Horse Platitudes

PLATITUDE: A banal, trite, or stale remarkMerriam-Webster Collegiate Dictionary

CNN online has an article about “instant outrage,” something that has reached absurd levels in this age of social networking.

In such moments of outrage, we’re dropping platitudes all over the place. A good example came after the Sandy Hook massacre, when the debate about gun control was re-ignited. Those against more gun control trotted out the old, tired, “Guns don’t kill people. People kill people.”

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We’ve become addicted to platitudes. Platitudes about politics, religion, parenting, education and, most annoyingly, celebrities who show their humanity.

The political stuff has been loudest this past year because of the presidential election and President Obama winning a second term. My conservative friends litter Facebook with grand statements about how the president is a freedom-hating, baby-killing, money-stealing dictator. My liberal friends make big statements about Republicans as wealth-obsessed, war-obsessed, mean-spirited bastards who are happy to crash the nation’s economy in an act of spite.

Both sides overreact, but don’t ever try to tell them that. They’ll just drop more platitudes on you.

There are some well-meaning platitudes, and I appreciate the attempt at good feelings. But they still annoy.

For example, there are the countless sayings and cartoons about depression not being about weakness but about being strong for too long. My fight against my own depression and that of others is well known here, but really, people, is the overbearing mush really going to save any lives? I think not.

The same goes for the online platitudes comparing cancer patients to Klingon warriors defeating the evil disease in glorious battle. That one doesn’t bother me quite as much. If it gives the many cancer patients I know the moral boost to fight on, so be it.

Overall, though, the lack of restraint in the proclamations we make has become a problem. They make us feel better about ourselves, and thinking oneself better than others can lead to unfortunate side effects, like being an asshole.

If we don’t rein it in, evolution is going to retaliate by giving us new, larger mouths with larger tongues and teeth. In a few generations, we’ll all resemble Mr. Ed.

What I just said might be interpreted as a hatred of horses because of their big mouths. In no time, there will be pictures of me on the Internet killing horses and putting them in burgers.

It won’t ring true, but it’ll be re-posted often. Because in our addiction to platitudes, we won’t be able to help ourselves.

Horse

The Information Technology Burnout Project

The Information Technology Burnout Project, created by friends in the security community, addresses something most of us experience at one point or another: work-induced depression.

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The website is only part of the project. Project members have also held panel discussions about job stress and burnout at various security conferences across the United States. During those discussions, people have been open about the depression, despair and hopelessness they’ve traveled through in the face of mounting job stress. We know that stress has led to suicide in the IT world. Aaron Swartz is just one of the latest examples.

When I started this blog, I worried about how I’d be perceived in the infosec community. By that point my need to rip the skeletons out of my closet overrode such concern, but I held my breath and sweated it for a few days. I didn’t expect the eventual response, though I probably should have.

My work community started opening up about their own struggles with depression, anxiety and the resulting addictions. These were and still are people that are tough as steel, which was actually comforting. If people like that could let cracks in their armor show, perhaps I wasn’t so crazy after all.

The work of breaking the stigmas around mental illness took on a more intense urgency for me, and here we are, more than three years later.

Related posts:
Friends of the Gifted Need to Learn Suicide Prevention Tactics
Fired for Being Depressed
Mental Illness and Cybersecurity

I’ve had my bouts of job burnout and all the depression and anxiety that goes with it, though most of it was before I started focusing on infosec. As an editor at a daily paper, I struggled to keep newsroom politics from getting to me. I tried to stay above all the backstabbing, criticism from upper management and side effects that came from working late-night hours. I failed, at least for a while, and conducted myself in ways I’m ashamed of to this day.

When I finally got out of the mainstream news business and landed in a much more supportive office environment, I remained on edge. On the surface I appeared calm, and the bosses were happy with the work I was doing. But inside I was dying, one traumatized molecule at a time.

I eventually found my way out of it. But when someone in my work circle is going through something similar, I can spot it from a mile away.

Fortunately, I’m not the only one who can.

I’m proud of the friends who started the Information Technology Burnout Project. They are breaking the stigma and, through the website, offer coping tools and inspirational stories that can and will make a difference.

