Tag: anxiety

Waking Up Feeling* Empty

~ Henry Butterfly ~ Leave a comment

I don’t know how to guide anyone on this topic. Really, I don’t. I’m scrambling myself right now trying to cope with the title of this blog. Each morning it feels like something new, but it’s almost impossible to pick out why I feel the way I feel from one day to the next. I’ll admit it, last night I felt empty as well. This morning? It’s amplified.

My initial thoughts this morning were along the lines of:
– What the fuck do I do for the next 16 hours?
– Meh, vacation is over. Back to my normal routine.
– I’ll be alone all day.
– At least I have my dogs.
– Will my dogs be enough?
– Holy shit what do I do for the next 16 hours?
– Will I be able to eat today?
– Can I go back to bed?
– This blog

As you can see, every one of those internal questions if begging an answer out of me. Asking me, “are you empty inside?” I can’t answer this question completely and truthfully. My best guess at this moment is sometimes I am, sometimes I’m not. There’s really no rhyme or reason behind it any longer. And it is getting very, very tough.

When I was on vacation, I mostly thought of my limitations. I’ve always wanted to live in Boston, but a shitty house with an even more shitty backyard costs $1MM or above. How does anyone afford that, especially coming from the midwest? Yes, start small, I get it. But I have two giant dogs that keep me sane. I’m not leaving them behind.

I guess the only thing that’s helped me this morning is my routine. Jumping on the computer, typing out random shit, and answering a few work calls. It’s a weird mix to go from writing about emptiness, depression, anxiety to all of a sudden answering a call to discuss a sales deal I have in the works. It really is. Two completely different worlds. One real, one fake.

I’ve thought about asking for a leave of absence from my job as I work through these difficulties, but during COVID-19 that’s just an impossible ask. I’ve thought about doing an MBA, but I have no fucking money. I don’t want more debt. Yes, it’s an investment in yourself. I understand. But did you actually read what I wrote above? I’m at the point where I don’t feel like investing is my best bet. It’s all about survival right now.

I know this post probably doesn’t help you. Hell, it probably isn’t helping me. But I needed to put it out there. I needed a couple sets of eyes to see this, hear this, and hopefully use this as some sort of way to tell themselves “I’m not empty inside.” Because, well, most likely you aren’t. You probably just feel that way, similar to me. How do we snap out of it? I’m open to any suggestions. Really. Any suggestion.

I wish you well. Try not to beat the shit out of yourself.

* emphasis on the feeling, not necessarily the possibile reality

Back to Base

~ Henry Butterfly ~ Leave a comment

As I sit here writing this, I don’t know quite what to say. Should I recap the trip? Should I tell you all how I felt throughout the trip? Does any of that matter now that I’m about to board the next flight to O’Hare? Do you guys really think I have nothing to say? Something will be typed out. Let’s just see if it can stay on path, but both you and I highly doubt that.

Of course that all matters (the trip, how I felt, does it matter, etc.). However, my mind is stuck on heading back home. And not all for good reasons. I do get to reunite with my dogs, B & L, but outside of that I am heading back to an empty home, and that always scares me. I’ll miss having my best friend in the next room, especially with what I’ve been going through recently.

I mean, you guys have seen it. I’m a goddamn rollercoaster. One day it’s “Man, I don’t know how I’m going to do this shit” to “Wow, life is great! You never know how great it is till it slaps you in the face.” I mean, I need some consistency there, don’t I? And today is the former. Today I feel… bad. And I can’t figure out why. I’m not exactly sad to be heading back home, but I still feel it. But I’ll get out of this slump. Mornings are always difficult.

Again, that’s the thing. As long as I keep writing this, well… really as long as I keep thinking about how difficult things can be for me, the more aware I am of how to get out of the shits. I thought getting away would help. It did, but only for a few hours a day. But hey, that’s better than nothing.

Go take that risk. Get away from what you’re comfortable from. It’s always there for you to come back to – that’s why it’s fucking comfortable. But for me, and I don’t know about you, remember that, it’s never great to be stagnant. This trip broke me out of a streak of stagnation.

Now? Now it’s back to the drawing board. Well, I have a shit ton of work I left behind so really it’s back to that, but AFTER. Well after, I’m going to continue to practice. Continue to read, write, meditate, eat healthy, and workout – all the shit you read about in those self help books. Again, that shit might not work for you. Find a routine (I know, it sounds like an ugly thing) that helps you win this battle against whatever you’re facing. You can’t just fucking sit there. I couldn’t. I had to get out. And I’m glad I did, even if it was just for 72 hours.

