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Surviving the Persistence of Time

Here I am at another birthday. I’ve been telling people I couldn’t care less this year. It’s been a rough summer with too much upheaval, too much grief. There’s not much to celebrate. But the truth is, I’m grateful to be here.

Mood music:

That I’m now in my mid 40s is surprising — in my mind, at least.

When I was sick with Crohn’s Disease as a kid, I lost a lot of blood and developed several side ailments. When the OCD was burning out of control, I often felt I’d die young. I had a fatalistic view of things and just assumed I wasn’t long for this world and I didn’t care. I certainly did a lot to help the dying process along.

I also had a strange fear of current events and was convinced at one point that the world would burn in a nuclear holocaust before I hit 30.

When I was a prisoner to fear and anxiety, I really didn’t want to live long. I isolated myself.  I spent much of my 30s on the couch with a shattered back, escaping through TV. I was breathing, but I was as good as dead some of the time.

Despite all that, I’m still here. And while it’s been a rough year, particularly since March, I’m grateful. I’m grateful for my wife, my children and my career.

I’m grateful for my faith, which has certainly helped me. I’m grateful for the army of friends and extended family that has been there in times good and bad. And I’m grateful for the good luck I’ve had.

With that in mind, celebrating might be appropriate after all. I think I’ll give it a try.

Persistence of Time by Salvador Dali
“Persistence of Time,” by Salvador Dali
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The Boy Inside the Man: An Inspirational Story

This blog is my personal tale. That it helps some people because they can relate to it was an unexpected bonus that I try to live up to. As part of that I will share personal tales from other people that have taught me a lot. The latest example is “Being ‘Whole’ Isn’t My Goal” by Paul Nobles.

I don’t know Nobles personally, but the man captures things I relate to.

He writes of things that happened in childhood that confused him and fostered a lot of anger as a young man. He writes of an invisible hole inside him that he could never fill. He writes of how food filled the hole after he put down the drugs and alcohol. He writes of using exercise as a crutch.

At one point he says:

Inside me is a little boy sitting on a couch with police surrounding me asking if I’m alright and that answer is, ‘No, I am not alright.’ I will never be ALL RIGHT but I am working on that.

Everyone has a story. Please read his.

Survival Book in the Jungle

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A 6-Step Grief Survival Guide

Written in 2015, at the death of my father and aunt a week apart. The hard lessons started when I lost my brother in 1984 and my best friend in 1996. 

Having lost more friends and family than I care to count, I’ve tried writing posts over the years that make sense of grief. Or, at least, how I’ve worked through mine.

Mood music:

With the loss of my aunt and my father in the past month, I find myself thinking about those older writings. So I assembled this list. Its first purpose is to help me keep my perspective and regain my equilibrium. The second purpose, I hope, is to help others work through their own stages of grief.

  1. Let it suck. Don’t be a hero. If you’re feeling pain, let it out. You don’t have to do it in front of people. Go in a room by yourself and let the waterworks flow if you have to. Don’t worry about trying to keep a manly face around people. You don’t have to pretend you’re A-OK for the sake of others in the room. In my case, when people ask how I’m doing, I just tell them I’m working through it. It’s more honest than saying I’m doing great, and I avoid language that takes me into pity-party territory.
  2. Don’t forget the gratitude. When someone dies, it’s easy to get lost in your own grief. There’s even a self-pity reflex that kicks in. Try to take the time to remember how awesome your loved one was. Share the most amusing memories and have some laughs. The deceased would love that. And you’ll feel more at peace when you remember a life that was lived well.
  3. Take a moment to appreciate what’s still around you. Your girlfriend. Your friends. If the death you just suffered should teach you anything, it’s that you never know how long the other loves of your life will be around. Don’t waste the time you have with them.
  4. Don’t sit around looking at people you love and worrying yourself into an anxiety attack over the fact that God could take them from you at any moment. God holds all the cards, so it’s pointless to even think about it. Just be there for people, and let them be there for you.
  5. Take care of yourself. You can comfort yourself with all the drugs, alcohol, sex, and food there are to have. But take it from me, giving in to addictions is nothing but slow suicide. You can’t move past grief and see the beauty of what’s left if you’re too busy trying to kill yourself. True, I learned a ton about the beauty of life from being an addict, but that doesn’t mean I’d ever wish that experience on others. If there’s a better way to cope, do it.
  6. Embrace things that are bigger than you. Nothing has helped me get past grief more than doing service to others. It sounds like so much bullshit, but it’s not. Whether I’m helping out friends in need or doing last month’s Out of Darkness walk to raise money for suicide-prevention programs, I’m reminded that my own life could be much worse. Or, to put it another way, I’m reminded of how blessed I am.

