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I’m A Facebook Hypocrite

I’ve gotten some static lately over what I post and how often I post it. Much of the feedback is fair and I’m working on it, but I can’t help feeling like there’s a little hypocrisy going on.

Many of us have the same problem: We want to say what we want at will, but don’t want anyone else to do the same. I can be a hypocrite with the best of ’em, so I know I can’t get all high and mighty and defensive. I think this is just another byproduct of the social networking age. We all have this megaphone and we worry that if we don’t yell into it constantly, it’ll get taken away from us. Some people don’t have this problem, and post a lot more sparingly. I give them a lot of credit for their self control.

Mood music: 

In my crankiness I’ve made a list of all the things on Facebook and Twitter that annoy me. Some of you will relate. None of you should take it too personally. I admit to using this post to blow off steam.

Blowing off steam is important for us, because it keeps us from exploding further down the line. So thanks in advance for indulging me.

In my moments of self pity and self righteousness, when someone takes issue with how I use my social networking tools, I get all red in the face, climb onto my high horse and think to myself, well, at least I don’t …

–Think I’m taking a big, brave stand by posting self-righteous and self-evident statements, daring the rest of you to repost if you agree.

–Insist on getting all lovey-dovey with my wife on Facebook for all to see, dropping words like “baby” and “honey” everywhere.

–Fight with my significant other on Facebook for all to see.

–Vilify others for their political and religious views, even though my own views are equally offensive to others.

–Push buttons for attention, though some have accused me of doing so.

–Whine nonstop about the weather. I feel pretty smart for realizing it’s perfectly normal for it to be hot in the summer and snowing in the winter.

–Whine about the latest Facebook layout changes, forgetting that it’s a free service and that I really didn’t like the last six layouts, either.

–Complain about my job constantly.

Since I don’t do those things, I guess that means I’m better than you.

Well, not really.

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Paranoia Was My Destroyer

There’s a particularly insidious side of my OCD that I have to fight hard to contain, because it’s the thing most likely to destroy me. This is a story about paranoia.

Mood music:

http://youtu.be/_WJ6FbcWYRU

Let’s start with a definition from Wikipedia:

Paranoia is a thought process believed to be heavily influenced by anxiety or fear, often to the point of irrationality and delusion. Paranoid thinking typically includes persecutory beliefs, or beliefs of conspiracy concerning a perceived threat towards oneself.

Anxiety and fear once played a major role in how my OCD manifested itself. I would become so full of fear about people, places and things that I would see conspiracies against me around every corner.

My time as night editor of The Eagle-Tribune is a perfect example.

Working the night shift and then waking up after only a couple hours of sleep each night to spend time with the children eroded my sanity to the point where I was absolutely convinced that the day staff was conspiring against me.

I’d sit at home working the scenarios over and over in my head. I was certain that anything that went wrong with the morning deadline cycle would be blamed on me because of something I may or may not have done the night before. That turned into a constant feeling that a conspiracy was afoot to get me fired.

I would think about it day and night, ruining God knows how many precious moments with my wife and kids. I was right there with them at home or on family vacations. But mentally I was somewhere far away and dark.

Going further back to my late teens and early 20s, I would grow obsessed about what people thought of me: how I looked, how I talked and walked. I lost a lot of sleep worrying about something I took as a certainty: that people were talking about me behind my back, making fun of my mannerisms.

My mind would spin and spin until I was too much of a wreck to do anything but sleep.

I haven’t suffered with this stuff nearly as much in recent years because of all the work I’ve done to get my OCD under control. I’ve faced a lot of fears and killed them in the process. That has made me far less anxious, which in turn has made me far less paranoid.

But once in awhile, especially if my sleep is off, some of it will nudge its way back into my head. Not fear or anxiety, but a nagging feeling that somewhere people are talking about me, complaining about something I may have said or did.

I have to be on constant alert for those moments. You could say I have to be paranoid of the paranoia.

I’ve found some valuable weapons in the fight against this demon:

–I try most nights to be in bed as soon as the kids are in bed, so I can read or just fall asleep. When I get enough sleep, a lot of the wreckage in my head is cleared out.

