Saturday, August 31, 2019

Shaking Like a Human Being

Here's three unwelcome words:  Summer is over.  Sorry.

Summer has been very good and very bad to me over the years, like a lot of people.  I know I'm not unique in that way.  But my mental illness issues always dictate to me what kind of a season it's going to be.  Last year was quite nice, even the year before.  I exercised a lot, didn't really go anywhere trip-wise, but I was with my wife pretty much 100% of the time.  Whether or not she's with me doesn't necessarily determine if things will go smoothly, but when she's there, the chances of the good outweighing the bad always skyrocket.  I'm enormously blessed to have her in my life.  I've said it many times:  if not for her, I wouldn't be around today.

I have a friend named Tim who I've often proclaimed as a brother, and that's permanent.  He's a no-shit, good willed man of faith who's always willing to help someone in need.  When he expressed interest in seeing one of our mutually favorite bands, King's X, in Portland, Maine, I was all in, on the condition that Janice was with me.  That wasn't even in question for Tim, as he already knew.  His soon-to-be wife Marley was in on the trip too.  We had a lot of fun over the almost three day run.  Janice got sick to her stomach one day, we suspect because of carb overload - it's happened before - but she recovered quickly, thank God.  On the very positive end, the King's X show was incredible.  We were front row center in the club called The Aura, where apparently a lot of pretty good acts go, and we surprisingly got to meet the band after the concert was over.  I had a short discussion with Dug Pinnick, the bass player and lead singer, about how much many of his lyrics mean to me, particularly those about his battle with depression.  I told him how much King's X music helps me and has gotten me through some pretty hard times.  He was genuinely touched and there was a distinct connection we'd made there that Janice was witness to, having been at my side through it.  It was a lifetime moment for me.  I thanked Jerry the drummer and Ty the guitarist profusely for all they do and have done through the years.  We got pictures taken and autographs, the whole nine yards.  I thought of my friend Steve a lot through this whole thing, because back in the late 80's when I was a store clerk for Green Gables, Steve was the one who loaned me "Gretchen Goes to Nebraska", King's X's second release.  I didn't really 'get it' upon first listen, or second.  Or tenth, even.  But I kept playing it, and something clicked.  King's X's music is so rich with detail and rife with influences like Rush, the Beatles, Metallica and Black Sabbath, even KISS (King's X actually played on the KISS Kruise a couple of years ago), that I grabbed onto the sound and sought out the other two albums of the time, "Out of the Silent Planet" and "Faith Hope Love".  "FHL" actually made me rediscover my faith in God and Christianity, which has stayed with me since.  Anyway, with Steve being a hardcore King's X fan, we had a lot of discussions about their music through the years.  We even attended a show, with Janice, for the "Dogman" tour in Toronto at a club called Gasworks back in '91.  That too was amazing.  Steve pretty much arranged that trip and acccomodations, forming unforgettable memories I'll cherish forever.  We also all saw the KISS "Revenge" tour around the same early 90's era.  We amusingly made it onto MuchMusic TV as we waited outside the studios for KISS to make an appearance.  When host Erica Ehm asked fans what their favorite KISS ballad was, Steve proudly answered, "God of Thunder."  Classic Steve! 

So, this summer was going along pretty good.  Janice and me have been inseparable, except for when we have to work.  She keeps me grounded.  On the Portland trip, we were unaware that we were going to be gone for two nights, so I missed a couple of rounds of my meds, and so did Janice.  I wound up with elevated anxiety that I was able to manage with her help, and of course, I reciprocated in taking care of her as she dealt with the pain from her lack of medication, which can become intolerable if she goes without for too long.  It also probably contributed to her being sick.  All in all, it was manageable, and a great time was had by all of us.  But... I have this 'voice' in my head that tells me afterward how much of an ass I acted like, that I should have behaved better, that I shouldn't have said or did certain things... such is the life of a person with chronic anxiety.  I always feel guilty about something.

We've been going to the gym pretty regularly since we've joined Fit4Less several months ago, after we'd left the Y.  I'll get into why we left in the near future, because we departed under dubious circumstances that we're still upset over.  But Fit4Less turned out to be a good change.  Exercise has many benefits for everyone, but one in particular for me is to clear the cobwebs and just feel better.  I don't think I'm super fit or anything, but I'm probably in the best shape I've ever been in, providing I don't get derailed from going.  Still, at least 75% of the reason I do go is Janice.  Exercise is absolutely crucial to her mobility, where her multiple illnesses ranging from chronic arthritis to fibromyalgia threaten to freeze up her body unless she keeps moving.  The two of us going is a whole yin-yang thing.  We help each other by training.