One such friend noted last week that the project has lost some momentum since last year’s RSA Conference, mainly because everyone is increasingly busy with work projects. He’s hoping to rekindle the earlier momentum and asked for help.

Count me in, starting with this post.

Burnt match

Lessons From the Hemingway Curse

I’ve always been drawn to Ernest Hemingway and his family, not because of his writings or his antics, but because of the deep stain mental illness has left on the Hemingway legacy.

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I remember an English teacher talking about Hemingway’s 1961 suicide. The teacher suggested Hemingway was an asshole, that he was too macho to accept that he was getting too old to seek out adventure and thus gave up. I accepted that answer for a long time, and when my best friend killed himself in 1996 the Hemingway perception colored how I dealt with my own loss.

Hemingway was an asshole for doing what he did, the teacher had suggested. Therefore, my friend was an asshole for doing what he did.

It’s too bad I saw it that way. If I knew the truth about mental illness back then, I would have had a healthier outlook on what had happened in my life. I still would have grieved, of course. But maybe I wouldn’t have been so haunted for so long. I’m not bitter about that. I ultimately learned my lessons and was able to make peace with the past. But my awareness has drawn me to other suicide cases, including those of the Hemingways.

Besides the famous author, actress Margaux Hemingway ended her life in 1996, the same year as my friend. All told, seven members of Ernest’s family have died by taking their own lives, according to CNN.

It makes sense. Depression runs in families and so can the coping tools for dealing with that depression.

Looking for resources to manage your depression? Check out our Coping with Depression, Fear and Anxiety page.

The CNN story mainly discusses the so-called Hemingway curse and how actress Mariel Hemingway, sister of Margaux and granddaughter of Ernest, has dealt with it. From the article:

Every family, even famous ones, have secrets. The Hemingways are no different. “We were, sort of, the other American family that had this horrible curse,” says Mariel Hemingway. She compared her family to the Kennedys — but the Hemingway curse, she said, is mental illness. Hemingway explores the troubled history of her family in “Running from Crazy,” a documentary that premiered at the Sundance Film Festival. “Knowing that there’s so much suicide and so much mental illness in my family, I’ve always kind of been ‘running from crazy,’ worried that one day I’d wake up and be in the same position,” Mariel Hemingway, 51, said at a support group for families of suicide, as shown in the film.

Making the film must have been a liberating experience for her. By pulling all those family skeletons from the closet, she’s freed herself from some of the haunting and educated a lot of people in the process. That’s always been one of my main motivations in doing this blog.

If blogs like mine and documentaries like hers can bring a few people some peace of mind and detonate the stigmas around mental illness, it will have been worth it.

Ernest Hemingway

The Snow Day Has Been Cancelled

Weather forecasters said we’d get a lot of snow, but only a dusting fell around here. School is on after all, and the kids will surely be disappointed. It goes to show that sometimes life doesn’t work out as planned.

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As a man with OCD, I’ve learned this lesson the hard way. When you have a brain that never stops thinking, you tend to expect certain things out of your day. When the expectation is a bad one and isn’t fulfilled, it’s a huge weight off the shoulders. Expect to be told that you have cancer and then learn it’s just a benign lump is freeing.

But when you expect something good and it doesn’t happen — a snow day, a night out, a promotion at work — the sudden change of events can be devastating to a guy like me.

I know the disappointment Sean and Duncan will feel when they wake up to a day of school after all. I experienced that let-down often enough as a kid. Many of us have. One time in fourth grade, I was so upset that a snow day didn’t materialize as expected that I made myself sick. I got to stay home that day after all, but I spent it throwing up and cowering under the assault of a migraine. It was a sign of things to come.

As I’ve gotten older and gained more control over my OCD, I’ve gotten a lot better at managing the expectation game. At the least, I’m able to proceed with my day and make the necessary adjustments without the old sense of dread and the feeling that maybe God hated me.

But I still get thrown for a loop sometimes when expectations don’t pan out. A couple of weeks ago, I was gleefully anticipating a Saturday night out with Erin watching friends’ bands play. Because of illness things didn’t work out and I was bitterly disappointed. I carried a bad mood into the next day.