–I hang on tight to a diet devoid of flour and sugar. The main reason is to control a binge-eating disorder. But as a pleasant byproduct, the absence of these things from my body has also had a clarifying effect.

–I’m always working at prayer. I don’t do it nearly as much as I should, but when I do, God finds a way to set my mind at ease.

–I make time to talk to fellow addicts and mental illness sufferers because when I help them sort out their emotions, I have less time to drown in my own mental juices. Besides, a lot of people do the same for me and giving it back is the least I can do. This is a double-edged sword though, because when you let enough people vent their emotions on you, the load can get heavy indeed.

–I have regular visits with my therapist, though I often suck at remembering when my appointments are.

What I’ve just mapped out isn’t perfect. Sometimes it’s very easy not to do the things I know I should do. In fact, that’s happened more in recent months.

But it’s like any kind of self improvement. You don’t have to perfect everything all at once. You can take baby steps and get to where you need to be.

The paranoia, like one’s addictions, will always be doing push-ups in the parking lot.

Sometimes, it will sneak up behind you and kick your ass.

But if you kick its ass more than it kicks yours, you’ll be winning the war.

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I’m Told I Repeat Myself A Lot

Update March 19, 2012: I touched on this issue in today’s Salted Hash blog post on @CSOonline. There has been some good discussion on the matter of how often to tweet and how best to achieve variety. After reading this from my friend @Beaker, I remembered that I had indeed touched on the issue here as well…

I’m asked a lot lately why I push out multiple posts through the day and why many of them are repeats. Here’s what it’s about — and what I’m trying to do about it.

Mood music:

http://youtu.be/7v4umdrtWtg

There’s a professional and personal reason behind it. The professional part is that as someone who works in the media-publishing business, a big goal is always to get your content in front of as many eyes as possible.

I don’t apologize for a few reasons. One is that I don’t write this stuff so it’ll sit there unread. The other is that in the world of social media, people are coming online at different times of day. If you only post something in the morning, you miss the evening readers and vice versa. That’s why with new posts I typically post thrice daily: In the morning, around lunchtime and in the evening.

Social media is also like a rushing river. Especially Twitter and, to a lesser extent, Facebook. You put something in the water and it’s immediately flushed miles out of view by all the other waves people make. Some call it an echo chamber where you have to yell to be heard. That’s an accurate description, too.

As for the repeats, I do that because many of the posts in this blog are meant to be lessons you can retell when they can do the most good. At other times I like to think of them as songs worth replaying when the right mood strikes.  Also, sometimes people will see a post for the first time months after it was first written.

Now for the personal side: It’s not your imagination. You ARE seeing one of my OCD ticks in action. Someone once called me an obsessive poster, and they were right. I’ll post things repeatedly just as someone with OCD might check a door lock or wash their hands repeatedly.

What am I trying to do about all this? The simple answer is that I’m working hard to post less each day. If I write something new, it runs three times, spread out as I described above. But I’m throttling back on repeats of the older stuff, because I do take your feedback to heart and want to do the right thing.

But when all is said and done, I will never be able to please everybody, nor should I try. I do what I do and if people want what I’m pushing they’ll stick around. Those who don’t want it should just unfollow or defriend me.

Or, as they used to say when all we had was radio and TV, if you don’t like what’s on, change the channel or turn it off.

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Losing Friends

I find myself worried this morning that, by opening up in this blog, I’ve lost another dear friend.

That’s the challenge with expressing one’s feelings publicly: Even when you think you’re taking care to protect one’s privacy, leaving out names and such, you find a way to hurt someone anyway.

Writing this blog has been a lifesaver most days. A lot of people have told me it helps them.

But sometimes I curse the day I started this thing.

For now I just have to walk away and hope time heals another wound.

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A Relapse Isn’t The End Of The World

When a person relapses back into addictive behavior, it seems like the end of the world. Everything they’ve worked for is in ashes, and they embrace their old demon with reckless abandon.

It shouldn’t have to be that way.

