Tag: adolescent

Posted on

Self Acceptance – 500 Words a Day – Day 27

Confession, I have a poor body image. For most of my life I’ve hated one thing or another about my body, seemingly always wishing something was different. When I was a kid in junior high, I always thought I was too tall. I sprouted early and was 5’11” in 7th grade. At the time, all I wanted to do was blend in and not be noticed. I can probably blame some of that on my introvertedness, but it was still there. By the time I was in high school, I felt I was too skinny and that my arms were too thin. In some ways I was ok with that, but it did bother me. When I went to college I started drinking more and put on the freshman 15 and sophomore 30. At that point, I started to feel like I was over weight. I began to work out and restricted my food intake. I went from a fairly healthy 180 lbs to 165 lbs, sometimes working out for 3 hours a day. A quick note on the weight, I’m also just shy of 6’2″. And even as I’m writing this, I don’t think any of the weights matter, what really matters is how I felt about it. Throughout my life I’ve battled with things I don’t like about myself, mainly weight, but I was also self conscious about other things. Can you be self conscious about being self conscious? I think so lol. For a time I had a mentor in my life and he had me stand naked in front of the mirror and just look at myself. It was a weird experience. I noticed now much I tended to focus on the extra weight around my stomach, and how much I hated it. I focused so much on it that I never really noticed other things about myself, until that day. As I stood there in front of the mirror I noticed something that amazed me. My eyes are hazel. Or more distinctly, my eyes are both green and brown. Depending on the day and my surroundings one or the other is more obvious. I was in my mid-30’s and had never noticed that before. My drivers license even said brown. When I got it at 16 the woman asked my the color of my eyes and I told her brown. She started to say they were more of a… I cut her off and told her to put brown. Apparently I was enough of a dick that she didn’t argue and just put brown. So there I am, 30 something, standing naked in front of the mirror and I realize my eyes are hazel. That was a pretty amazing moment. Today, I really like my eye color. I’ve heard it can change as you get older, but I hope it doesn’t.

I’d like to say as I looked in the mirror that day that I accepted everything about myself that I previously hated, but that wouldn’t be true. I still work on accepting things. The current thing I’m working on is my hair. I’ve always hated it, in case you haven’t caught on to the theme. It seemed too curly, and would never do anything I wanted it to. Many women have told me they would love to have my hair, but I’m a guy, and I think it just looks bad when it’s longer than finger length. And that’s how long it’s been for close to 20 years. Until now. Right now my hair is the longest it’s been since I was in college. And I’m growing it longer. I hope it looks OK, but in the end it really doesn’t matter. The idea is to accept it and just go with the flow. I think the confidence to accept it, and rock it, will make all the difference in whether it looks good or not. At least that’s the theory.

Posted on

500 Words Day Four – The Dark

I don’t talk about my depression much, except to some few trusted people. I fear people will misunderstand, and I’m not sure they can understand how deep and dark my depression has been. Maybe they can’t, and that’s a good thing. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. I’ve been on this earth for 42 years and I’ve spent 15-20 of those years clinically depressed. When I was 15 I was diagnosed with bi-polar depression and hospitalized for 3 months. Something that I’ve only told a few people, it was actually my choice to be hospitalized. I did it because the only way I could see to feel better was to kill myself and I wasn’t ready to die. See, I’ve always been in love with life, I just couldn’t see how to live.

In the hospital, I was medicated and went through individual and group therapy. It helped. It started me on a path, but it was still a long journey. I was still depressed, but I think I hid it better. Or perhaps I just had a couple more tools to make life seem easier. I clung to my friends. I drank a lot and did a lot of drugs. In retrospect, I hid from my depression and ran towards what seemed like the quick easy fix of sex, drugs and alcohol.

But nothing ever really helped. I was still suicidal. I thought about killing myself. I thought about killing myself at least once a week, usually more often, until I reached my early 30’s. I never told anyone. I knew that under certain circumstances that you could be, at least temporarily, committed to a psych ward against your will if it was determined that you were suicidal enough. I had decided that if I were to kill myself, that it would be on my terms. No one was going to take away my choice to end my own life. So I kept quiet. I didn’t tell my friends, the people I dated, the woman I eventually married, nor any of the therapists that I saw over the years. It was mine alone to deal with.

And I did deal with it. I quit drugs and drinking, which in retrospect probably made it worse for a while. When it did get better it was because of a shit ton of intensive self work. I became more real to myself, I began to accept myself for who I was. I think that was a big part of my depression, I didn’t like who I was very much and always thought I “should” be different, more, better. I’ll admit, it didn’t help that I married someone who reinforced those beliefs on a daily basis.

So after a ton of self work, I dove more deeply into meditation and yoga. I began to feel even better about myself, I learned more on how to truly accept yourself for who you are, and I began to love myself.

