Living Proof

Through years of being in and out of therapy and numerous psychologists, psychiatrists, LCWs, PhDs, MDs, XYZs - I have discovered something fascinating: the internet. It's no secret that I suffer from anxiety and panic disorder, and along with it comes that brutal wave of depression. But depression is not my root problem. Anxiety is my enemy. I've had it ever since I was 16 years old. I have PTSD . Plenty of doctors have tried throwing antidepressants to get rid of my…anxiety. Why are you giving me an anti DEPRESSANT for my anxiety? They said that anxiety and depression go hand-in-hand. The only thing these antidepressants did for me was give me more anxiety by creating that little 'boost' when you're are in a funk. I have coffee for that. There are too many unqualified "doctors" bringing in suffering patients for only 15 minutes, giving them a diagnosis and a script to boot. That's not enough. Big pharma gives these doctors kickbacks and usually, ...

( EDIT : This post was written early this morning. I was going to delete this, but instead I had placed it into a draft folder. I know it would have stayed in that draft folder forever.  Coincidentally, as I was working on something else, I was also listening to Joel Osteen's sermon to get my morning started. It was called, "The Seventh Year". It was like a confirmation to post this article. I was hesitant to publish this only due to the sensitive content in it - perhaps more of the raw honesty that I had poured into it. I let too many things hold me back. So here is part of Joel Osteen's sermon right after I had written this post. I'm just amazed. According to Deuteronomy 15 and the law of God given to Moses, Hebrew slaves were released on the seventh year. Your Seventh Year  When we’ve struggled in an area for a long time, it’s easy to think, “This is the way it’s always going to be.” The “seventh year” is when you break free from limitations that have hel...

Not a good look... The older I get, the more I'm finding out that people of my generation who are gay or lesbian are living in some time warp. While it's great to still feel young and to never grow up (because I never will), there comes a point where it's time to step out of the nightclub and well, get a life. I'm writing about my opinion on this simply because someone judged the way I lived. I was told that I'm "too domesticated" and "too content" in my life by the way I live. Why yes I am, and I love it. The reason why I trekked off to nightclubs at least twice a week was because I was trying to seek a life -- well maybe just a date at first -- and settle down. Isn't that the point?  I can't see staying out till 5am getting trashed more than twice a week appealing. And don't get me wrong, my wife and I love to go out and mingle, but we're so over the hangovers and drama that comes with staying out way too late. This person e...

My blog has been put on the shelf for a bit because I was biting my tongue, hoping to muster up something different other than what I really wanted to speak about, but ‘me being me’---that’s not an option sometimes. When I cover up a true post from the heart, I seem to ramble on about this that and the other thing. Just a bunch of nothingness on a blank page, perhaps a facade of what’s truly brewing. I believe blogs are personal and whether or not you want to keep it semi-vague or right to the point, is totally up to you. I’m always puzzled by certain friends who make everything so damn complicated. Every single word out of their mouths are either a hidden agenda, a motive or an insult disguised so well, that it could be taken in another light, so to speak. One of my friends had dropped by for dinner and drinks. We toss a few jokes around here and there, but we have already discussed how we would never venture over to the borderline of personal insults or attacks---just light playin...

There’s no doubt that life gets boring. There are so many things people do to entertain themselves, whether in a constructive or a destructive way. It depends on the personality type. Your life could be filled with work-related stuff, kids, school, errands, etc., but when you come home to rest, sometimes it feels like, “Is this it?”   Perhaps you see your friends traveling to far off places, vacationing with their loved ones perhaps twice a year and think: when do I get my break? Maybe you have absolutely no time to do anything but cater to other people. Regardless: life can seem redundant. We all get into ruts and try to put on a “happy face” and say “yes I am very happy with my life”.  And that may be so - in the bigger scope of things, but truly: are you happy? There are adrenaline junkies who get high off of the mere thought of doing something a bit risque and end up being miserable once their fifteen minutes of their adventure has finally fizzled out. It’s lacking “constant ...

It’s 4am and I have insomnia. I went to sleep at midnight but woke up at 4am bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I believe it was because I fell off the wagon last night. I indulged in 2 beers, Michelobe Ultra Light or whatever. In other words: the weakest beer in the world. I thought I was safe. I passed my 90 days and decided, hey I’m going to have a couple of beers with dinner. I thought doing it “light” would help, especially since my tolerance was at an all time low. The verdict: I HATE DRINKING! Every sip was uneventful and the buzz was more like a zombie-like ‘bout to hit coma stage. It got me tired and nothing else. But, I did find out one thing: I’m allergic to alcohol. This is what I believe, anyway. Anytime I have more than one drink, I can never sleep a full night. And I’ve been sober for over 90 days now and each night slept like a baby. I can definitely say without a doubt that I do not enjoy the effects of alcohol any longer. I’m actually glad I fell off t...

