Dismantling the Program - Part I

I had a great counselor this last treatment. He was the new clinical director of the treatment facility in which I was a patient, and he started just a few days after I did. In his very first group, one of the things he spoke about was psychiatric diagnoses. He talked about the DSM, the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, which is edited and updated every so often by the American Psychiatric Association. My counselor said something that really struck me - that the only reason for having psychiatric diagnoses is for billing the insurance company* - that the maladaptive behaviors sometimes exhibited by those of us living with mental health disorders are learned behaviors and coping mechanisms. His point was that we can take apart the diagnosis, and work on individual symptoms. What he said really struck me, and I had to ponder it the rest of the day and into the night. 

I'm writing about this because I took his words to heart, and began to look at my mental health disorder, my diagnosis, in a different light. Is it possible that I hadn't made very much headway in treating my mental health disorder because I was trying to treat the whole disorder, rather than the symptoms?

As I write this, I have experienced approximately four months of what I call remission from depression. I'm not saying it's gone, but it's been sleeping fairly heavily! In these past four months I've stopped wanting to die, I've stopped experiencing suicidal ideation, and my hope, self-esteem, and motivation have increased dramatically. I will note that I am still taking the same medication prescribed to treat depression that I was taking before I entered treatment. I don't want to say the depression is gone - that would be denial that I still have issues to deal with - but I can say that I do not remember feeling like I've felt  with such consistency ever. So something's going on!

Let's take a quick look at my history with major depressive disorder. As a youngster, I often thought of death, and as an adolescent, and off and on through my adult life, I often felt suicidal - I wanted to die. Growing up, I did not recognize these feelings as symptoms of anything - I thought they were me. I identified myself so closely with depression and its symptoms that what I was experiencing was virtually untreatable, until about 5 years ago. Even after receiving promising treatment for depression, I was unable to escape its grasp on me - the program was running, and I couldn't do much about it.

Now let's take a look at something I've discussed in several posts over the years: automatic thinking. For our survival, humans are wired to classify things in our environment as safe or dangerous. We're set up that way so that the 2nd time (if there is a 2nd time) we see a tiger while walking in the woods, we don't have to think about whether to fight, run, or be very, very still - the response comes automatically. This is a great setup for basic survival; however, because of the world we now live in, automatic thinking can give false positives. For instance, a person who has been to war and survived living for a time in a very dangerous environment may come back from the war and be unable to enjoy life again - say, going to the fireworks on the 4th of July - because the normal events of life can bring them right back to when they lived in grave danger, even though they are in a safe place right now. Their brain is literally stuck where events which are similar, but not the same, as they experienced during war create the same anxiety and aversion as they did during the war. This particular set of symptoms is called Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. What makes this a mental health disorder is that not everybody who experiences the same trauma (war, in this example) will experience the symptoms of PTSD later on - part of what makes mental health disorders disorders is that the symptoms are behavior or thoughts outside the 'norm' - if everybody experienced the same thoughts and behaviors from the same stimuli, it wouldn't be a disorder; it would be life.

I experienced some things in my childhood that I wanted to avoid experiencing again. Now, some of these things I don't remember - I do not remember most of my preteen years - but I have the symptomology - the maladaptive behaviors - to have a pretty good idea that they happened. But that's not the point - the point is that my reaction was to want to avoid or escape whatever was going on, and I began to carry that reaction - escape or avoid - into just about every situation that made me feel uncomfortable. That's what makes it a mental health disorder, because not everybody who experienced stuff in their childhood developed maladaptive behaviors as a reaction. My coping mechanisms were basically dreaming of a permanent escape and, later on, drinking and using drugs as a means to avoid and escape. I also learned a lot of non-substance using ways to avoid and escape too!

Ok, what about the alcoholic part? And what about chemical imbalances that we hear so much about? I do believe in the genetics of alcoholism and addiction, and I believe I would have been an alcoholic/addict no matter what. As far as having a chemical imbalance, I do believe that I inadvertently trained my brain to be depressed. Again, if I begin to believe at an early age that I live in a dangerous world where I can't really trust others, and I have nothing contraindicating that belief, that idea can become very entrenched, and eventually the brain adapts to that kind of thinking. And I'll put this out there, too - it does not matter whether or not the belief is true. Imagine, if you will, growing up believing that the man you call daddy is your biological father, and then finding out as a teenager or an adult that, in reality, another person is your biological father. Does that change who your de facto father is? Probably not, unless you're looking for a reason to be adopted. (This is just an example for illustration; my father is my biological father).

