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Searching for the Middle Speed

You’ve heard the old saying about addicts: They lack the middle speed so-called normal people have access to. It’s all or nothing for us, and a couple weeks ago I started to pay for it.

You could say everyone around me has been paying for it.

Mood music:

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A5SuiywnBuo&fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0]

The problem comes wrapped in a blessing.

In my recovery from addiction and mental disorder, I’ve gained a hunger for all the things I used to be afraid of doing. Actually, I used to be afraid of everything: flying, work, volunteering my time for causes that would surely bite into the time I wanted to spend lying comatose on the couch.

So for the last couple of years, I’ve been off like a rocket. I go to more security shows than I used to and when I’m there I push myself hard. I help out with the RCIA program at church (I’m trying to, anyway). I write three blog entries when one will suffice.

I want it all.

Overcoming fear and anxiety has been a beautiful thing. But it carries trouble along the way.

Here’s what I’m thinking and feeling now:

I have definitely taken on too much lately, partially because of my hunger for new experiences. I want to be of service to people who are going through what I’ve gone through. I want to soak up as much time as I can with people I ignored far too much over the years. And I want to continue to work my security beat hard, because I just won’t have it any other way.

But I need to give the best of that energy to Erin, Sean and Duncan. And that means dialing it back a bit.

My dilemma has been how to do that without retreating from the world again, because I really don’t want to do that. And besides, there’s really no turning back.

It’s a parallel problem to the age-old dilemma addicts face: Moderation just isn’t an option for us. People like to say it all the time: “Why do you have to give certain things up? Can’t you just have everything in moderation?” Well, my friends, that’s the problem. Moderation is an alien concept to me. When someone leaves half the food on their plate or a half-glass of wine on the table, I just don’t get it. Period.

There is no middle speed for me. I either abstain from all flour and sugar or I eat it all. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the form of something old and stale. It can’t be left on the table when I’m in binge mode. I either abstain from all the wine or I drink all the wine.

So this weekend, I’ve pondered how to achieve the right balance.

I won’t lie: I’m no closer to the answer than I was when I started. I’m at a total loss, in fact.

To stop writing would be to stop breathing. And besides, my day job is to write, right?

I do the RCIA stuff because I feel I’ve been called by God to do so. But in the process of squeezing it in, I’m doing a shitty job at the task.

I CAN cut back on the travel and I’m going to do that. I still have to figure out the details, but I at least know I don’t have to travel everywhere, all the time.

I can’t stop going to 12-step meetings because that’s a simple matter of survival. If I don’t work my program, everything else is surely going to hell. That’s for certain.

So which way do I go now?

Like I said, I honestly have no idea.

But I love my family too much to let this stuff slide, so I’ll have to figure it out.

It is worth noting that this is a much better position to be in than the way it was before. Figuring out how to bring more discipline to life beats the shit out of figuring out ways to hide from it altogether. 

So don’t take this post as a complaint.

You could look at it as me thinking aloud

Expect more of this from me until I figure things out.

Maybe we’ll all learn a few things about time management in the process, eh?

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Snake on the Plane

Tomorrow I get on another plane to another city — this time San Francisco. It’s time to go cover the RSA and B-Sides security events. I used to be a raving lunatic the day before a flight. Not anymore. Still, I feel uneasy this morning.

Mood music:

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

My mind has been raw all week for a multitude of reasons. Mostly, it’s a case of winter getting to me. The sun is setting later each day, which is good for me, but the cold and snow have done their damage and plunged me into a depression.

I’ve pushed myself hard with work and at home I’ve been a slug. I forget to do simple things and I just want to collapse on the couch. I sigh a lot and swear even more.

It’s not fair to my family. But I can’t seem to help it.

On a positive note, I’ve kept my recovery intact. That’s real progress, because this kind of mindset used to make me binge my brains out. Those days were so much worse.

That doesn’t make me satisfied about my current state of mind.

On one hand, I’m excited for the coming trip. I love the fast and furious writing and the copious networking that gets done. I love seeing friends I usually only see on Twitter and Facebook.

On the other hand, I feel terrible about abandoning my family for four days.

It’ll all work out. I know this. But the uneasiness is still there.

I don’t dive into bouts of self-hatred in moments like this like I used to, and that’s very good. I’ve learned to see this mood for what it is: A mild-to-moderate depression that hits after a serious lack of sunlight. Duncan suffers from it, too, though not in the same ways.

It’s just something we have to keep working on.

The depression hit me later this time than it usually does in winter. The happy lamp, proper Prozac dosage and program of recovery have served me well. But I’m starting to realize I’ll probably never be able to go an entire winter without feeling this way.

Tough shit. That’s my cross to carry, and I just have to keep getting better at managing the load without complaint and without becoming useless to those around me.

