Mental Health

Shiver

"Empty" © Josh James, 2011. CC BY 2.0.
Empty” © Josh James, 2011. CC BY 2.0.
It can be hard to get up again. Tough to get going. All worn down, but still rough around the edges. I can never tell if I can blame the cold, the long weekend, hormones, medication, caffeine consumption, or 5K races. Never tell if there is any sense in blaming.

Two hours to get two feet on the floor. Another hour before I even start to think about eating. Trying to decide how I can get out of the commitments I’ve made today. Continue reading →

Addiction

Emerge

"City behind a barbed wire" © Michal Macura, 2012. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.
City behind a barbed wire” © Michal Macura, 2012. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.
“I don’t understand where this came from and I just…I just hate it. I never used to be like this.”

“Yes you did. You just masked it.”

I constructed an idea of who I am out of hundreds of nights spent smoking cigarettes and drinking bourbon. Trimmed it with drug abuse. Dusted it with a series of destructive relationships. The things I did defined me. They let me ignore the person underneath. I was a series of actions. Choices without a skeleton to hold them. Fragility. Vulnerability. Insecurity, frustration, and anger. There was no place for them between empty bottles and bloody noses. I could pretend I was the person the substances made me. In that there was safety. Continue reading →

Relationships

Hunger

"Organic Onions" © Susy Morris, 2009. CC BY-NC 2.0.
Organic Onions” © Susy Morris, 2009. CC BY-NC 2.0.
I spent the morning handing out produce at a food bank downtown. Wrapped up in scarves and gloves we curved up our mouths at hundreds, making eye contact and conversation. “Just be warm and welcoming,” our volunteer coordinator told us. What that really means is, “Just acknowledge their humanity.”

Hungry. Not just their bellies. They want someone to see them. Someone to let them know that they’re noticed. They matter. They’re still worthy human beings.

Never in my life have I wondered where my next meal would come from. There were weeks when every meal was Top Ramen and cigarettes, but the meals always existed. I always had the luxury of being more concerned with my monthly booze budget. I made the decision to focus on getting high or drunk over getting fed, but always got fed anyway. I’m thankful for that. But I know the other kind of hunger. The kind Bruce Springsteen sings about. The one that volunteers and donation centers can’t combat. Continue reading →