This isn’t a science. It’s just what I’ve learned from my own walk through the valley of darkness. I’ve learned that life is a gift to be cherished and used wisely. I’ve also learned that it hurts sometimes. That’s OK.

battle_scars_by_eddietheyeti
“Battle Scars” by EddieTheYeti
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My Kill Switch

For someone accustomed to rising at 4 a.m. on a typical day, getting up at 7 a.m. is a lot like sleeping in. Lately, though, I’ve outdone myself in spades. Some days, I can’t seem to get out of bed before 9 or 10.  I’ve been napping a lot, too. Not just cat naps, but three-hour stretches of being out cold.

Mood music:

https://youtu.be/s3TRns_zssM

This is what I call my kill switch. During tough times, my body and brain simply check out.

Lately, it’s because of the chaos that comes from losing an aunt and a father eight days apart.

In the past, the kill switch activated during periods of high tension and drama. One time a hurricane was headed for Massachusetts and, living on Revere Beach, I was terrified of storm surge. During the wait, I curled up on the floor and proceeded to sleep through most of the storm.

Another time I got into a bad fight with a family member that sent me over the edge. I fell onto the couch and slept an afternoon away.

I think it’s a survival tool, albeit an inconvenient one that can kick in at inconvenient times. I also don’t like to sleep through life. But it’s all but impossible for me to control.

When I stop sleeping late and taking so many naps, it’ll be a sign that I’m through this latest rough patch in my life.

Man Lying Down

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Brian Wilson and The Beach Boys

Being a metalhead, one would expect me to hate a group like The Beach Boys, yet I’ve played them nonstop for a month now.

Mood music:

I started taking an interest after seeing a preview for the film Love and Mercy, in which actors Paul Dano and John Cusack play Brian Wilson during two stages of his life — the 1960s and the 1980s. I started playing the whole Beach Boys catalog, particularly the album Pet Sounds, widely viewed as Wilson’s masterpiece.

That album was a commercial disappointment when it came out in the mid-1960s. People expected to hear more songs about girls and surfing, but instead they got a series of musical pieces in which Wilson exposed his vulnerable soul for all to see.

I’ve been listening to Smile a lot, too. That album was supposed to be the follow-up to Pet Sounds but was shelved as the band — and Wilson’s fragile mind — fell into chaos. Wilson ultimately finished the album a decade ago and toured behind it. (There’s a great documentary about Smile on YouTube.)

Now I’m reading Catch a Wave: The Rise, Fall, and Redemption of the Beach Boys’ Brian Wilson by Peter Ames Carlin, which chronicles his life from childhood through his many years of madness and finally to his 21st-century resurgence.

The attraction is that I can relate to Wilson’s struggles. I never heard voices in my head like he did, but I’ve suffered the kind of depression that kept me in bed, and I know what it’s like to overeat when depressed. His choice to explore his feelings on Pet Sounds was groundbreaking at the time and brave. It inspires me.

It’s also a great musical history lesson. Reading about the way Wilson wrote and recorded gives me a lot of insight into the techniques we’ve seen in more recent decades.

I won’t stop devouring heavy metal, but it’s fun to expand my musical horizons.

