause exhaustion become much, much easier to do. And so you want to do more. It’s almost a new addiction in itself.

But for me there’s a twist: My addictive behavior was a byproduct of OCD out of control. Now that I seem to have the upper hand over addiction, the OCD itself has changed in some ways.

One reason for that is all the therapy and finally the medication it took to get my head screwed on right. The OCD moments went from being triggered by fear and anxiety to other, more welcome things: Mainly a renewed interest in all the life I had run away from in the past.

The work doesn’t feel like work. I’m lucky to be doing things I love. So I try to do more. The different outlook toward work, in turn, makes it easier for me to show up for my wife, kids, church and more.

Some of this may sound confusing and even a little jarring. It is.

But this is still a fairly new experience for me, and I haven’t found all the boundaries yet. When I do, there will no doubt be some growing pains. But that’s as it should be.

I trust my family and friends to confront me when I’ve gone too far and damaged my health or relationships.

Above all, I trust God to guide me along the right path.

Let it burn.

March 20, 2010

An OCD Diaries Primer

A collection of posts that form the back story of this blog.

Mood music:

[spotify:track:19n9s9SfnLtwPEODqk8KCT]

The Long History of OCD

An OCD Christmas. The first entry, where I give an overview of how I got to crazy and found my way to sane.

The Bad Pill Kept Me from the Good Pill. How the drug Prednisone brought me to the brink, and how Prozac was part of my salvation.

The Crazy-Ass Guy in the Newsroom. Think you have troubles at work? You should see what people who worked with me went through.

The Freak and the Redhead: A Love Story. About the wife who saved my life in many ways.

Snowpocalypse and the Fear of Loss. The author remembers a time when fear of loss would cripple his mental capacities, and explains how he got over it — mostly.

The Ego OCD Built. The author admits to having an ego that sometimes swells beyond acceptable levels and that OCD is fuel for the fire. Go ahead. Laugh at him.

Fear Factor. The author describes years of living in a cell built by fear, how he broke free and why there’s no turning back.

Prozac Winter. The author discovers that winter makes his depression worse and that there’s a purely scientific explanation — and solution.

Have Fun with Your Therapist. Mental-illness sufferers often avoid therapists because the stigma around these “shrinks” is as thick as that of the disease. The author is here to explain why you shouldn’t fear them.

The Engine. To really understand how mental illness happens, let’s compare the brain to a machine.

Rest Redefined. The author finds that he gets the most relaxation from the things he once feared the most.

Outing Myself. The author on why he chose to “out” himself despite what other people might think.

Why Being a People Pleaser is Dumb. The author used to try very hard to please everybody and was hurt badly in the process. Here’s how he broke free and kept his soul intact.

The Addiction and the Damage Done

The Most Uncool Addiction. In this installment, the author opens up about the binge-eating disorder he tried to hide for years — and how he managed to bring it under control.

Edge of a Relapse. The author comes dangerously close to a relapse, but lives to fight another day.

The 12 Steps of Christmas. The author reviews the 12 Steps of Recovery and takes a personal inventory.

How to Play Your Addictions Like a Piano. The author admits that when an obsessive-compulsive person puts down the addiction that’s most self-destructive, a few smaller addictions rise up to fill the void. But what happens when the money runs out?

Regulating Addictive Food: A Lesson in Futility. As an obsessive-compulsive binge eater, the author feels it’s only proper that he weigh in on the notion that regulating junk food might help. Here’s why the answer is probably not.

The Liar’s Disease. The author reveals an uncomfortable truth about addicts like himself: We tend to have trouble telling the truth.

Portable Recovery. Though addiction will follow the junkie anywhere in the world, the author has discovered that recovery is just as portable.

Revere (Experiences with Addiction, Depression and Loss During The Younger Years)

Bridge Rats and Schoolyard Bullies. The author reviews the imperfections of childhood relationships in search of all his OCD triggers. Along the way, old bullies become friends and he realizes he was pretty damn stupid back then.

Lost Brothers. How the death of an older brother shaped the Hell that arrived later.

Marley and Me. The author describes the second older brother whose death hit harder than that of the first.

The Third Brother. Remembering Peter Sugarman, another adopted brother who died too early — but not before teaching the author some important lessons about life.

Revere Revisited.

Lessons from Dad. The author has learned some surprising lessons from Dad on how to control one’s mental demons.

The Basement. A photo from the old days in Revere spark some vivid flashbacks.

Addicted to Feeling Good. To kick off Lent, the author reflects on some of his dumber quests to feel good.

The lasting Impact of Crohn’s Disease. The author has lived most of his life with Crohn’s Disease and has developed a few quirks as a result.

The Tire and the Footlocker. The author opens up an old footlocker under the stairs and finds himself back in that old Revere basement.

Child of Metal

How Metal Saved Me. Why Heavy Metal music became a critical OCD coping tool.

Insanity to Recovery in 8 Songs or Less. The author shares some videos that together make a bitchin’ soundtrack for those who wrestle with mental illness and addiction. The first four cover the darkness. The next four cover the light.

Rockit Records Revisited. The author has mentioned Metal music as one of his most important coping tools for OCD and related disorders. Here’s a look at the year he got one of the best therapy sessions ever, simply by working in a cramped little record store.