I wish you well. Try not to beat the shit out of yourself.

About Last Night

~ Henry Butterfly ~ Leave a comment

What a weird, strange day yesterday was. Who knew standing in a recreational marijuana shop line could bring so much spontaneity into my life?

My buddy & I almost didn’t stop at this shop. The line was long, real long. And to be honest, we didn’t really think we “fit in” with those that stood in line. We were right, but luckily we had an angel standing behind us in line. It was really quite… different.

All we did was talk to her. Just about where we’re from, what we’re doing, and we made sure we listened to what she was doing, where she was from, too. What happened next was something you just wouldn’t expect in 2020. She invited us to her family’s beach house in Cape Cod. We quickly canceled our tee time, got our bag of goodies, and headed an hour and a half to the beach.

From there, the real beauty happened. For hours on hours, we talked. About everything from our work lives to Shamanism (wasn’t familiar with it & honestly still don’t understand it, but it seems really cool). We stood out in freezing water and took the air in. We spoke about what’s worked for our meditation. We all listened to each other intently. It really was an amazing night.

Usually there’s a lot of doom & gloom on this blog, but this goes to show you that sometimes it isn’t all doom & gloom for you. Things can just happen. We made a friend for life just by standing in a pot line. You just never know what the fuck is going to happen: good or bad. This time it was good. Better than good. I’m still trying to recount everything from last night, but part of me doesn’t want to. Why?

The reason last night was so special had everything to do with living in the moment. Being present. Being aware. It’s so very important. Nothing good would’ve came from that trip if we weren’t present. And now? It’s time to be present in this moment.

I wrote this in a café on my phone, so forgive any errors.

Ah, I’ll insert a couple photos I took. Stayed off my phone for 98% of the time but couldn’t resist snapping a few photos.

I wish you well. Try not to beat the shit out of yourself.

Waking Up in an Unfamiliar Place

~ Henry Butterfly ~ Leave a comment

If you read my blog from yesterday morning, you would know I’m currently on vacation. I’m doing my best to call it a vacation, but this morning proved to me it’s also a challenge. And a big one at that.

I messed up RIGHT AWAY in this challenge. I texted my ex this morning once I woke up. I don’t know if I dreamed about something (never can remember my dreams) or something just took control over me, but I did it. And I regret it. She’s on an island right now – I’m in some random apartment in Boston. Big difference there, eh? Be more positive, I know.

OK, let’s get to the topic at hand. Sorry, had to let a little bit out of what I’m going through this morning, and I guess that ties into the subject matter of this morning: Waking up in a new place (with anxiety, depression, etc., but you all know where this is going, why do I keep explaining myself?).

Waking up in a new place is never easy for those that suffer from mental illness or lack essential mental awareness. I mean, shit, the yoga meditation I use to fall asleep took me THREE times last night. I usually knock out in five minutes (the meditation is 18 minutes). It was tough. I woke up at 6 AM and didn’t have the balls to get out of bed for another two hours. I knew this morning would be tough. I didn’t think it’d be this tough. I knew I’d have to pull out my computer and start typing so I can get through this shi. Why? Because I can’t be a depressed piece of shit all day long. That’s no vacation. That’s imprisoning myself.

So how do I snap out of it? Well, right here is a good start. Honestly taking my meds is another good start. So, I’m 2/2 so far. What else? I’m racking my brain here and finding nothing, so if you have any input, I’d much appreciate it.

Massachusetts allows recreational cannabis. I mean, that could be an option. If I go to a dispensary, we can count that as 3/3, right?

All jokes aside (that last question wasn’t a joke, who am I kidding?), I feel kinda fucked this morning. I’m sure I’ll snap out of it, whatever that means. I always do at some point in the day. And that’s what I look forward to, but you want to know the healthiest shit you can do when you’ve woken up distressed about God knows what? Soak in it. Embrace it. Take it in. Let the thoughts come and go. It fucking hurts, I know. I know it hurts. But you have to let those thoughts in or else they’ll come back ten times harder the next time.

So next time you find yourself waking up in an unfamiliar area, remember there are things you can do to help make it feel right. And it always starts with you.

Also, yes, I know this wasn’t my best work. You don’t have to critique me, I can handle that on my own.

I wish you well. Try not to beat the shit out of yourself.