Mood music:

[spotify:track:1JKiRbc7uA6B9QrO3I1zZH]

I’m thinking hard about this because I came close to a relapse recently, and a friend now finds himself in a full, free-falling backslide.

A lot of people have a hard time seeing compulsive binge eating as an addiction on par with alcohol and heroin. But it’s just as effective at destroying a man’s life and health as those other things. And since you still need to eat to survive, there’s a lot of fear around this type of relapse, because it seems to suck us in deeper more quickly.

Anyway, this post isn’t meant to convince the skeptics. It’s directed specifically at those who have relapsed to their addictions, whatever the substance. It’s the same message to be had in today’s mood music, from the Sixx A.M. “Heroin Diaries” soundtrack:

You know that accidents can happen

It’s OK, we all fall off the wagon sometimes

It’s not your whole life

It’s only one day

You haven’t thrown everything away.

The best thing to do is accept the relapse and start over. But when the feeling of failure overwhelms you, it’s easier said than done. The point was brought home to me the other day when talking to my friend who relapsed.

He noted that this is his third relapse, and that he wasn’t sure if he could return to the halls of Overeater’s Anonymous. He correctly noted that there are some people in the program who look at relapse cases as pariahs. Most people will embrace you and try to help you regain your footing. But the ones who look at you like an exploded zit can be overwhelming and keep you from going back.

Shame takes on a lot of insidious forms for the relapsed soul.

Talking to this fellow makes me realize just how lucky I was this time. I came to the brink and started getting sloppy. But I pulled myself back before falling off the cliff and going on a binge. A lot of good people aren’t so fortunate.

I really feel for my friend. He’s stuck down the hole and doesn’t know if he can ever find his way back out. He says he’s knee deep in the food and won’t leave his house because he’s putting on weight so fast that he doesn’t want to be seen.

That is one of the shittiest things about compulsive binge-eating: You can’t hide it because your behavior is obvious in the fast weight gain. This disease hangs off our belly like a sack of shit. And when it keeps you from leaving your house, you are in a very bad place. I know, because I spent a lot of years avoiding people because I didn’t want them to see the mess I’d become.

Hell, in my journey to a near-relapse, I didn’t gain weight but still felt bloated and didn’t want to be around people.

In the week since I realized how far to the edge I’d come, I’ve tightened the bolts on my program considerably. I’m starting to feel better, and I’m close to having a new OA sponsor. Like I said, I was lucky this time.

But I feel a little anger toward some of the people in this program for making my friend feel so ashamed. We’re supposed to help each other up when someone falls, not treat this like some powder puff popularity club where the folks with long term recovery are rock starts and the fallen are zeroes.

I shouldn’t feel the anger, though, because that kind of behavior is just another part of this disease. None of us were playing with a full deck to begin with, and even in recovery, it can be hard not to be an asshole.

But as I told my friend: “Fuck them. It’s not about what they think. It’s about what you do to get better.”

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My Brain Is On The Pavement. But At Least I Showered

It’s hard to pinpoint the moment my recovery started getting wobbly and I started getting sloppy. I don’t know if it’s fully accurate to call this a relapse, but it’s pretty damn close.

Mood music:

One thing is certain: I’m in a shaky place lately, and this is as good a place to sort things out. Talking is always better, but sometimes I have to write it.

I’ve been very tired lately, and in my fatigue, my recovery program from binge eating and other addictions has gotten sloppy. Twice in as many weeks, I’ve forgotten to pack an abstinent lunch before leaving the house. When you’re recovery is on sturdy ground, that’s a mistake you NEVER make.

I haven’t been making it to many 12-Step/OA meetings of late, and I can’t remember the last time I called my sponsor. I guess I’ve been too tired and short-fused to go over the same bullshit, over and over again.

I haven’t gone on any binges, thankfully. But I know how it works. I’m not stupid. When you start getting careless, you open yourself up for the crash.

I’ve been going over the last few months in search of the moment things started to go wrong.

My father having three strokes was certainly a factor. It’s hard not to worry all the time when the guy who has been the strong man in your life is suddenly in a wheelchair, not able to do much for himself. But I decided early on to be strong, cool and rational for other family members.