Metal to Stick in Your Mental Microwave.

Man of God

The Better Angels of My Nature. Why I let Christ in my life.

The Rat in the Church Pew. The author has written much about his Faith as a key to overcoming mental illness. But as this post illustrates, he still has a long way to go in his spiritual development.

Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely. The author goes to Church and comes away with a strange feeling.

Running from Sin, Running With Scissors. The author writes an open letter to the RCIA Class of 2010 about Faith as a journey, not a destination. He warns that addiction, rage and other bad behavior won’t disappear the second water is dropped over their heads.

Forgiveness is a Bitch. Seeking and giving forgiveness is essential for someone in recovery. But it’s often seen as a green light for more abuse.

Pain in the Lent. The author gives a progress report on the Lenten sacrifices. It aint pretty.

March 16, 2010

Blogs to Live By

Once in awhile, I like to flag other people’s blogs for you to check out. Because it’s not always about me, despite what my OCD-laden mind often tells me.

I’m reading the following blogs a lot these days because each offers a unique slice of life. Let’s begin:

Scorpionic — This is my favorite blog of late, because the writing is raw and edgy, just the way I like it. It’s written by my old Rockit Records chum Christian Campagna. Man, we had a lot of fun in that record store.

I remember him chewing tobacco and spitting it into a glass juice bottle and smoking cigarettes at the front door of the store when we should have been inside organizing merchandise and such. Fast forward to his blog.

He’s been living in California and writes a lot about his longing to be back home in Boston. Fortunately for those of us on the homefront, he’s moving back for good at month’s end. His blog includes a lot of photos and narrative about his cross-country travels, which the traveler in me really loves.

Conquering “Crazy” — This recent discovery is written by Greg Dungan. Like my OCD Diaries, Greg’s blog is a recent start-up. He focuses like a laser beam on the core craziness as he experiences it. It reads more like an actual day-by-day diary, whereas mine is more a collection of longer narratives with a lot of focus on the byproducts of my affliction.

Like me, music is important to him, and he is also a seeker who is trying to find the core of his spirituality. I especially love his first entry, “OK, So I’m Crazy.” Here’s an excerpt:

“I have exhibited symptoms of OCD for as long as I can remember. Recently, these symptoms have intensified. What used to be the “things that make me unique” have become the “things that make me crazy”. This blog is about my struggle with this demon. This is where I will record my day to day thoughts and struggles – my defeats and my victories. I have two choices at this point in my life – roll over and die or fight my way out. I’ve never been one for rolling over and I’m not about to start now.

“You’re welcome to walk this valley with me. If you are living with OCD or if someone you love is, take heart. There are brighter days somewhere, and we will find them together.”

Brighter days ahead? You bet your ass there are.

Reassembler — I feel a little weird about including this because the author is my boss, CSO Editor-In-Chief Derek Slater. Including it here can easily be interpreted as sucking up. But here me out: Few people suffer more at the hands of my OCD-driven, overbearing personality than Derek Slater. I constantly force my music down his throat. I’m stubborn about my work. The least I could do for this poor soul is give his personal blog a mention.

Kidding aside, this is a great blog for those who love cooking, chess and the writing craft itself. To truly appreciate the flavor of this blog, check out what some readers have to say on the homepage:

Encomia for Reassembler

“This move is so bad I didn’t even consider it.” – Anonymous “You have departed from reality.” – J. Gallant“…I was put off by the variety of topics…” – H. Reed“Your blog…should not be read.” – L.E. Product

“It makes me angry!” – S. Pawn

“You’re kind of all over the place.” – M.Kaprielian

“Bummer.” – Anonymous Greg

“I read your blog and read and read, and finally I just said…I don’t get it.” – B.Brown

“We love the disinterest.” – M. Phelps

By the way, my favorite profile photo on all of Facebook is of derek getting an ass-whooping at chess.

Veritate et Virtute — This blog is written by Christopher Burgess, a director and senior security advisor for Cisco. Chris writes about security in another blog on CSOonline.com, but this blog is his personal space, where you really get a glimpse into his heart.

He recently wrote a post about human sex trafficking and the impact on children:

“Nevada, is infamous as the only state in the United States which has legalized prostitution, and thus when one hears of prostitution and Las Vegas, its far too often a ho-hum affair. Not a good mix, by any measure when it comes to the prospects for our children. You see, there is one other distinction enjoyed by Nevada, it is one of the primary destinations within the United States for trafficked and sexually exploited children. With the knowledge that the average age at the beginning of the exploitation is 12 years of age, we need to be concerned and we need to pay attention, regardless of where we reside.”

He has also been a staunch fighter in the war against childhood hunger. My parental side can’t help but like the guy.

Run DMZ — I’ve already made my affection for Anne Saita clear in my “Office Mom” post. She was my boss at SearcghSecurity at a pivitol moment in my life, when my fight against OCD began in earnest. If she weren’t my boss at that critical moment, I’m not so sure I’d be where I am today. Putting all that aside, her blog is a fantastic read for anyone who has an interest in running, health, family and friendship. The woman knows how to live, and she could teach you a few things.