So what's the point? I've got some cognitive dissonance going on here that I've had for a long time. On the one hand, part of me has believed for a long time that I am a defective person incapable of leading any kind of worthwhile life no matter what I try, while, on the other hand, I believe that we are children of a loving Creator made in Its image, which is perfect, holy, and in Whom nothing will be impossible. So which is it? Well, I'm going to go with the latter, which I'll talk about more in Dismantling the Program - Part II.

Namasté,

Ken

*In deference to those living with mental health disorders, especially severe mental health disorders, and in deference to those working in the mental health profession, I am not saying, "You are wrong." I invite you to look at mental health disorders in whatever way works best for you. I am simply offering my own experience for your consideration. Ken

The Power of Connection

Today I went to work, and I was blessed to hear an awesome recovery speaker. That's the way things happen for me of late - I suit up and show up and good things happen for me. Anyway, the man sharing his story really touched my heart in so many ways. You know, when we say 'touched my heart,' it's not just a figurative saying, it's literal. I could feel the effects of his sharing in my body, mainly in my chest. I get lots of stuff that goes in and out of my head all day long, but the things that really affect me, that are transformative, I feel. But as I'm listening to this guy, I realize that I'm on the clock - I'm getting paid to sit here and be uplifted. It doesn't get any better than this, and I haven't done anything other than suit up and show up.

Story telling is as old as humanity. People got together at the end of the day and shared their experiences with one another. That's how humans bond and feel connected - we have different experiences, yet we feel the same things - love, joy, fear, doubt, terror, humor, happiness, mystery, etc. 

Early on, I acquired the belief that it was better to live life alone - to not share my experiences or feelings with others. That sounds very lonely, but it's also very safe. Safety trumps connection. For me, however, being a hermit did not get my other needs met, so I learned to create the appearance of connecting with others. Basically, I learned how to act. I've spent much of my life acting as if I liked and trusted people and knew how to get along, when, in reality, I didn't. I trusted no one.

I do regret a little bit that I didn't have bigger cojones - all the times I had opportunities to look someone, someone who was trying to help me, in the eye and be honest and say to them, "You know what? I don't trust you. You know why? Because you're a human being, and human beings suck. If I put any trust whatsoever in you, you will hurt me, and that's not going to happen." I was way, way, way too nice and polite for my own damn good. In my own defense, I thought I was protecting myself, because to me, the threat was real. I was living the way I believed I had to live to survive.

So I managed to go through life acting as if I had friendships and relationships without ever really letting my guard down and letting people in. And every couple of years I would have a meltdown and become despondent and suicidal, surprising the people around me because I was such a good actor.

Five years ago, I understood that I would never be able to stay sober until I became authentic - until I let my guard down, allowed others to know the real me, and be vulnerable. That's a pretty tall undertaking for someone who didn't even know himself, and was pretty sure that himself wasn't someone anyone would want to be around anyway. I never liked me, why would anybody else? So I worked on knocking down the walls. I had one more relapse before I got to the point where I realized the job was too big for me alone.

I want to take a paragraph to interject about God and spirituality. Most of my life I've sought God, or Spirit, or Source, and, as I've mentioned in previous posts, I've got a pretty good radar for the Truth.  Somewhere inside I knew a relationship with God would 'fix' me. I thought if I could seal that relationship with God, I wouldn't have to worry about my relationship with others. My logic was a little fuzzy, now that I look at it, but I wanted the security and safety of having God in my life without the ickiness of having to get involved with the rest of His children. Some people may be able to do this; however, it doesn't seem to be my path.

So this last relapse, a little over 3 years ago, did it for me. Alcohol and depression had stripped me bare. It took me back to being the helpless, vulnerable 5 year old boy who was very afraid of living and had no idea what to do about it. I was exactly where I needed to be, and I surrendered - I stopped trying to cover up. I stopped trying to be the person who knew what he was doing. I just stopped. 