To do that, I guess I felt I needed a crutch. I didn’t want to binge eat or drink, so I smoked. Then Erin found the cigarettes I was hiding, and I resolved to quit that, too. Then and there, much of my patience for people went down the garbage chute.

I won’t lie: It still pisses me off that I had to stop smoking. Sure those things give you cancer. But to me it seemed much safer then the other things, which leave me in a mental state that disrupts everything, even my ability to dress myself. And so I start wearing the same clothes repeatedly, so I don’t have to think much about my appearance.

And, in the last week, I’ve been quietly re-assessing the status of things with my mother. I think I’m finally ready to reconcile, though it’ll never go back to the way it was. It can’t go back to the way it was. And so I have to think carefully about how to do this. That makes me even more tired.

At least I haven’t stopped taking showers and brushing my teeth. I’ve done that before, and it’s not pretty.

My next actions are clear:

–I’m going to consider all this a break of abstinence and go back to square one.

–I’m going to get a new sponsor. The current one has done his best with me, but I haven’t returned the favor.

–I need to start getting to more than one meeting a week. Actually, one a week is a good place to start.

–I need to make an action plan to deal with my mother.

–I need to start being honest with myself and stop pretending I have perfect control over everything.

I’ll come out of this. I always do. This is part of managing my life. You go through periods when everything is running like a Swiss watch. Then there are times when the machinery falls out of its casing, scraping your wrist on its way to the ground.

Venting here is how I deal with it and keep upright. I do it publicly because there are many people like me out there, who have no answers and are looking for a place to start.

Take it from me: Writing it out is a great place to start.

From there, realize you can’t fix yourself without help. Next, go find that help.

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Clearer Language From The Catholic Church On Suicide

For those, like me, who struggle with suicide, particularly how the Catholic Church feels about it, I have something useful a good friend sent to me this afternoon, presumably after reading this morning’s post.

Mood music:

http://youtu.be/jrRfoEEDENo

From the Catechism of the Catholic Church:

“2282 Grave psychological disturbances, anguish, or grave fear of hardship, suffering, or torture can diminish the responsibility of the one committing suicide. 

2283 We should not despair of the eternal salvation of persons who have taken their own lives. By ways known to him alone, God can provide the opportunity for salutary repentance. The Church prays for persons who have taken their own lives.”

Thanks to my friend for sharing.

I think the language shows that the Church doesn’t see this issue in the black and white way we often think it does.

So if you know someone who died by their own hand and it tortures you to think about where in the afterlife they are, take comfort in knowing that they may not be in such a bad place after all.

And do something to honor them, like doing things to raise awareness about mental illness.

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A 9-11 Obsession

It happens every time the calendar rolls into September. I start watching documentaries about 9-11-01 and can’t stop.

Mood music:

Most people do this in the days leading up to a 9-11 anniversary, but for me there’s the OCD element, where after I watch something I can’t stop thinking about it. I’ll forget the rest of the world exists and just replay the scenes in my head over and over again.

I’ve been like this for the last couple of days. Thanks to YouTube I can watch all these documentaries at will.

I’ll get this out of my system. All these little compulsions pass sooner or later. But I wanted to direct you to one documentary that is worth watching obsessively, because you can learn a lot about the goodness man is capable of. It’s a Discovery Channel documentary called “Inside The Twin Towers.”

Here’s part 1. If you start there, YouTube will play each 10-minute clip in order. There are 10 in all.

There’s a morbid aspect of the program where they show what it was probably like to be inside the towers as they collapsed. But this is mostly about people helping other people despite the risks to their own lives. You see a lot of strangers helping each other.

Once the haunting aspect of the documentary wears off, you’ll walk away feeling inspired.

And maybe — just maybe — you’ll realize that you are capable of great things, of touching a lot of people, regardless of your own personal demons.

Events like 9-11-01 are full of evil and sorrow. But, as Mister Rogers said in a show he did right after the attacks, the helpers ALWAYS come. Some are firefighters running up endless flights of stairs with 60 pounds of gear on their backs.