It can happen to all of us once in a while. But when you have something like OCD, every emotion is exaggerated.

I’m glad I’m better at getting over it. Hopefully, my kids will get better at it, too.

School Bus in the Snow

Friends Of The Gifted Need To Learn Suicide Intervention Tactics

One thing I’ve learned over the years: Some super-smart, super-gifted, ahead-of-their-time people often battle with depression and eventually lose their war. So it was for my best friend who took his life 16 years ago. So it has been for far too many of my industry peers.

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I’m thinking of them and for those who continue to struggle with depression daily. I’m grateful, particularly in my industry, for those who have stepped up to support those who need help.

A few years ago, one friend suggested creating a suicide intervention tactics workshop at security cons, focusing specifically on gifted tech folks who are particularly vulnerable. That idea has led to a lot of great content that has no doubt saved lives.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned since starting this blog, it’s that depression and anxiety run high in the information security industry. I’ve had many discussions with people who have battled their own demons. All of them were brilliant, innovative and downright gifted.

They remind me of my long-dead friend. I often think about how his intelligence made him hyper-aware of the world around him. He had moments of extreme joy and extreme pain. You could say he knew too much to be happy.

If there’s one thing I wish I had back then, it would be the skills to see where he was headed and the tactics to help him back off the ledge.

To Amber’s point, friends and colleagues of the sufferers in our industry need to learn tactics to make a difference.

I don’t consider myself gifted, but in the last several years I’ve found tools to cope with my own depressed feelings. I’ve learned to use music, humor, writing and counseling as weapons against the dark. Medication alone is never enough. Sometimes, it makes things worse.

Those tools are essential, as are tactics we could all use to help those who can’t seem to help themselves. Putting those things on display at tech conferences (virtual and, eventually, in-person again) could be as important as the technology on display.

I’ll keep trying to do my part to make it happen.

Skeleton in Pain

Aaron Swartz and How to Deal With Suicide

I read many articles this weekend about the suicide of Internet prodigy and activist Aaron Swartz. Most were about how we should view his legacy in the face of charges that he used MIT’s computers to gain illegal access to millions of scholarly papers kept by JSTOR, a subscription-only service for distributing scientific and literary journals.

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Some call Swartz a hero who stood up for Internet freedoms. Others point out that he broke the law and had to be punished.

All that is beside today’s main point: The 26-year-old, co-creator of RSS and Reddit, was a tortured soul, the victim of a horrible illness many still fail to comprehend. It’s an illness I suffer from, and it claimed the life of my best friend 16-plus years ago.

Swartz, a man I never met, was open about his depression. Like other sufferers — like me — he wanted people to understand that it was a true illness, as dangerous to the body and the brain as cancer is when left unchecked.

Now he’s another tragic statistic, and those left behind have to come to terms with the nature of his death.

In the years since my friend’s death, I developed a code of conduct that allowed me to stop wallowing over that evil day in November 1996:

  • Don’t blame yourself; it’s pointless. No matter how many times you replay events in your mind, the fact is that it’s not your fault. For one thing, it’s impossible to get into the head of someone who is contemplating suicide. Sure, there are signs, but since we all get the blues sometimes, it’s very easy to dismiss the signs as a normal bout of depression. When someone loudly contemplates suicide, it’s usually a cry for help. When they say nothing and even appear OK, it’s usually because they’ve made their decision and are in the quiet, planning stages.
  • Don’t blame others; it’s equally pointless. Take it from me: Nerves in your circle of family and friends are so raw right now that it won’t take much for relationships to break apart. A week after my friend’s death I wrote a column about it, revealing what, in hindsight, was too much detail. His family was furious and most of them haven’t talked to me since. They feel I was exploiting his death to advance my writing career and get attention. What I’ve learned, and this is tough to admit, is that you’re going to have to let it go when the finger pointing starts. It’s better not to engage the other side. Nobody is in their right mind at this point, so go easy on each other. Give people space to make their errors in judgment and learn from them.
  • Don’t demonize the dead. When a friend takes their life, one thing that can gnaw at survivors is the notion that if they believe in Heaven and Hell, they believe those who kill themselves are doomed to the latter. I’m a devout Catholic, so you can bet your ass this one has gone through my mind. What I’ve learned, though, is that depression is a clinical disease. A person suffering from depression who then kills themselves isn’t in control of their actions, and Catholics, at least, don’t believe God punishes them for that.