But one thing that does derail us from going, typically in the winter months, is work.  The retail Christmas season can be torturous.  My job is very physical as it is when it's calm, but when things get busy, it can get increasingly stressful.  I used to cherish the post-Christmas season, because that's when things typically level off, but this year it just didn't.  The best way I can describe my job as a receiver where I work is warehouse work.  There's lots of lifting, carrying, and moving things around, and I put a lot of miles in running around the place, chasing the doorbell for deliveries while I'm doing something else.  I typically work through my breaks and lunches, because I like to get things done.  If I'm going to literally put my name on my work, I want it to be the best it can be.  And I get upset if it's otherwise.  I want to be an asset to my employer, and I'm passionate about it. 

People go on vacation during the summer, of course.  That's just logical.  But when someone goes out where I work, that person isn't replaced, and it puts a strain on the rest of us.  Business didn't drop off very much at all after last Christmas.  At times, it even got more hectic.  The busier it gets, of course, the more stress there can be, especially when manpower decreases.  Thankfully, I had a week off in July myself with Janice.  It was a much needed breather for the both of us.  She also suffers from a lack of manpower where she works at a post office kiosk, of which she's the manager of.  But her higher ups hesitate to give her more workers.  Thus, for much of the year, it's been just her and our daughter Alexandra working there.  It's quite ridiculous, if I'm being starkly honest.  She's much smarter and stronger than I am, though, so she vents with me and it seems to help. 

News struck us a month ago that our dear friend Steve passed away suddenly in his home after a sudden illness in Halifax.  I felt like it was a horrible dream that I desperately wanted to wake up from.  The last time we saw Steve was when KISS came to the Maritimes, visiting Saint John and Halifax, and we went to both shows.  Steve hitched a ride with us for the second show, in Halifax, and we got what I now cherish as time that I wouldn't ever trade for anything.  He welcomed us in his home before the show, we had some deep conversations ... par for the course with Steve ... and Alexandra got to know him more and developed a sweet bond with him.  He gave me a copy of his album "Fresh Footprints", an instrumental disc dotted with his trademark humor and deft musicianship throughout.  In fact, it was my favorite record I'd listened to that year, I loved it that much.  I would have taken a copy of it to give to King's X when we went, but I selfishly didn't want to part with my own!  I told him how much I admired it and his talent, and he was profuse in his appreciation for my fandom.  I stand by it today, "Fresh Footprints" is a professional, bonafide classic that I think everyone should give a chance.  I wish that it got more recognition than it did.

When I went to Halifax with Alexandra (Janice had to work, hence the manpower issues) for Steve's memorial, as I drove into town, I distinctly felt his presence.  I know how corny that sounds, but it was a feeling unlike any other.  I so miss the guy, and I know on some other plane of existence, he knows that.  Along with the many others that were at his memorial.  I saw a lot of familiar faces there, and many friends, all of us more than heartbroken at the fact of the reason we were present.  Alexandra was heartbroken.  Steve was always very kind to her, and always treated her like an equal adult, even in her childhood years.  That's why she respected him so much.  She always was entertained by our conversations because they were so deep!  One particularly about the Mandela Effect, a deja vu type of theory that muses on whether or not people actually died when it was publicly announced that they were.  I witnessed an instance of it myself once, when Tom Wilkonson's death was announced on TV while we were in Welland, Ontario visiting my brother Pete.  It was right there on TV, but months later, he showed up on TV promoting a new movie of his.  Janice may not have been at Steve's memorial, but she certainly was in spirit.  Her and Steve always had that humorous greeting... he'd say "hey man!" and she'd answer with "hey woman!" which he always responded to with his distinct laughter.  When the memorial was over, there was a reception that we didn't stay for, as I didn't know how I'd react because of my elevated anxiety.  That was probably selfish on my part.  But I also feel like I don't really belong in that group of friends anymore.  That's on me, not them.  But I digress, as I don't want that topic to be about me at all.