Update: We ended up getting invited to a beach house in Cape Cod. Told ya, just keep living and shit works out.

Let Yourself Live

~ Henry Butterfly ~ Leave a comment

Right now I sit with a very, very heavy mask on my face. I think it’s a smidge too big for my face, so excuse me if I have a mistype or two. Can’t really see right now.

I sit next to, well six feet from, many people I’ve never met before. Today I’m off to Massachusetts to enjoy Boston, a city I’ve never been to, and spend time with my best friend. Is it a bit scary right now when I’m in such a weird time in my life? Hell yes. Did I almost (I definitely did) cry as I left my dogs with my parents? Hell yes. But what’s important is I’m taking a slight risk to get out of my bubble. To get away from my routine. That’s important.

Why is it important? Well, if you keep doing the same shit, you’re gonna keep living in that same shit. It’s important to switch it up sometimes, even if you’re in the middle of a pandemic. Yeah, the place I’m going may not offer everything it normally would, but my little home offers less, I’ll tell ya that.

Please remember, no matter what, even when you’re thinking life is absolute shit: Make sure you live. Make sure you take chances. Make sure you do stuff that scares you. Facing a fear is one of the most empowering actions people like us can take.

I promise by the end of whatever you decide to take a risk on, you won’t have a single regret. Except maybe one or two drunken nights where you may or may not have told a random person to fuck off. I mean, there’s slight regret there, but we’re not perfect. I know that. You know that.

Live your life, no matter what fear tells you to do. Take that chance. It’s fucking worth it.

Ope! We’re boarding. Time to go.

I wish you well. Try not to beat the shit out of yourself.

Update: Of course I’m the one chosen to “voluntarily” check my bag.

A Tip for Those Self-Defeating Types

~ Henry Butterfly ~ Leave a comment

It’s not like we like to feel bad about ourselves, talk bad about ourselves, and mope around all day (or do we?). But I learned not too long ago that unless we make one small change in how we talk about ourselves internally and, more importantly, how we talk about ourselves to our support system, it all falls apart. All of it.

I recently got out of a relationship. Many things factored into that, mostly my self-defeating and destructive other side. Also, I didn’t help myself when my good side was out, and all it took was one helpful tip from one of my best friends to shift that slightly. Oh, don’t think I got the girl back from this tip. It’s not that great of a tip, but still worth your time… I think.

It’s really quite simple. If you’re like me, you corner a friend or a relative that you trust and just GO OFF. It could be mass texts about how terrible you are, how you’ll always be alone, how no one can help you (it’s true, no one can… except yourself – you’ll probably get tired of me saying that). I mean it’s honestly quite amazing the terrible ways I can think to describe myself and how that other side manipulates me when it’s in control. I mean I say some scary fucking shit. It scares me, so I can only imagine what it does to my support system.

But my buddy had an idea. He actually gave me somewhat of an ultimatum, and I’ve thanked him for that. He made me make a decision. And what he asked wasn’t all that hard.

For me to continue to complain to him, bitch about this or that, and moan about how things could be exponentially better if I just had a different fucking mind, he needed me to provide a one positive thing about myself at the very end of my venting. That’s it. Just one.

An example (picture it as a text):
Me: I don’t know what the fuck to do, man, I’m losing a bit of myself every single day
Friend: something along the lines of “tell me more”
Me: I’m just an utter piece of shit. It’s honestly that simple. It sucks to think about, but maybe I’ll be like this forever. And if I’m like this forever, who the hell is gonna wanna stick around me?
Friend: listening
Me: I mean, I just fucking suck. I can’t even get through a single day without one meltdown. I can’t do ANYTHING. It’s like my mind is just fucking with me non-stop. I don’t know how much I can handle anymore.
Friend: OK, now tell me one positive thing about yourself. Just one.

That last line, that prompt to say one positive thing about myself, it sometimes made me laugh. But he told me if I didn’t start to say at least one positive thing about myself, he wasn’t going to be able to help/listen any longer. Man, I’m glad he told me to do that. Initially I wasn’t taking it that seriously and I’d plug in things like “I made a sandwich today” as my positive, but it still meant I was trying – or at least listened to what a valuable person in my life said to me. Sooner than later, I started to include it on a regular basis, and said more empowering things about myself that, in turn, would sometimes bust me out of the other side jail. I still sometimes slip up and forget to say that positive, but the thought always comes through, thanks to practice and a really, really good friend.