Perhaps the greatest blessing of my life is that I've always had great people in my life. Wherever I've been, from church to prison, from Ivory Towers to Skid Row, I've met the most giving, wise, compassionate, loving people a person could ever desire to meet. I've recognized this fact for a long time, but I failed to accept the gifts the Universe kept shoving in front of me - until 3 years ago. I began to say 'yes' to the kindness and compassion of those around me. I began to say 'yes' to the gifts that were laid at my feet - tentatively at first, sort of like an abused, starving dog will tentatively accept food from a kind stranger. After a bit of accepting the kindness and help from the good people in my life, I began to feel more secure. I began to feel safe. And I began to get better. I began to believe that I am a valuable person who is deserving of life and who has something to offer to others. And I discovered that that person was there all along, buried under a mountain of hurt and shit and shame. And I let others help me dig him out and clean him up. 

I've still got lots of healing to experience - I expect it to take the rest of my life. But along the way, I can help others find their way to healing. And I know that I can do that by fostering a connection with others. That's still very challenging for me. I don't get out of bed in the morning and say, "Oh wonderful! Another day of connection with the sick and injured of the world!" But I do know what is mine to do, and I willingly do it because I know I am supported in this endeavor by the Universe. I feel enough safety and security today to go out and share what I've been given.

Connection to others is what I rely upon to stay sober and sane today. Simply put, I couldn't connect with others because I was afraid and I could not trust. 

Connection is dropping the shields and letting another human being that I know what it's like to feel lost and alone, and to let that other person know that they're not as alone as they think they are, and that they are safe. It's about showing someone that it's ok and it's safe to be vulnerable, and that true Love doesn't hurt, it heals. And when I drop my shields and give my Love away, I get more Love back and I heal a little more. It's really a pretty good deal. 

Namasté

Ken

It's All Mine

I am very grateful for both of my jobs. I can only imagine where I'd be without them. Both of my jobs require me to model recovery. For me, this means that if I come into work late and angry with myself, and upset that nothing around me seems to be going right, I must behave differently than I feel. And when I begin to behave differently than I feel - in other words, when I begin to put into action the things I've learned in recovery - I see that my feelings, though they may be valid, aren't good indicators of the way I ought to behave.

A line from one of the recovery texts says something like this: "When I am upset or disturbed, there is something wrong with my thinking." The author called this a spiritual axiom, and it has been most useful to me. What this line says to me is that my natural state is peace, because I know Who's in charge, and it isn't me, and also that all is well, despite how it may seem to me. This axiom is the basis of practicing my life from the inside out, which I endeavor to do. It means that, second to my actions, my attitude is the most important thing over which I have control. 

I don't know if it's a good thing or not - I kind of think it is - that I don't outwardly show when I'm upset or disturbed. It's good in that if I always spoke or showed what was going on in my head or my feelings, I probably wouldn't have any friends or any jobs. On the other hand, suppressed emotion causes sickness and more emotional distress, which can lead to collapse. When I am unable to turn my own thinking or feelings around, I talk with one of my mentors about what is going on,

So I'm at work this morning and I'm picking on everything that everybody else did or is doing wrong. And what am I going to do. But, the niggling thought comes back, "The problem isn't out there, Ken, it's within you." Shit. So, at this point, I'm half-paralyzed, because there's stuff to do, but I don't want to act out of my disturbances, and I'm still feeling disturbed. I take things slowly, and think to myself, "What would a sane, rational person do?" And I proceed, slowly, to do that. It's like walking with a broken toe - I can still walk, but I need to step gingerly.

For instance, one of the things disturbing me was that I found out someone lied to me. Thinking error #1 - they didn't lie to me specifically - they put down false information on a sheet of paper. But I was upset, thinking, "Who does this person think he is? Does he think we're stupid?" Thinking error #2 - this person's lie had nothing to do with me or anyone else but himself. The whole thing is that I'm taking something personally that isn't directed at me at all, and, after thinking about it a bit, the consequences of this person's lying are going to be all his. What is my part in it? Upon discovering the falsification, I reported it to my superior, and am following his instructions. Boom, end of story. 

The ability to understand that my life is not what goes on around me, but what goes in within me is one of the greatest blessings I've received in recovery. Things don't have to be 'right' for me to be ok.  But, sometimes, things get reversed in my head for a while. The really neat thing is that once the above stated misperception became clearer to me, the rest of the things that were 'wrong' no longer upset me (or had power over me) either. It's stuff to deal with, one way or another, but it doesn't have to rule my emotional day.