Love and Mercy Poster

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Just Admit You Were Wrong

When you passionately push opinions, it sucks to be proven wrong later. It’s happened to me plenty of times, and I’ve learned to simply correct the record as I go. Doing so keeps me honest.

What follows are posts I’ve done here and in my work-related blogs when I’ve had a change of heart.

The lesson: When you’re wrong, just admit it. It’s the right thing to do, and it will keep your credibility intact.

“The Women at RSA Conference 2015“
A couple years ago I suggested that renowned writer Violet Blue had no business speaking at BSidesSF because she wasn’t a security practitioner and this was a security conference. As I got to know her work better over time, I realized she did indeed bring something to the table.

“Revisiting My Earlier Argument About Security Curmudgeons“
In May 2011, while writing the Salted Hash blog for CSOonline, I wrote a post called “Take the Word Curmudgeon and Shove It.” I took aim at those in the industry who pride themselves on being cynical and suggested that they cut the vitriol. I still see this as a problem, but back then I painted the community with too wide a brush.

“I Was Wrong About Lance Armstrong“
When Lance Armstrong was first accused of doping, I defended him. I saw someone who had overcome cancer to rise to the top of his game, so I argued that he didn’t deserve to be stripped of his seven Tour de France titles. Time and additional evidence proved me wrong, so I said so.

“The Danger of False Memories“
I didn’t own up to any specific misjudgment in this post. But I did note that in a semi-autobiographical blog, it’s easy to mis-remember the past.

“Spectre of the Past” by EddieTheYeti
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The Burden of Being Upright, Part 2

I’ve written a lot about the frustrations that come with trying to be a good man when you carry so much baggage. The burden of being upright is something we all carry, but it’s really been weighing on me of late.

Mood music:

https://youtu.be/KNcvGwaJ-lI

This isn’t a pity party. But I’ve learned over the years that listing my issues and what I’m doing about them can help put them into perspective for me and can encourage others to do the same. The stressers in my life are not unique to me; it’s the kind of stuff every human being must deal with.

So what’s going on lately?

My father is bedridden and in a home, and my aunt — his sister — suffered a stroke and was unresponsive in the hospital for a couple of weeks. She’s responding a little now, but still. I’m not dealing with either of these things on my own, however. My sisters have been particularly awesome about communicating with my aunt’s doctors, and my stepmom has tirelessly seen to my father’s needs.

My frustration stems from the fact that I can’t do more. Living an hour away, traveling frequently for work and raising two young sons means I can’t drive to my father or aunt at the drop of a hat. This makes me feel guilty and failed as a son and nephew. Does my frustration square with reality? Probably not, but I feel it all the same.

Meanwhile, my depression was particularly brutal this past winter. And since the cold air and piles of snow are still here in April, I’m struggling more to come out of it.

I worry about not doing enough to keep the connection with my wife and kids going as strongly as it needs to be. As a result, some hang-ups have taken hold, the kind of stuff that comes from insecurity and is too personal to get into even here.

What am I doing about all of this?

I’m doing everything I can to move forward. I’ve played my guitar every day. I’m even taking walks most days — not yet consistently but more so than I have in a long time. And since I have a charity walk to prepare for, I’m going to keep walking.

My diet could be better, but I’ve managed to stabilize more than it has been in recent months.

I’ll keep plugging along with that stuff, and it’ll work. But it’s going to take longer than I want. That’s OK, though, because as long as I’m moving forward, I’m moving in the right direction.

face being punched by a boxing glove

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Metal Made Me Smarter Than I Appeared

I was never considered a particularly smart kid. I didn’t care much about my school work and was written off by some teachers as a waste of space. But according to a new study about smart kids listening to heavy metal, I was apparently just pretending to be stupid.

Mood music:

A study of more than 1,000 of the brightest five percent of young people found that intelligent teenagers often listen to heavy metal music to cope with the pressures associated with being talented.

Stuart Cadwallader, a psychologist at the University of Warwick, presented recently findings. The research found that, far from being a sign of delinquency and poor academic ability, many adolescent metalheads are super bright and often use the music to help them deal with pressure.