But needless to say, Steve's passing weighed heavy on my heart ever since.  I think about the guy a lot, and I'm thankful for having known him.  His friendship and brotherhood were indeed a gift that I'll never overlook. 

We are both now just starting our second week of vacation as I write this.  And it couldn't be more timely.  This past week has been horrendous to my body and mind.  I've worked nine to ten hour days all week, no breaks or lunches, and it still wasn't enough to get done what I wanted, although I'm admittedly picky when it comes to my work.  But these long days ate into my downtime, and the fact that I work two of those days starting at 5am cuts into my sleep.  We were only able to go to the gym together one day this week.  A stressful work year only got worse with all these factors pitching in to take painful cracks to my endurance.

Last night was the first night of vacation after I'd finished up a 9 1/2 hour shift at work on four hours sleep.  I expressed to Janice how hard a time I had with it all, but perhaps I was a bit lax in describing it.  She's actually seen me work, but she doesn't really know the scope of what I do.  I know no one at my work recognizes it.  It's the most thankless job I've ever had, but I work at the level I do as a matter of pride. I left the building yesterday as a man on the verge of melting down under the stress. 

My brother Roy is celebrating his 70th birthday this weekend, and the party was yesterday, which I most definitely was in no condition to attend, very regrettably so.  We said we'd go today for a visit at least.  He's got a cottage with my other brother Greg at Caissie Cape, a community I'm familiar with because of Steve's family's history there.  He used to look after his family's A-frame cottage in the summer, and host his friends for parties there a lot.  My old YQM band actually recorded our demo at his cottage.  That community will certainly have a different feel now, sadly.  But at least I have family there.  And I just know Steve's spirit will be wandering around with us when we visit.  I only wish that the Mandela Effect would prove itself in bringing dear Steve back.

But we will go under the specter of what transpired last night.  I was eventually overcome by stress and anxiety to the point that I couldn't bottle it up anymore.  I shook uncontrollably... paced and ran around the house ... SCREAMING at the top of my lungs ... quite literally beating my head against the wall ... laid on the floor nearly naked quivering trying to get my bearings back.  And Janice witnessed all of it.  It obviously upset her terribly, as she cried and pleaded to help as she watched it all unfold.  The more questions she asked, the more anxious I got, which is not her fault whatsoever, of course!  But a man with my condition faced with making even the simplest of decisions can be very overwhelming, in this case, nearly catastrophically.  Janice gave me some cannabis oil, which after some time, calmed me down to the point where I was coherent and not shaking anymore, and ultimately calm.  She may have even saved my life with it.  Again.  She never left my side even through all this.  I love her.

I woke up today sore and stiff all over from last nights events.  I'm now faced with visiting family which I won't be able to see again for months if I don't go, so I must.  I shouldn't be anxious about it, there's no reason to be.  But I am. 

I need to also point out that I still haven't heard from my psychiatrist or doctors since my last visit months ago.  I now hesitate to go, because I truly don't feel they believe me when I tell them what goes on.  Hell, the government doesn't believe me either, because they no longer recognize my disability!  My only real hope is Janice.  She talks to my doctors for me and stresses to them that what I'm dealing with is indeed real and indeed serious.  Apparently, that's what it takes.  What I also worry about, is others who deal with the same kind of issues that don't have anyone to vouch for them.  Where do they go to for help??  We need the medical community to take depression and anxiety seriously, once and for all.  And government needs to smarten up about the fact that it needs desperate attention.  I'm skeptical about that ever happening, though.

But to anyone who may be reading this, I need to say...... if you are suffering, if you have anxiety that gets the better of you at times, if you're feeling depressed, you absolutely must get help.  You must!!  And it's best that you have someone to advocate for you, the way my wife does.  I do get taken far more seriously when she goes to bat for me.  She is my guardian angel.  Find yours.  It may be your wife, husband, mother, brother, sister, friend, or work colleague.  But find someone who takes you seriously, especially if your medical professionals won't.

God bless you, and thank you for reading.   



1 comment:

  1. Thank you for sharing. It takes a certain kind of bravery to be vulnerable and let all of us in. I feel for you, so much. As you know, I struggle with depression and anxiety and a whole host of other things. Psychotherapy, physical therapy, medication, and meditation are just some of the things that I have to do to even remotely function. I've thought of trying cannabis oil; maybe I should go for it. Anyway, you're loved and I'm glad to call you my friend. And I'm super glad you're here.

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