    Even if you don’t believe in an afterlife, you might feel angry at your loved one for intentionally leaving you just when they did. It comes to the same thing: that person was sick and couldn’t make good decisions. My practice today is to simply pray that those souls will be redeemed and that they will know peace. It’s really the best you can do.
  • Break the stigma. One of the friends Swartz left behind has already done something that honors him: She went on Facebook and directed people toward the American Association of Suicidology website, specifically the page on knowing the warning signs. That’s a great example of doing something to honor your friend’s memory instead of sitting around second-guessing yourself. The best thing to do now is to educate people on the disease so that sufferers can help themselves and friends and family can really be of service.
  • Get on with your life. Nobody will blame you for not being yourself for a while. You have, after all, just experienced one of the worst tragedies there is. But try not to let it paralyze you. Life must go on. You have to get on with your work and be there for those around you.

Life can be brutal. But it is a beautiful thing. Seize it.

Aaron Swartz

My ADD Ran Over My OCD

As I struggle to get through all the stuff to be done at work and home before Christmas, something is occurring to me: My ADD runs over my OCD this time of year.

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I guess I’ve understood what happens for a while now. It’s all part of the seasonal depression that whacks me upside the head come Christmastime. For most of the year my challenge is to control my OCD, to keep it from overtaking my mind and sending me into physical overdrive. But earlier this year, I learned from my doctors that I also have ADD. It feeds into the winter pattern where I’m much more easily tired and forgetful.

Unfortunately for me, December isn’t a time where I can kick back, enjoy my December-itis and let the world float by on pretty clouds. At work, we’re busy finishing up some big projects we’re using to kick off January. At home, there are appointments and Scouting activities to drive the boys to. There are gifts to wrap, laundry to fold, groceries to buy, homework for the kids to finish up and a house to clean.

I’m like Luke Skywalker after he escapes the wampa cave on Hoth in The Empire Strikes Back, flailing around and stumbling in the snow.

So what am I sitting here thinking about? I’m feeling whiny because the damn OCD doesn’t surface when I really need it. As insidious as the disorder can be, it’s pretty damn handy when there’s a lot to do. It gives you a drive other people don’t have.

In recent years I’ve had a lot more success harnessing that piece of it while keeping the darker traits locked away. But when winter roles through, the ADD kicks in and spoils everything.

Funny how this works. It’s like the person who longs for summer heat waves in the dead of winter, then pines for winter’s icy grip when he’s sweating through July and August. In the summer I want to be a little more mellow; in December I need the overdrive to get everything done.

What to do?

Fight it, of course.

Erin’s worried I’m not going to get done everything I have on my plate. I’m out to prove I can get it all done.

What could possibly go wrong?

ESBWampaCave

When Living in the Past Is Your Only Sanctuary

I had coffee with a friend and former coworker recently, and we reminisced about some of the colorful characters we’ve worked with. One person we particularly admired has suffered through a life of depression, fear and anxiety and is mostly a recluse these days.

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When this person does surface to talk to someone, the topic is always the old days. He carefully avoids the present because it’s so painful. Talking about the past is safer. We’ve been there. There are no strangers to deal with, no surprises. The past is etched in stone. It’s a safe cave you can hide in without worrying about the walls crashing in.

I understand why people with fear and anxiety hide in the past, because I used to do it all the time when my demons were getting the better of me.

I’ve always been a history buff, and I’ve read a ton of books on the subject, though lately I’ve been reading more music-related books. My interest is partly because I need lessons on how people in the past lived right and wrong. I want to read about the strengths someone used to make a mark on the ages and try incorporating some of that into my life.