Again, I don’t know if this will work for you. I didn’t think it would work for me. But it kinda does. It’s definitely supplemental, along with most everything when it comes to treating/handling mental illness. And if you haven’t tried this already, try it. Even after reading this blog, just say one positive thing about yourself. It’s worth a shot, isn’t it? And wouldn’t it be nice if it just made any type of difference for you at all? I mean, we don’t have much more to lose here.

I wish you well. Try not to beat the shit out of yourself.

The Stigma with Mental Health Meds (don’t let it stop you)

~ Henry Butterfly ~ Leave a comment

Yesterday I had a wet net on my head. After that, a cotton swab rubbed on the left and right side of the inside of my mouth.

No, I wasn’t taken hostage (that would’ve been a massive plot twist in this blog). I had an EEG (An EEG tracks and records brain wave patterns) and a DNA cotton swab test. Why? Well, supposedly they help dwindle down what a psych thinks is best for you in terms of medication. It’s weird. The EEG was really, really weird. You wait to hear the “target tone” and you click a button once you do, but more often than not, they plug other noises in there – such as farts, burps, and babies crying. It really isn’t pleasant.

As for the cotton swab thing? Eh, no big deal. Neither were that big of a deal. But they are helping me figure out something that is a big deal.

I used to be against meds for a couple reasons:
1) I absolutely hated psychiatrists, they just seem like shitty people most of the time.
2) It never made sense how if my family has a history of pancreatic cancer then I should be prescribed Med A, or if my family didn’t, I should be prescribed Med B – you can explain it all you want to me, include scientific facts if you want, it still doesn’t make sense to me.

Then I happened to fall into a very, very dark place and I had nowhere to turn. I had to do what was right for me, what was right for the people around me, and what’s going to keep me going in the future (in a small way).

Meds aren’t all that bad. Actually, since I started taking my depression medication a couple months back, my sex drive actually kicked up. Also, I don’t really know what the fuck the med does, which I think is a good thing? I don’t feel it hovering over my brain, clouding up my thoughts, you know – all the bad shit people tell you meds do to you. Sometimes they don’t, especially if you find the right ones and you somehow find a good psychiatrist. I only had to go through five to find one decent one…

So what the fuck am I saying in this tangent? I’m saying never rule anything out. Yeah, it sucks to admit that you’re on depression medication, anxiety medication, all that, but it sucks even more to suffer heavily from depression and anxiety, doesn’t it? Fuckin’ suck it up. You aren’t bigger than the next person and neither am I. We all need help – maybe meds aren’t for you, but don’t think for a second that this depression will just go away all by itself. This BPD will just magically poof and leave you for good. That anxiety that makes that heart pump? It’s not going away unless you do something.

That’s what we all have to learn. It’s not the meds that help us (well, they do, but that’s not what I mean), it’s not the therapy that helps us (again, it does help us), and it’s not the psychiatrist that helps us (meh, I’ll stick to my hatred with psychiatrists, they just drive me nuts). What helps us is us. Not just you, but your collective group, that support system I’ve talked about, even if it’s just your cute lil’ dog.

My support system told me it was OK to be medicated. They assured me that I’m not fucking stupid and I won’t fucking lose myself if I do take meds. And guess what, they were right.

I wish you well. Try not to beat the shit out of yourself.

Waking up on the Good Side

~ Henry Butterfly ~ Leave a comment

We’ve all been here. The joy I have when I wake up not already hating myself is substantial. But here’s the thing: It doesn’t always last. Again, Mr. and Ms. Reader, I would love your feedback here, but I’ll share some things that I make sure I do when the good side is meeting me for coffee in the morning.

First things first, get the fuck out of bed. I make sure to get the hell out of my dark house (bad window placement), too, and get outside. I’m blessed with a beautiful backyard, a garden, a couple of dogs, so outside makes sense for me. For you, that might be different. Maybe a long shower, bath, or simply stretching and breathing is your way to maintain that good side. Whatever works, just make sure you identify it.

Some other things you must do to keep that good side around as long as possible; make sure you stick to your schedule, understand that things may not go the way you think they should that day, and most of all, be aware. Remember that you are the person, the only person, that can keep you on that good side. That’s powerful. You have that power.

Does the good side always stick around? Hell no. I mean, just thinking about writing this blog while in the shower, the other side made sure to let me know that I’d most likely forget what I wanted to write by the time I got to my computer. The motherfucker was kinda right (I think I had more influential shit to say, but honestly can’t remember), but still, I made it out here. I made it to the computer. I’m sharing my experience. So another thing that’s helping me right now? Sharing. Again, might not be for you, but it’s worth a shot.