It was just a double espresso latte, not a four-course meal I ordered. The kid still took forever and a day to get it for me. He kept looking over at his co-worker with this question mark expression and his hands midway in the air as though he was saying, “I dunno what’s wrong with this thing.” I knew I’d be late for my AA meeting. I reached over the counter where I could see him to let him know that I’d be using the restroom while he’s still picking the beans off the goddamn tree. I came back and the girl (his co-worker) was serving her 5th customer as my boy was still brewing my java. He then came over with a bigger size than I ordered and charged me five and some change. I headed out the door and zoomed down the street to my dismal little stone church behind the graveyard for my meeting. Everything seems to be ass backwards over there. The doors push out and not in and the stairs are uneven with 3 steps here and 2 steps there. People usually fall right into sobriety -the hard way- t...

The contractors that our homeowner’s association hired are now replacing a roof on top of a nearby building. By law, you’re allowed to start working at 7am, as far as high noise decibel levels go. I understand while you’re hitting a nail into a surface that you may get about 5-10 whacks in at a time, but these fellas are hitting the suckers at 50 whacks per nail. It’s almost comparable to having ten pileated woodpeckers right outside of your window. Good morning. Can you imagine if this was happening while having a hangover? Which is one of my favorite reasons about quitting booze. I may be a little high strung off the java brew, but I tell ya, I haven’t felt this great in so long for such a long span of consecutive days. Last night after coming home from dinner, I went to bed at 9pm and woke up at 7am (to the wood pecking construction crew of course), without waking up once. It’s a miracle. There had been countless mornings a couple of years back, where I’d wake up to numerous amounts...

It started off as a method of process of elimination. I wanted to know what caused my sudden weight gain and also, what always kept me at a higher weight than most. I started drinking beer at the age of twelve. Before that age, I was a little skinny tomboy. I ate like all the other kids and ran amuck around the neighborhood. Weight was never an issue for me. Once, while drinking a huge can of Fosters with my old friend Geri, my mother came out on the deck and screamed at me. She said, “If you keep drinking beer you’re gonna get a potbelly!” Geri and I were hysterical. She brought it up the other day and we were laughing. Soon enough, the belly came. Some people call theirs a six pack---I call mine a keg. As I went through my teen years and early twenties, I knew I had gained some weight, but not enough where it would leave me depressed holding onto diet after diet. It wasn’t a concern. After I hit my thirties, all hell broke loose, as well as my buttons. I worked out, got a trainer, d...

Fumbling for my car keys, I reached down into my bag and found them tangled up into the red flashlight that I had previously added onto my new collection of nonsense key chain mania. I didn’t need the flashlight, besides it was too heavy anyway. It was 6:45pm and pitch dark outside. The streetlights are a blessing around here. I had to make the 7 o’clock meeting. This was my first AA meeting I was ever attending. I hurried out to my car and zoomed off to the Catholic Church where they were holding the meeting. I knew where the church was, but when I pulled in, there were five different buildings on the property itself. I pulled up to where it was lit up the most. I looked around and was relieved to see other people were pulling in too. I waited for a couple of minutes. I then realized that the people who were coming out of their cars had children with them. It was more of a school-type of church with classrooms lit up on the right hand side of the building. I got out of the car and we...

This morning is gorgeous! And by that, I mean it’s about 65 degrees here, cloudy, dismal----the perfect weather for me. I almost feel a tinge of tornadic possibilities. Anytime cold air meets the warm, it’s bound to kick up a few twisters now and then. I woke up to the sounds of rain falling on my windowpane. I woke up sober. It was beautiful. No headaches, no queasy stomach or the need to make one of my hangover concoctions. I made some delicious coffee and on my second cup. I never used to drink a second cup, but again, my addictive behavior tells me: one more cup! Hey, it’s better than ‘one more beer’. The wonderful and unfamiliar thing that has happened is, I had a hard time sleeping last night and got probably 5 hours in, however I feel like I have slept for 8 hours. When I was drinking, I was lucky I even got 4 hours in per night. Anytime I drank vodka, I’d fall asleep and then wake up two hours later with my heart racing, leaving me awake the entire night. My sleep was always in...