In early recovery we're taught to act differently that we think or feel. "I need a drink." Call someone instead, or go to a meeting, or do something besides that first thought. "I'm so angry and I'm going to let everybody know." Ok, calm down and find some peace first, and if it's still important to let everybody know, do it in a way that isn't violent, abusive, or destructive to me or anyone else. In our sickness, and in our early recovery, our feelings have power over us. In recovery, we learn to take different actions, and to eventually reclaim our power over our thoughts and feelings. 

And that's why I'm really grateful for my jobs - they remind me that whatever is going on inside of me, it's all mine. Nothing and no one can cause me to feel any way - my feelings are my domain. Spiritually, mentally, emotionally, even physically, it is much better, though often more challenging, to live this way. 

The Calling from Within

Have I written yet of my intense dissatisfaction with life, as I knew it? I think I have. Genetics aside, my experience is that alcoholism and depression stem from an inability to connect with life as it appears. It's an inability to derive pleasure or satisfaction from the activities people around me are enjoying. So the search begins, and the search has taken me to different states and countries, through prison, definitely to different substances, and behaviors. 

The journey has been worthwhile. To the average, standard person, however, my life has been a waste. I've got no credit, no property to speak of, no education, no family - I got nothin'. To me, however, I have an immense encyclopedia about what doesn't work, and I have the experience to back it up. There are those of us on Earth who hear, "Don't do that," or "Just say no," and they say, "No" and then don't do it. I'm not one of those people. I know from my own personal experience that jail and prison is dehumanizing and a terrible waste of life. I know from experience the pain, shame, remorse, and sometimes terror that comes from alcoholism. I know from experience the deep depression that comes from having a fully functional brain and body yet being unable to live life successfully (as we know success). I know from experience what it's like to have hope dashed time and time again by abysmal failure in every area of life. I know from experience the intense loneliness and emotional (and often physical) isolation that those of us who live with addiction and mental illness suffer. I know what it's like to be looked down upon by my own family. What makes all of this worthwhile is that today I'm on the other side of that. What makes it worthwhile is that I can share my experience, and now my strength and hope, with others who have found the same dissatisfaction with how life looks. What really makes it worthwhile is the journey to something deeper and more meaningful.

In the United States, we live in a medicated society. For everything that makes us feel bad, there is something available to numb the bad feeling. And I'm not only talking about alcohol and illegal drugs and pharmaceuticals. There are myriad ways to numb our feelings and quiet our cognitive dissonance - entertainment, sports, sex, patriotism, nationalism, the internet, social media, consumerism, religion, and many many more. Distractions. Distractions from the pain that tugs the soul of humanity. Distractions so we don't have to focus on the fact that we are killing ourselves. If we feel the pain of knowing that we're a nation that can disregard the very lives of our children, there's something to take to numb that pain, or something to do that can distract us. And, for a lot of people, that works.

[Let me mention here that a lot of the things that we use to distract ourselves aren't bad things in and of themselves. In fact, if you follow the creation stories in Genesis, God didn't make anything bad. What is harmful is when we use things in order to avoid looking at ourselves or the Truth]. 

And, for a growing number of people, it doesn't work anymore. There's not a substance or an activity that can blind us to the mass destruction we are wreaking on ourselves. I'm one of those people.

And, the personal deal for me is that I don't necessarily always want to be one of those people. It's a challenge and it's scary. I know what is 'expected' of me by society, and I can live up to those expectations when I'm sane and sober. But those expectations don't do it for me. If I do only what is expected of me by others, my depression gets so deep that I want to self-destruct. 

So my journey is two-fold: One, to become quiet enough to listen to the still small voice within, and two, to overcome the fear and discomfort of being unconventional - of being myself. Neither are easy. Another obstacle is that my first thought always seems to be to look outside of myself for the answers, even though a lifetime of doing that has gotten me to the point of some understanding that the only answers are within.

It's a challenge. I'm not one of those people who seek enlightenment from the mountaintop - I'm one of those souls who seeks to find it in the trenches. And in the trenches, I have to do icky things, like connect with people and live and speak in ways that might be unpopular. However, when I look at life as an adventure, knowing that somewhere along the line I did chose this path, and understand that I'm fully equipped to live it, it is fun and enriching (not depressing). So I lurch along in staggered forward movements, with gratitude for the path that is mine.

Namaste,


Ken

Status Stigma

Anything can happen to anybody at any time.