Another essential for me is making sure I reach out to my friends and loved ones on my good days. It’s always a great reinforcement to see that your humor, your smile, and your wittiness is still with you – and there’s no one better to use that humor on than your friends and loved ones. Don’t let it go to waste. Never let this side of you go to waste. Always build off of it.

Also, don’t think it about it too much. I mean, I might be fucked because I’m writing this blog on it. Five minutes from now I might hate the world, but I really don’t think so. Why? Well, I said before… We have the power, not the other side.

I wish you well. Try not to beat the shit out of yourself.

Relationships Don’t Work (if we aren’t aware)

~ Henry Butterfly ~ 1 Comment

I’ve noticed in my depression, anxiety, the other side, that I am just not very good at relationships.

Don’t get me wrong. I am good… when I’m good. When the other side is in control? Nah, not good. I mean the shit that comes out of my mouth is unreal. I know I cuss a lot on this blog, but you should see that other side in real life. Actually, you shouldn’t.

OK, back to it. Being bad at relationships, right? It has me wondering, and I wouldn’t mind if you pitched in here, Mr. or Ms. Reader, should I involve myself with anyone else in whatever’s left of my life?

It’s a really bleak question to ask yourself when you’re on that other side, but it’s an interesting question when you’re not. You know you can be good, but sometimes you fail. Actually, it’s not just sometimes. It’s a lot of the time. Like waaaaay too much. How many people that you love have you pushed away? Luckily I can still count on one hand, but it’s getting close to that second hand.

So what can people like us do? We can’t deny ourselves the joy that love can bring, that companionship brings, just because of our stupid mental illness. That’s worsening your own self. That’s denying your good side a chance to show up a bit more often.

But is it fair for the other person? This is the one I struggle with. My mind, everything really, tells me no. But there’s this thought in the back of my mind, really deep back there, that says yes, it is fair. Why? Because there’s something called unconditional love, and there will be that person out there for you, that unconditionally loves you and puts up with your other side because they, again, unconditionally love you.

Also, be mindful. Be aware. Understand when you need to step away. Sticking around and trying to battle that other side while you’re with the person you care most about… don’t do that. Separate yourself. At least for me, that’s what’s helped in the past. It just hasn’t been quite enough. Maybe you’re better at talking it out than I am. Do what fits you best.

Another thing to always tell yourself is you will never know when you’ll find love. It’s stupid to think that you being active on a dating app or heading to the bars will bring you love. Nothing brings you love. That shit just shows up, and when it does, remember what I said. Be mindful. Be aware. Step away when needed. And as always, try your best to think of that good side you have.

I’m sure I’ll write more on this subject, but for now, that’s all I got.

I wish you well. Try not to beat the shit out of yourself.

Admission

~ Henry Butterfly ~ Leave a comment

Phew. Today was quite some day.

You ever have one of those things called an epiphany? That’s one of the few words I have to spellcheck, by the way. Those “Aha! I just experienced some sort of enlightenment” moments. Yeah, I had one. It’s something you’d assume to be positive, but sometimes that’s just not the way it goes.

Enlightenment comes from epiphanies, and sometimes enlightenment feels like the exact opposite – darkness. Today I maybe mentioned to a few people I believe I suffer from Borderline Personality Disorder, or as I’ll refer it to in this blog, BPD. BPD isn’t something I was really aware of, but after watching videos from this guy named Joe Tracini, it all felt too familiar. (Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to include the video at the bottom of the post.)

I’ve been battling depression and anxiety for 15 years. 15 fuckin’ years, similar to Joe. Yes, I have spells of … non-depression, but that’s not the point here. The point is it always comes back. You think you have it figured out, you’ve been through countless hours with your therapist, you’ve finally accepted the fact it might be in your best interest to see a phony psychiatrist. Yeah, you give in, at least that’s how it felt for me.

Breaking news: It’s not giving in. It’s asking for help. It’s something I wish my younger self would’ve pushed for more, and not just that, but knowledge surrounding mental illness. Isn’t it funny that all it took was one absolutely honest and terrific TWITTER video to open my eyes? I mean, I’ve had three accidental overdoses, my sibling passed, my mother suffered a major, life-altering accident. Not to toot my own horn, but that’s some bad shit – and that’s not even half of it. (This is what you do when you’re like me, you one-up people with the bad shit in your life. Yeah, it doesn’t make much sense to me either but I still do it.) But even still, I never looked inside, it was always about what happened in my past, my relationships, etc., until Joe posted a fucking video on Twitter.