But I’ll be honest: Those history books were a big, thick blanket I could hide under. Instead of trying to deal with the present, I’d loiter in FDR’s second-floor study in the White House (today’s Yellow Oval Room). I’d hang out in the smoke-filled rooms of Capitol Hill, enjoying a smoke of my own and watching the masters make grand bargains.

I did something similar by hiding in movies. By watching a Star Trek film, I could witness some adventure without getting shot or stabbed in the real world.

I think one of the reasons I don’t read quite as much history or watch as many science fiction films anymore is that I beat the fear and anxiety. I still have moments of anxiety, but not the fearful variety. With that fear gone, I’m more comfortable hanging out in the present and even participating in it. Good thing, too, because my work and family life leaves little time for the old ways.

True, reading a rock star biography deals with the past, too, but I also get a lot of information about how favorite songs I listen to today came about. Since I’m playing guitar again, I enjoy them even more.

I also go back to the history books on occasion. The difference is that I’m not afraid to leave the past when reading time is done. In fact, I’m usually eager to return to the present.

I’m praying hard that it’ll turn out that way for my old friend, because he deserves better.

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The OCD Diaries in Book Form

Erin and I are making plans for 2013. One is to turn The OCD Diaries into book form.

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Almost since the beginning of this blog, readers have suggested that I do an OCD Diaries book. Flattering as that suggestion is, I sort of balked at the notion. This began as a memoir of sorts, and that might have been worth making a book out of. But the subject matter quickly evolved, and I’ve felt that wrapping the whole thing into one book would be cumbersome to the reader.

But Friday I got an idea: I could do a series of books &mdash smaller, bite-sized works we could make available in print and digital formats. I could set them up to have the feel and reading experience of the Devotionals you see offered in various religious communities. The print editions would be pocket-sized so you could pull ’em out as needed.

So far, we’re planning topics to include:

  • Dealing with OCD, depression and other disorders
  • Living through addiction
  • Dealing with grief
  • Spirituality
  • A survival guide for children and parents
  • A survival guide for relationships
  • Life with Crohn’s Disease and how the related coping tools apply to a multitude of health challenges
  • A book of humor, featuring selections from humor writers I admire
  • The common element tying it all together will be pieces of my back story, what I’ve experienced and how I’ve learned to manage the challenges.

    These will not be books telling you how you should live. I’m the last guy on Earth who should be advising you on that. They will simply be stories of what I’ve done and why, with lots of resource material so you can seek out the professional experts.

    Onward.

    Pile of Books

Starting Over

In a lot of ways, I feel like I’ve been starting everything over this past week. Not in big, drastic ways, but in little ways that will hopefully add up to something good.

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There’s the afternoon tea I’ve been drinking instead of Red Bull and more coffee. There’s the meditation and yoga. And there’s the significant tightening of my food plan.

What’s the reason for all this?

I attribute some of it to the mindfulness-based stress reduction course I’m taking. I’m not sure it’s gotten me to the point of a sharper attention span and ability to live every minute in the moment, but the tools I’m learning are designed to get me there eventually.

The food clean-up is more about getting back on the horse after months adrift in the Overeater’s Anonymous wilderness. I never slipped back into the pattern of binge eating, but I was certainly getting sloppy. I was using way too much cheese for protein. On the last shopping trip I stocked up on salmon to use instead. Erin asked if this was my latest obsession. It’s really just me getting back to basics. I still haven’t returned to the OA meetings or gotten a sponsor, but one thing at a time.

My return to guitar playing has definitely been a factor. When I play I’m right in the moment, where I should be. I realized I play better when drinking tea than when drinking coffee. The chords are steadier and cleaner when I’m not on coffee overload. Another example of one good habit leading to another.

It’s fitting that all this is happening in the autumn. It’s usually the time of year when my mood and grip on life start to slip. Making changes this time of the year is turning out to be a powerful thing.

It’s also fitting because autumn four years ago was when I first decided my worst addictions had to stop owning me. That’s when I kicked flour and sugar and started weighing out my food. A year later I was done with alcohol.

Temptations still come and go. But the key is to take it a day at a time and get back on the horse when you fall off.

That’s what I’m learning, anyway. Hopefully, all of this will continue.

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