Don’t get me wrong, the depression is still there, but it’s much better. I’ve learned how to manage it, I notice what triggers it and, more importantly, I know how to get out of it. I no longer run from my depression. Sometimes people ask how I’m doing and I’ll tell them I’m feeling a little blue. Inevitable they ask, “Why?” When I tell them there’s no real reason, they don’t seem to believe it, but it’s true. It’s also true I know it will pass, it’s just an emotion. Some days it will just pass, and some days it means it’s time to care for myself. Maybe see some friends, maybe see no one for a while. It could mean I need to get outside and play, or head inside for a yoga class. What it amounts to is that I need to do things that are good for my soul, that’s what ultimately brings me out of my depression. And that’s great, because that’s what life is really about.

Posted on

Dream Come True

I started a new job this week…as a therapist. It all seems so crazy to me, but in a good way. I’ve told a few people the complete story of how I got to this point, but here’s some of it.

I am currently 42 years old and my journey to becoming a therapist started back when I was 15 and a Sophomore in high school. At that time I was hospitalized for major depression and spent three months in a locked ward. Thinking back, I really appreciate the support I received from my parents. Even though I didn’t realize it at the time, they really were there for me. They did their best to deal with a child they loved, who was highly suicidal. As a parent myself, I can’t even imagine what they must have gone through, what they thought, what they felt. It must have been scary as hell.

Along with my parents support, I was seeing a counselor. His name was Mike and I saw him from the time I was 15 until I was 18 or so. He accepted me for who I was, he challenged my ideas/beliefs without trying to “change” me. He is one of the major reasons why I am alive today. And because of his example, of how he influenced my life, I decided at the age of 16 that I also wanted to become a counselor. To be able to give back a little, follow in his footsteps and maybe, just maybe, help some other kids who are going through a tough time in life.

Flash forward 27 years. It’s been a long journey, but I’m here, I’m standing in my office (I have an office!). It’s almost shocking. And it seems so fragile. Like it’s gong to be taken away at any minute. I realize that I’ve been waiting for the past year or so for things to fall through. For the world to go, “Haha, that’s gonna to happen.” It started with graduating with my Masters degree. I really didn’t think I’d make it through that final year. Working full-time, school part-time, doing my practicum (another 10-15 hours per week), trying to write my Senior Paper (thesis), going through a divorce, being separated from my son, trying to get another relationship going (which was a both a source of great support and stress). It all seemed too much. But I went ahead anyway and held my breath until I was holding my diploma in my hand. I did it!

Then came the job search. Eight months of searching and only one call back. That was rough. But I firmly believe that things happen when they are supposed to, how they are supposed to. Not that we don’t have to do the work, but I simply believe that the world conspires to work for us, if we let it. I’ve just seen too many times how things end up working out, if not how we wanted them to, then the best way they could have. This belief gives me peace of mind when I might otherwise freak out. In any number of ways.

So, as I stand in my office I realize that I was self-sabatoging a little over the past couple weeks. I emailed several forms back to HR that ended up being blank (I swear they weren’t when I sent them…stupid ‘save’ button). I also somehow missed that I needed to get a background check before I started. Minor detail…

Fortunately, my employer has been great with these things. But it did get me thinking. I hear people talk about how it’s too late to pursue their dream. I don’t believe that. I think it’s exactly the right time, when you decide to do it. Maybe it won’t look precisely like you imagined it, but when you’re ready, it will unfold how it’s supposed to. And if you’re not ready, that’s ok, too. You’re right where you’re supposed to be, even if it’s an uncomfortable place. My guess is that there’s probably a lesson you need to learn before you move on. And just a side note, even if that lesson involves another person in some way, it’s not about them. At all. It’s all about what’s going on inside of you.

So now what do I do about my little self-sabatoge??? Well, at least now I’m aware of it, that’s always the first step. For a while I’ll need to be more aware of what I’m doing to make sure I have all the i’s dotted and t’s crossed. And remember not to be complacent in what I do. For me, that’s when I get lazy. And, boy, can I get lazy.

I guess my question for you is, “Do you have a dream and are you following it?” If not, that’s ok, but are you at least doing something that you love? It doesn’t matter what it is, work, family, yoga, baking, being a parent, a lover, an artist, musician, athlete, or even taking time to knit or read a good book. Just pick something you love and do it. Whether or not you’re doing something you love (but especially if you’re not), remember to be kind to yourself. I don’t think many people have ever beat themselves into doing something. Instead, I believe these things come from loving ourselves. Learn to be kind to yourself, let yourself make mistakes, take care of yourself, be a little selfish (or self-ful, as the case may be). And when you’ve learned to love yourself (and do what you love), go share that love with others.