My Faith will see me through. 

My wife and kids will see me through, even if they’re not happy with my impending travel at the moment.

The 12 Steps of Recovery will see me through.

And once I get to San Francisco, the work at hand will see me through.

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So You Don’t Like Your Job…

Wherein the author suggests people stop complaining about their jobs and be the change.

Tons of Facebook people complain about their jobs. It makes me feel a little guilty because I love my job. OK, it doesn’t, really. But I’ve been in that place before and learned the problem was more me than the job.

Mood music:

[spotify:track:7E8QnPXVk1Sw9Gi06ENZ0i]

There are days where I find it a bit unreal that I have the job I’m in now. I get up in the morning itching to go. I enjoy the company of my co-workers. Given where I’ve been, it’s a little bit strange.

I am fortunate to work for a company with a warm, family-like culture. But I’ve worked for companies like that before and I was miserable. One of my favorite bosses ever had the pleasure of working with me at a time where my demons were ripping me to shreds.

I’ve worked for companies that weren’t like that, too.

All I know is this: Some of my most miserable working days were the result of the ghosts in my head. At the time, I confused those ghosts with the people around me. To be fair to myself, some people were miserable to work for and with, but when you’re slowly having an emotional breakdown every personality tick you come across is exaggerated times 20.

Ever since learning to manage the OCD raging inside of me as well as the related addictions, the same personality ticks don’t hit me that way. Sometimes I’m amused. Most of the time I’m sympathetic or empathetic. How could I not identify?

Still, there are times when I see the whining people do and in a self-impressed haze I forget how I used to be.

One person doesn’t like a teaching gig. Someone else is unhappy with their IT job.

Sorry to hear about it.

I cringe when someone gripes about their job on Facebook, but only because I can’t help but picture their bosses seeing those comments and frothing at the mouth.

Some people even name their boss, or a bigger boss they don’t often see but hate all the same.

Sorry, my friends, but that’s a stupid thing to do. Seriously.

Of course, I’m the last one to tell you how you should behave. But I have learned a few things worth sharing:

–For some people — and this was the case for me when I worked at TechTarget/SearchSecurity –there’s the hope that all will be right with the world if you get out of a job you hate and into something else. I was so desperate to leave The Eagle-Tribune that I would have taken a gig as a trash truck driver if it were available. At one point I seriously considered applying for postal work. TechTarget by comparison was a far better job for me. But I was so messed up inside that I couldn’t enjoy it for the first two years.

–When the change happened inside of me, I think my overall approach to work changed. Had I gone through it while still at The Eagle-Tribune, I might still be working there. I probably would have been happier there simply as the result of getting a grip on my demons. That said, I’m glad things unfolded as they did.

Sometimes it’s not the job that’s the problem. Sometimes it’s just the employee’s state of mind.

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Oddly Enough, This Day Will Not Suck

I’m snowed in again and both kids are home. By 6:20 a.m. they were already fighting over the family laptop. I’m dead tired. But despite it all, I’m thinking this day will NOT suck. Here’s why.

–The first reason is that I started the day by listening to one of my favorite Boston bands, The Neighborhoods, covering one of my favorite Cheap Trick songs:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V3QHFAPcYTM&fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0]

–The second reason is that I got a particularly damn good cup of caffeine by my side. Since there have been storms where the power went out before I got my first cup of coffee, I consider this a blessing of massive proportions.

–The third reason is that I just found an amusing article about a woman busted in the airport security line for trying to smuggle 44 iPhones in her stockings. I have a bit to say about that in my security blog.

–I can spend the work day in my bathrobe and tattered gym pants if I want to. I probably won’t, because at some point I’ll want to change before going out to shovel the driveway. But I could if I wanted to.

–Having Sean and Duncan in close proximity as I try to work won’t be easy. But at some point we’ll break to watch some Star Wars. And for an hour or two, I can be a kid again.

–It’s always nice to have a work-at-home day with my wife, though it’s always nicer when the kids are in school. But it’s still quality time, so I’ll take it.

–I have my sunshine in a box on the table nearby. That makes the darkness of winter a little less glaring to my imbalanced mind. 

–The close proximity to the kids all day makes it likely that I’ll be writing a “Stuff My Kids Say Part 4” later on.

Don’t let the snow get you down, people. Things can always be much, much worse.

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Mental Illness and Cybersecurity

I want to flag you all to a post I just wrote in my security blog, Salted Hash, on CSOonline.com. It’s based on the opening talk at the ShmooCon security conference in Washington D.C.

The speaker, Marsh Ray, uses the fragile mental condition as the basis of a talk called “A paranoid schizophrenia-based model of data security.”

The post I wrote could easily work as a post in this blog. But the most appropriate audience this time were the people I write for in my day job.