I have been guilty of what I'm calling 'Status Stigma'. Very generally, it's putting other human beings on a pedestal and being surprised or disappointed when something very human happens to them. Sometimes I'm surprised when a well-known individual gets in trouble with the law, or a deep character flaw is revealed, or an addiction surfaces, or s/he dies from an addiction or a mental illness.  We like heroes, or, at least, I do, people we can look up to, admire - and it can be disappointing to me when their humanness shows up.

I think perhaps the greater crime for me is when I do it to people I know personally.  I nearly missed the opportunity to be helpful to someone who has years of long-term recovery from alcohol and drug addiction. This person came to me for assistance with some mental health issues. In my mind, I dismissed their issues as 'not serious', so I did not pay as much attention as I could have. Then I discovered that this person's life is currently seriously affected by a mental health condition. There can be a false sense of security surrounding people who have managed to stay away from alcohol and/or drugs for a long time - sort of like, 'they've got it licked.' Well, yes and no. If that person continues to use the tools that maintain their recovery, and ends up dying from something else, they won't succumb to alcoholism or addiction, but that might be the only thing that's 'licked'.

I feel I should know this: recovery in one area of our life does not guarantee problems won't crop up in other areas. I know people who have become cross-addicted - after a period of abstinence from their 'drug of choice', they may become addicted to another substance that hadn't posed a problem before. Or they may become addicted to a certain behavior. I know recovering alcoholics who have discovered they also need recovery from a gambling addiction or a sex addiction or a food addiction. And then there are those who develop another mental illness after years of recovery from alcoholism or addiction. I've known people who have been in long-term recovery from alcoholism who died by suicide. This I would call Self Status Stigma (or false pride). False pride will cause me and anyone else afflicted by it to avoid seeking help when help is needed. It happens to folks working recovery programs who are embarrassed when things happen. It happens to social workers, addictions counselors, doctors, nurses, ministers, rabbis, imams, gurus, teachers, police officers, fire fighters, soldiers - anybody. Anybody who is looked up to, or anybody who thinks they 'should know better.' Illnesses and human frailties do not discriminate. 

So, what's the solution? How do I avoid stigmatizing myself and others?

Avoiding stigmatizing me is much easier, I think - I stay open and honest with the people who are close to me. I don't try to hide when difficulties arise for me. This (so far) keeps my difficulties to a minimum. I no longer have great big huge crises. Being honest and open with others helps me stay honest and open with me. It keeps me humble, and grateful. I'm far from perfect, yet on a daily basis I seem to be able to suit up and show up and be of useful service to others. I don't help others from a position of superiority - be it education, knowledge, or time in recovery. I help from a position of understanding and empathy. This attitude, I hope, will protect me from my ego getting to big to ask for help.

Avoiding stigmatizing others is more challenging. I still like to think there are people who have this life thing down pat. I still like to think that after a certain amount of time of doing things 'right', a certain immunity to 'bad stuff' develops. I do myself and others a disservice when I put anybody on a pedestal - we all come from the same Creator, and we are all connected. When I elevate someone, I create a sense of separation - they're 'better' than me - that does not, in Truth, exist, and this can cause me to be blind to their humanity. Right now, the solution to this sort of discrimination is for me to correct it when I catch it, and begin to understand that all of us have a human nature and a divine nature. 

Oddly enough, that is the point of this blog, if I recall - for me to begin to understand that I am a spiritual entity having a human experience, and it's all good.

So, I will continue to avoid denying you your humanity while recognizing your divinity. And in allowing you to be you, with all your attendant sufferings, perhaps I'll get a little bit better at allowing me to be me.

And I'll keep remembering, anything can happen to anybody at any time.

Namaste,

Ken

Why Even Bother?

I've made a commitment to myself to write only positive, uplifting, helpful posts. We'll see how this goes:

I've met some people that do not have the self-destruct switch. Killing themselves or using alcohol and other drugs in an effort to stop the pain of living does not occur to them. They love life, no matter what. (I wonder if researchers have studied their brains to see what's right with them?) I'm obviously not one of those people. I think I was born with a bad attitude, and, as life bore on, my outlook got more and more negative. Today I experience miracles in my life of which (I think) most people wouldn't even be aware - miracles like "I got through an entire day without thinking, "This is all bullshit." What is a miracle to me never crosses another's mind. Oh well, gotta deal with me, not other people, ultimately.