Researchers polled 1,057 members of the National Academy for Gifted and Talented Youth. Asked for their favorite type of music, 39 percent said rock, 18 percent R&B and 14 percent pop. Six percent said metal and a third rated it in their top five genres. Metal fans acknowledged having lower self-esteem and more trouble with family and friendships.

As part of the study, Cadwallader held an online discussion with 19 academy members, 17 of whom were metal fans. They said they listen to bands like System of a Down, Slipknot, Tool, DragonForce, ¡Forward Russia! and In Flames when they’re in a bad mood and use it to vent frustration and anger.

Now, truth be told, I wouldn’t say I was particularly smart as a kid. But I did have talents, including drawing and writing. I also had a ton of trouble relating to my peers and getting along with family. The music absolutely helped me. At the least, it gave me an outlet for my anger that might have otherwise been spent punching people in the face.

I’m always happy to see studies like this, because it shows I’m not alone and never have been.

Double-neck guitars

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A Priest Comes Clean About Binge Eating

I’ve written at length about two things in this blog: my struggle with compulsive binge eating and my faith. My faith helps me deal with my demons, including the eating. So when a priest comes forward and admits he has a similar demon to fight, I take notice.

Mood music:

Rev. Ryan Rooney, a parochial vicar at Our Lady of the Sacred Heart Parish in Springfield, Mass., did just that in an article he wrote about his struggle. I dug further and found that he writes quite a bit about his journey in his blog, The Weigh and the Truth: A Catholic Priest on a Weight Loss Journey.

In the opening paragraph of the article, Rooney describes a scenario I’m all too familiar with:

A year and a half ago, I would have been sitting down in a room of similar size but crowded with food wrappers and neglected dirty laundry. I probably would have been wolfing down a carton of Chinese food and binge-watching endless episodes of a Netflix drama. I was 200 pounds heavier, stressed, depressed, unsure about my future in the priesthood. My body was slowly shutting down, and I was inching closer toward being unable to dress myself.

I too spent long hours in a room, scarfing down food, ignoring my personal hygiene, and feasting on endless TV.

Rooney met his demon head on. He refocused on his faith and set about losing some 200 pounds. He’s an inspiration.

He’s not the first priest to open up about his sins. My former pastor, the late Rev. Dennis Nason, once went public about his battle with alcoholism. At the time, it was one of the things that inspired me to face my own maladies.

As Easter approaches, I’m more grateful than ever for Church leaders who are willing to show their humanity.

Dream of Sacrifice by EddieTheYeti
“Dream of Sacrifice,” by EddieTheYeti
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The Bright Side of Being Buried Alive

Here in Massachusetts, hell has frozen over. We have six feet of snow on the ground and at least two more snowstorms in the forecast. The kids have had 2-3 snow days a week since late January. Public transportation is at a standstill. Words like “unprecedented” and “historic” keep surfacing.

Mood music (sure, this song is about cocaine, but the title fits):

But I’m here to tell my fellow citizens that it could be worse.

Seriously.

True, winter tends to disagree with me. This is the time of year where seasonal depression typically kicks my ass. I’m usually the last guy to see silver linings in those snow clouds. But really, folks, this could be so much worse. Consider the following:

  • The storms so far have dumped light, fluffy snow. That means power outages have been minimal. Here in Haverhill, we’ve had power throughout.
  • Families have gotten a lot of extra quality time this winter. Around here, we’ve enjoyed several movie nights a week instead of the usual one or two. So what if the house is in shambles?
  • In this day and age, the Internet makes working from home much more feasible. A lot of people still have to trudge through the snow to work. But many of us can work anywhere where there’s an Internet connection.
  • It’s no longer pitch black at 5 p.m. Longer days will inevitably give way to spring and warmer weather.

We will survive. We will prosper.

And yes, we will cry some more after another two or three feet have fallen.

snowman with sign: I'll be dead soon