Please check it out here, and thanks.

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Be Good To Yourself

Most of us love to beat on ourselves when something goes wrong. That’s certainly true when a recovering addict relapses.  I’m fine now, but I’ve crashed and burned this way many times before.

I’ve learned that the only thing I can do is get back on the horse and ride on, even if I end up falling off a few more times. I either get back up or die. And unless God has other plans, I don’t plan to do that yet.

There’s a lot of music out there that’ll inspire people in relapse to carry on. One of my favorites is this Sixx A.M. song:

[spotify:track:3RXneTIRTlNELctDYlwg5L]

Sure, you can beat the shit out of yourself when the going gets tough. But take it from a guy who’s done that: There’s no fulfillment to be had in beating yourself.

Be good to yourself.

Don’t just do it for yourself.

Do it for the people you care about, because when you’re miserable, they’re miserable.

If making others miserable is OK with you, then you’re just being an idiot.

But your better than that, aren’t you?

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Learning To Be A Kid Again

At a professional training workshop yesterday, the speakers had tons of good advice for being a good leader, but one item in particular hit me where I live: The suggestion that we act more like kids.

Mood music:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9RZXaoaK8NI&fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0]

I’ve struggled mightily with that one over the years. As an OCD head case and addict, I often got confused on what it meant to be an adult vs. being a kid.

Being a kid meant reveling in my mood swings, breaking windows in the big unfinished condominium building behind my house, getting trashed in my basement and hiding behind boxes in my father’s warehouse chain smoking cigarettes. Being an adult meant pleasing the bosses at all costs, wherever I worked, spending 80 hours a week on the job. It meant having no patience for the mess my kids made around the house. It meant not taking chances.

In recovery, things have come into better focus.

I’m learning that being a better man means learning to be a kid again.

Not a kid in the sense that you’re being a spoiled, whiney brat. Not a kid in the sense that you’re obsessed with toys and cartoons. I’m talking about rediscovering the curiosity we had as children, and having the open mind children tend to have because they haven’t yet been tarnished by the big bad outside world.

I learn from my kids all the time. Both are intensely creative and have a beautifully simple way of putting things, while grownups go into a frenzy trying to put their challenges into the proper words.

Lately, my 2-year-old niece, Madison, has been reminding me a lot about the importance of curiosity.

Her favorite question is “why?” She asks it repeatedly with a twinkle in her beautiful eyes. She notices everything in a room and asks about it.

That’s exactly how a journalist is supposed to behave. But for a time I lost my curiosity. I was too locked inside my own head and scared blind about venturing too far out into the world.

In recovery, I’ve gotten those things back, though I’m still learning how to channel it properly.

In yesterday’s training session, one of the speakers brought me a few steps closer to channeling the power of the inner child again. One of her slides included this quote from Dr. Seuss: “I like nonsense. It wakes up the brain cells.”

Since I’ve destroyed a lot of brain cells in my day, I need all the nonsense I can get. Not the nonsense of misbehaving, selfish adults, but that of a child and the things that come out of a child’s mouth.

The same speaker gave us some fascinating statistics about learning. One is that kids under 5 learn about 700 new items per day. The number steadily shrinks as we get older and set in out ways.

So the goal is to adopt a “beginner’s mind” no matter how much we think we know it all.

There are a lot of times where I think I’m too far advanced in life to learn anything new. Roughly translated, I suffer episodes of thinking I’m better than everyone else. 

That’s bullshit, of course. But it’s really how I would think in my sicker moments, even the moments where I was busy hating myself.

I’m a lucky guy. My bosses sent me to a training session about professionalism and leadership, and I’ve learned a lot so far. But some of what I’ve learned will carry me far beyond the confines of my work space.

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The Trouble With Wanting It All, Part 2

Overcoming fear and anxiety has been a beautiful thing. But it has not been without trouble along the way. In recent months I’ve taken on too much and I’ve paid a price. I’m entering a new phase of recovery where my ambitions are readjusted so they gibe with reality.

Mood music:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hCzkT5H7Udg&fs=1&hl=en_US]

I got into some of this stuff in last week’s “Say Hello to My New Limit” post. But when I wrote that, I was feeling emotionally raw and was going through mood swings. This weekend I’ve had time to put it into perspective.

Here’s what I’m thinking and feeling now:

I have definitely taken on too much lately, partially because of my hunger for new experiences. I want to be of service to people who are going through what I’ve gone through. I want to soak up as much time as I can with people I ignored far too much over the years. And I want to continue to work my security beat hard, because I just won’t have it any other way.

But I need to give the best of that energy to Erin, Sean and Duncan. And that means dialing it back a bit.

My dilemma has been how to do that without retreating from the world again, because I really don’t want to do that. And besides, there’s really no turning back.