I have had moments lately where I have asked the question, "Why am I doing this? Why live?" It's really hard to admit that, but it is the truth. (Another couple of miracles here - the moments have been only moments, not entire weeks or months, and I'm admitting it.) Sometimes outer stuff affects me. I take a look around my world, and I don't understand it. Behavior that appalls me. People who seem as dense as granite yet (seemingly) breeze through life. The incomprehensible pain that some folks go through. How human beings treat each other. Yeah, stuff like that leads me to ask things like, "If there's no hope for humanity, why bother?" I had a few of those moments today. 

Yes, Virginia, sometimes I fake it 'til I make it. There are a couple of reasons for this: One, it's impossible to get to happy if I'm always frowning - if I smile when I don't feel like smiling, I at least have a chance of getting there; two, it's not my place to piss on anyone else's parade. Would I love to stand on top of a very tall soapbox and scream to the entire world just exactly what is wrong with it? Oh, you betcha. However, I'm told that, in those moments, I'm not sane, and, if the world is as I think it is sometimes, telling it how f#$%ed up it is wouldn't have much of an effect. I might feel better, though...

Have you ever said something that you wished you hadn't? If you've got a mouth and vocal cords, you probably have. About four years ago, I was sitting in the locked ward of a hospital in another county, and I said, "I'm here to show the miracle-working power of God," and in that moment I knew I was screwed. God loves a volunteer. You see, a miracle can't happen if there's nothing to overcome. Jesus didn't perform miracles on healthy people livin' the good life. Jesus performed miracles on people who really needed assistance overcoming their own humanity. The miracles that are ascribed to Jesus all seem to have happened in an instant. Well, time is relative, and perhaps in 50 years all the miracles I've had will seem like they occurred in an instant. Right now, they're not. Sometimes, I feel every painful nanosecond. But whatever, right?

I think I mentioned in the last post one of the reasons I endeavor to stay alive - I have a really strong belief that this lifetime isn't my final shot, and ending it prematurely won't alleviate me of any upcoming lessons. This lifetime, next lifetime - I'm at the (sometimes painful) point where I'm willing to take care of this stuff right here and now. And I'll give you an example of something I chose to not face: My father passed away a few years ago, and I chose to not try too hard to patch up our relationship while he was still living, even though I know that it'll be coming around in the next lifetime in a different form. I now regret not trying very hard. All I did do, really, was to take care of his needs in the present. I was still filled with much anger and resentment, though I rarely showed it to him. It seemed easier to do that than to try to do any healing. 

There's other reasons to stay alive - I finally, finally believe that my thinking is not always right. Sometimes I assume things that are painful to me, yet they have nothing whatsoever to do with reality. The pain is still real, however. And there are times when I can look at the same thing in a multitude of ways. This is one of the benefits of the cognitive behavioral therapy I've been learning and practicing the past couple of years. So I know that, in any given moment, my reality may not really be reality. There's another miracle right there - that I can successfully pass through a day without knowing what's real and what's not (I just don't react to the stuff that's questionable).  And then there's the fact that I don't know how much importance to place on events. Another for instance: have you ever been raging mad at your computer or phone for taking its time? No, of course not. Well, I have, and I'm grateful for the understanding that it's not so important that I should go about smashing my electronic devices with a hammer. This too, shall pass, and I have bigger chickens to fry.

Then there's my spiritual beliefs, which I continue to work on making them stronger and stronger in my life:

There is only one God (Source, Universe, Creator, whatever, It doesn't care what you call It) and It is Good and Supports Life. The only devil in the world is between my ears, and it only has as much power as I give it. Therefore, giving in to the shit storm in my brain would be giving in to the devil, which is really non-existent in the first place. Doh! The God of my understanding not only didn't, but couldn't create a universe that doesn't make sense, so to think that being a human, I'm on a sinking ship, and I might as well jump into the icy waters now rather than later is incorrect thinking. And, I am coming more and more to believe that the world, or my reality, is really created by me, and that I have the means available to day by day, moment by moment, create a reality that is a little more palatable.

Then there's my faith, which is different than my spiritual beliefs. My faith is my action. What am I doing to make my beliefs reality? I've been working the heck out of my spiritual tools (they're no longer in mint condition from sitting on the shelf for years). I put these beliefs into practice, and I see the results, which increases my faith. It's a vicious spiral upwards. 