I’ve lashed out on people because I was envious they felt so damn good and I didn’t. I’ve flipped off grandmas for driving slow on the interstate because honestly, sometimes the other side just wants to be super fucking mean. I used to break into my own mother’s safe to steal drugs, no weird explanation here, I just wanted drugs. What the fuck, right? (Yes, it’s OK to hate me for that. I hate me for that.)

Anyway, you’re probably wondering what I’m driving at here. Well, you’re kinda seeing it first-hand. There’s things moving around in my mind a million and one miles per hour almost every second of the day, leading me into tangents of nonsense. But that’s the thing – sometimes those tangents of nonsense don’t come from this side of me, and that’s where that whole “epiphany” thing slides into the equation.

Remember how I mentioned depression, anxiety, all that bullshit always comes back? Well, it’s because it’s always there for me. For some unknown reason; maybe trauma, maybe drug usage, or maybe just bad luck, I managed to mangle my brain so bad that now I think I have two sides of me (now you get the name of the site… I mean, it was pretty fucking obvious). That’s what BPD is. As Joe Tracini put in another Twitter video, and I’m somewhat paraphrasing here, “It’s like I have a terrorist inside my head that booked an Air BnB 15 years ago and won’t leave. Yeah, he’ll go into another room sometimes, but he’s always there.”

It’s true. It’s so very true. That other side, I refuse to give it a pronoun because fuck that thing, racks my brain with bullshit majority of the time. Emptiness, shame, self-destruction… all things the other side has mastered over the years. But it isn’t all doom and gloom. Sometimes my best problem solving comes from the other side. Sometimes my emotions are strengthened (not always a good thing), and sometimes I learn new things about myself… like that I might have BPD (the epiphany if you haven’t already understood that).

I was told to make this site because maybe it might help some of you who feel the way I feel. Even if you don’t feel the way I feel, maybe this will help you. I mean, shit, I’ll take all the help I can get, so maybe this will help me, too. I don’t promise daily content here, I promise honest content. It won’t all be … what’s the saying? Hold on, let me Google something. Yeah, it’s not always going to be sunshine and roses (I personally think roses and sunshine rolls better off the tongue). Actually, most likely it’ll be quite the opposite. But I hope my brutal honesty doesn’t drive you away. Sometimes we need to be brutal with ourselves, sometimes we need to beat ourselves up – it’s OK to do that, just make sure to take the time to recover.

It’s not OK to do that all the time, though. When that good side comes out, cherish that shit. Cherish it. Make the absolute most of it, and don’t let it slip away without making some progress against that other side. What have I been doing when my good side finally decides to show the fuck up? Well, I started meditating a little bit, it kinda helps. I read more often, that does help. And I write quite a bit now, which, as an English major, I should be doing anyway – so yes, that helps, too. Also, don’t judge me on my damn grammar or sentence structure. This is a fucking blog, not an editorial from the New York Times.

But those activities/exercises I mentioned might not work for you. Speaking of exercise, I use that as a tool to get rid of the other side. Hitting a heavy bag while the other side is controlling you… man, you can do some serious damage. But getting that anger out, that frustration out, is so very important. By any means necessary, beat that motherfucker out of you the best way you know how.

Sometimes it’s easiest just to think about your good side and appreciate how good that fucking person really is.

And if you can’t get the other side out of you, if you are really struggling, reach out to anyone. Anyone at all. They may not understand you. Actually, 99.5% of the time they won’t understand you. But if they listen, that’s better than nothing. My father listens to me constantly, has for 15 years, and still has no clue what the hell I’m going through. But what does he do best? He listens. He doesn’t try to tell me that I need to do this or I need to do that. He. Just. Listens. Find that person in your life – they are out there, even if your other side is telling you otherwise.

That reminds me. You all are going through this shit, too. At least some shit, maybe not this particular batch. If you aren’t taking time out of your day to help someone out, how do you think you’ll ever find someone to help you out when you need it most? It’s not a one-way street. People need people.

So yes, this is my admission to Borderline Personality Disorder. Have I been diagnosed yet? No. Do I want to ask my psychiatrist about this? Hell no. But I might. And if I do, it’ll be because of the people that help me push against the other side.

I wish you well. Try not to beat the shit out of yourself.

Joe’s video:

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