So this weekend, I pondered how to achieve the right balance.

First, I should mention that I don’t regret a thing about the last few months. To be a team leader for this weekend’s Cursillo retreat is a huge honor and I know it will only make me a better person. And it’s been worth every minute spent writing the talk I’ll be giving. Traveling around to different security events has also been well worth it, because I’m a true believer that you can’t do this job well unless you get out from behind the desk.

I don’t have to stop doing any of this stuff, nor should I. But I CAN learn to say no once in awhile. Saying no is something I’ve always sucked at and it has almost always gotten me into trouble. I’m realizing that the recent mood swings were partly due to my realization that the next part of recovery must be about learning to say no without going back into full retreat.

Maybe that means passing up a few more security events than I’d like. Maybe it means cutting back on my 12-Step sponsorship of people — continuing to be there for the two sponsees I have but saying no to new requests for now.

The learning curve for this is going to be pretty steep. I admit that I don’t really know where to start.

I’ll figure it out, and at the other end I’ll be better for it.

I hope.

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Say Hello to My New Limit

Another mood swing this afternoon. The dark, brooding sky appears to be rubbing off on me. The happy lamp helps, but if I sit in front of it too long I get the sweats. And it’s not the same as sunshine.

Mood music:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AMWhk4u2c4g&fs=1&hl=en_US]

I’ve been having a lot of these episodes lately, and it worries me. It’s most likely the result of my sleep pattern being out of whack. I alternate between too much sleep one day, not enough the next.

The clouds don’t help. It seems like we’ve had a lot of gloomy weather lately, and too much of that will fuck with my head every time.

My biggest concern is that something’s off with the medication, though probably not. One thing I’ve learned is that if you don’t take care of yourself in other ways, like having a consistent sleep pattern, it will blunt the effectiveness of the drug.

The other problem is that I’ve overextended myself, being on team for a Catholic retreat, doing a lot of extra service in my 12-Step program and keeping busy on the work side, along with all the activity that comes with having a first and fourth grader.

Since shaking off the fear and anxiety and cleaning up my act a couple years ago, I’ve had a limitless appetite for new experiences. And so I’ve gone on the road a lot and taken on many projects in and outside of work.

It’s been a blessing. It still is. But it’s possible I’m starting to find my new limit. Perhaps I’m a victim of my own success. There are far worse problems to have.

This is actually a good thing. It’s healthy.

The trick now is in figuring out how to stop over-reaching and achieve the right balance.

It’s too bad I suck at balance.

But it’s never too late to learn how to do it right.

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Happily Ever After Is Bullshit & That’s OK

Often, when depression slaps me upside the head, it’s on the heels of a prolonged period of good feelings and positive energy. Especially this time of year, when the daylight recedes early and returns late. These setbacks can be discouraging, but you can survive them with the right perspective.

Mood music:

http://youtu.be/NqTuN-35580

It’s easy for people who fight mental illness and addictive behavior to go on an endless, futile search for the happily ever after, where you somehow find the magic bullet to murder your demons, thus beginning years of bliss and carefree existence.

I’m sorry to tell you this, folks: That line of thinking is bullshit.

There’s no such thing as happily ever after. If you want it that badly, go watch a Disney film.

I used to grope around for eternal happiness in religious conversion. But some of my hardest days came AFTER I was Baptized a Catholic. I eventually found my way to abstinence and sobriety and got a pretty good handle on the OCD. But there have been plenty of sucky days since then.

The slide back into depression this past weekend was an example.

I like to think of these setbacks as growing pains. We’re supposed to have bad days to test the better angels of our nature. We’re supposed to learn how to move forward despite the obstacles that used to make us hide and get junked up. When you can stay sober and keep your mental disorders in check despite a bad day, that’s REAL recovery.

This is where I consider myself lucky for having had Crohn’s Disease. That’s a chronic condition. It comes and goes. But you can reach a point where the flare ups are minimal.

It’s the same with mental illness and addiction. You can’t rid yourself of it completely. But you can reach a point — through a lot of hard work and leaps of Faith — where the episodes are minimal.

The depression flared up this weekend, just like the Crohn’s Disease used to. But I’m better now. And I didn’t have to take a drug like Prednisone to get there. I just needed a little extra sleep.

Prozac, therapy and the 12 Steps have helped me immensely. But they don’t take the deeper pain at your core away. These things just help you deal with the rough days without getting sucked back into the abyss.

The depression I experienced this weekend felt more like a flare up of arthritis than that desperate, mournful feeling I used to get. It was a nag, but it didn’t break me. It used to break me all the time.

That’s progress.

Maybe I’m not happy forever after, but that’s OK. My ability to separate the blessings from the bullshit has improved considerably in the last five years.

That’s good enough for me.