And some are stock traders who, when put in a certain place at a certain time, did something they were always meant to do.

God has a plan, alright. Sometimes it involves awful events. But it’s a plan that sorts the boys from the men, the girls from the women, and the good souls from the selfish and indifferent souls.

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This Is No Place To Make Amends

After running the post “Bully’s Remorse” a few days ago, it occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, writing it was a mistake. Or maybe it simply didn’t go far enough.

Mood music:

[spotify:track:5rpRzNcJZqKQXk9PIjreB6]

Like many topics in this blog, I wrote it to yank another skeleton out of the closet and acknowledge that as a teenager, while I was getting bullied and should have related to others who were bullied, I just turned around and kicked around someone I thought was weaker than me.

It’s not the first regret that I’ve mentioned here. In another post, “One of my Biggest Regrets,” I wrote about a New Hampshire reporter from my Eagle-Tribune days who I was terrible to. I called her early one morning to chew her out over a story that didn’t get done, knowing full well her husband was due to have heart surgery that very morning.

It’s a recurring theme here. I tell you about someone I was a awful to, and it’s like I’m making an amends to that person.

But I’m not, really. Amends can only be made face-to-face. In that regard, I’m stuck in neutral.

This all occurred to me after a friend with her own experience in being bullied sent me this message:

—

I remember being picked on from as early on as 2nd grade all the way through senior year of high school (alternative school, you know “short bus”, “the troubled kids”) I got there by trying to kill myself. I still remember what one of the intake workers said about my overdose: “Hey, you know that could get ya killed…hahaha”… trying to relate to the poor depressed girl. I replied, “Yeah, that’s the point.

Being tormented by my peers in one of the hardest things I have tried to let go of in my life. There is a pile of abuse material, neglect, alcohol and drug addiction (of my family), homelessness, being a foster child, being locked up in psyche…etc., that I could talk about…but, somehow being alienated by the people ( your peers), perhaps even those that could of helped you in that situation, hurt, and still does.

If you remember me from “around the neighborhood”, Bill, its probably because I was the scapegoat for a lot of other kids’ nastiness, including my own sister. So, am I crying in my tea (sorry, I don’t drink), here? I hope not. I’m doing the best to let you know how your “friend” probably felt: useless, self-hating, desperate, and alone.

I hope he was stronger than I was, I hope for you that he is doing well, and can laugh it all off.

My personal opinion is that you are making amends to make yourself feel better. If you want this person to know how you feel, that you are sorry, that you wish you had not done the things you did…..don’t write a blog about it, don’t say: ” hey if you happen to see so and so let him know I wrote a blog about him, cuz I’m so fucking cool … hire your own private detective, find the guy, meet him face to face, and make your amends. That’s being a man. Abuse creates monsters, and what children do to each other while growing up is abuse, sometimes with fatal consequences. I wonder if Columbine would of even happened if adults had a “no tolerance” reaction to any abuse, because they know, and they let it happen all the time.

—

The line that really cut me to the core was the suggestion that I wrote that post to make myself feel better.

Because in hindsight, it’s true.

Coming clean here is an important step. But I’m really not making my amends unless I’m doing it directly to the person who needs to hear it.

It’s time for me to put the process in motion.

There are many people I need to make peace with.

regret

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Screw Hurricane Irene. Let’s Rock!

On my facebook wall, an old friend, Taimee Leary Scarpa, posted this: “Hope you have a happy birthday. Hope you are able to fit in some fun before you start taping your windows for Hurricane Irene, lol.”

She was referring to the events I described in the post “Fear and Duct Tape.”

Truth be told, Hurricanes stopped scaring me some time ago. Learning to ditch the fear and anxiety of my younger years is the main reason.

If anything, I’m feeling a mix of excitement — after all, a hurricane is something you don’t get to see every day — and slight irritation because we had some nice Sunday plans that are going to get spoiled.

But while the electricity is still on, I’m going to make the most of it and play some loud rock n’ roll. Feel free to join me:

http://youtu.be/Obfci1CIqq8

http://youtu.be/OI2COawqMJQ

OCD Diaries