So yes, I'll continue bothering. And, I think I've accomplished something here - I think I've touched upon how messed up in the head I can be while still remaining positive. Life has to be worth living. And it is. Even with the dark moments, the frustrations, the doubts, life is worth living - if I persevere, and don't go it alone.

If you've read this far, God bless you - you're a trooper for even venturing out toward my neighborhood. In any event, I feel a lot better after writing this than before.

Namaste,

Ken

Why Recover?

I work with people who desire recovery - from either addiction/alcoholism and/or mental illness. Sometimes I run across folks who are on the fence - they desire a better way of living, but aren't yet ready to give up their present way of living. I know how to guide people in recovery. I know the actions to take and the things to avoid. If a person is open, honest, and willing, I can show them the way, because I have been shown the way and walked the path myself. It's a wonderful thing to be able to do that.

I don't know how to get anyone to quit drinking or using drugs. Well, maybe I do, but I wouldn't suggest my path. It involves multiple arrests, multiple incarcerations, multiple marriages, multiple failed attempts at education and jobs, multiple health scares, lots of loss, and, finally, the loss of self.  It's been a really, really long path to get to where I am today, and I can't recommend it to anybody because they might not survive what I have survived.

So, my question to me has been lately, "How much, if any, energy and time do I spend on someone who isn't ready to give up their illness in order to get well?"  Before I was in the human services field, the answer was, "Not much. They'll come when they're ready, if they don't die first." Now that I'm getting paid to do it, the answer is different. And as I wrote that, that brings a bothersome question to mind - do I have to get paid in order to not turn my back on someone? That sucks. I'll deal with that later.

How do I let someone know that if they've had problems with alcohol in the past that changing their environment or changing what they drink or switching to a better drug or finding a better girlfriend/job/church/car probably will not be all that helpful in the long run?

I think right now all I can do is state why I am in recovery (or 
discovery, as I like to think of it): I have been tired of me for a long time. I didn't start drinking and using drugs and searching for things that might make me happy because I was totally happy with myself and with life. I drank and sought other ways to be OK because I wasn't OK. As I have stated innumerable times before, and I'll state again, if any of that stuff I tried to use to make myself happy actually worked, I would not be sitting here right now. I'd be a rich, fat happy drunk living in Utah with 17 wives. Now, one can examine that sentence and see that those words don't even go together. Not gonna happen.

I believe that humans, at least this human, are made up of two things - our soul, which to me is the individuation of Source expressing, and our ego, which is the very limited version of our soul in human form. In other words, we are spiritual beings having a human experience. This is not a new idea, by the way. The challenge with this is that in our human experience we've forgotten who we really are.  It's as if we went to acting school, graduated, and landed the role of Hamlet, and gotten so into the role that we've forgotten that we're not really Hamlet. And long after the play is over, we're still acting like Hamlet, and that causes problems in life. Because it was a play. It wasn't real.

So the challenge I have is that there is a Real Me, and an Earth me, and the Real Me is a much better deal than the Earth me, but the Earth me is much louder and seems more real to me than the Real Me really is. (And now you know just a little bit of what it's like to live in my head!)

Real Me is tucked up inside Earth me somewhere, and my job is to find Real Me. One of the big differences between Earth me and Real Me is that Earth me lives from the outside in, and Real Me lives from the inside out. Earth me needs things like approval and sex and good looks and money and things to be happy. Real Me doesn't need anything. Earth me lives in a fear-based world of scarcity; Real Me is Love and lives in abundance. Earth me doesn't always believe Real Me exists - in fact, it took a really long time for me to even get a glimpse of Real Me, so enmeshed in Earth me that I was. But Real Me is real, and each day I set about re-discovering Real Me and letting him It out on Earth.

The reason drinking, drugging, chasing money, approval, physical love, etc., doesn't work for Earth me is because Earth me can't get enough of anything, and Real Me taps Earth me lightly on the shoulder and lets him know. Bit by bit, day by day, I let Real Me out to play as Earth me fades away.

So why recover? Because the drunk in me is not the Real Me, and it's become really painfully apparent to me. Why get mentally healthy? Because every thought I have about living in lack and limitation is not Real(ly) Me, and having a consciousness that lives in lack and limitation is a really miserable place to live. So, recovery is about discovery of who Real Me is, and in order to allow Real Me to shine, I need to let go of my old actions and my old thinking. It does not happen overnight, and it is very challenging. But the more I continue down the path of discovery, the more rewarding it becomes.

So I suppose what I would say to someone on the fence is that if you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you've always gotten, and if that makes you happy, keep it up. If it doesn't, try a different path, and I'll be happy to walk with you.

Namaste,

Ken

Family (Affected Loved Ones)

Now that I work entirely in the field of mental health and addiction recovery, I find that I come into contact with the families and loved ones of those affected by mental health conditions/addictions as much, if not more, as the people experiencing the conditions themselves. I remember reading or hearing some statistic that a person's active alcoholism adversely affects 5 people in the alcoholic's life. So, if we just take a guess about that, we could see that a person who is experiencing active alcoholism might be affecting their parents, their children, their employer, their spouse or partner, and perhaps a close friend. If we expand our imagination a little further, we might see how the alcoholic, especially toward the end of their alcoholic journey, might affect others, such as health care professionals, emergency responders, and law enforcement personnel. And I write about alcoholism because it is that with which I'm most familiar. In actuality, any mental health condition can have a major impact not only on the person experiencing it first-hand, but on others in that person's life.

The point is that mental health conditions, including alcoholism and addiction, make everyone sick to some point. Who can watch someone we care for continue to behave in self-destructive ways and not be affected by that behavior ourselves? Even if there's a tangible reason for the behavior, such as a soldier or emergency responder experiencing PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder), it still hurts to see someone going through that. And very often, what hurts more is that the person experiencing the mental health condition is not always aware that their behavior hurts others.

I can share from my own experience that I was under the delusion that my maladaptive behavior affected only me. My conditions, alcoholism and major depressive order, caused me to isolate and be unconscious much of the time. Additionally, since I no longer cared about me, it was impossible for me to care about others in any real way. My experience is that alcoholism and depression are both very self-centered, self-consuming conditions. It seemed impossible to think of anything but my own misery and how to end it. (Fortunately, in recovery, I have regained the ability to care about others in my life. In fact, the thought that a relapse on my part would be hurtful to some in my life is part of what keeps me in recovery).

Over the past two years, and especially the past year, I have had a lot of contact with family members and friends of those experiencing mental health conditions. When asked for advice, my advice is always, "Save yourself first!" Of course, I usually say it in a much nicer way, but that's the general theme.

The issue that often comes up when someone hears this is the thought that, "Hey, I'm not the sick one. I haven't spent the last two weeks unable to get out of bed, or I don't use drugs/alcohol, or I still make it to work every day. They're the one with the problem! Tell me how to fix them!" Here's the real deal without mincing any words - Nobody can fix anybody but themselves. This is especially hard to grasp if the loved one in question is your child. "After all," you cry, "didn't I fix their scrapes when they fell growing up? Didn't I hold them when their tummy hurt and make it all better? Didn't I dry their tears when they were sad?" Yes, yes you did, and perhaps this is one of the drawbacks of being human - the person with whom we are so intimately connected is still an individual who has his/her own experiences to go through in their lifetime. After a certain time, no matter how much we might want to, we cannot control the events in another person's life.

"Ok, fine, maybe I can buy that. Their issues are their issues. Why do I need to save myself? I don't have their issues." And this may be true. However, any time we spend time, energy, and emotion on something we can't change or control, we make ourselves a little bit sick. Resistance or denial to what is makes anybody sick to some extent. The reason for this is that the loved one most often sees the effects of the condition, but rarely can see the cause. And, because mental health conditions tend to wipe out self-awareness, the person suffering may be unable to see the cause.

An example. Many, many people think alcoholics have drinking problems. It is well known that to a certain percentage of the population, alcohol is poison - they don't react well. But to this person, alcohol is not the problem, alcohol is the solution. If alcoholism were purely a physical allergy, one would treat it like one treats allergies to say, peanuts. Stay away from peanuts! And that's what most folks think about alcoholism/addiction - the person only gets sick or in trouble when they use the substance, so there'd be no more sickness/trouble if they wouldn't use the substance.

Correct - kind of. But alcoholism/addiction is not simply a physical allergy to a substance. The nature of addiction is that something in the brain is either organically different or has changed over time, making the person who has the addiction unable to act in their best interest concerning substance use. There is something going on in the mind of the alcoholic/addict that feels bad, and the brain tells the person that there is a substance that will fix it. This urge can be so overpowering to the person experiencing it that s/he will succumb to it even when the expected consequence of using is death.

Sometimes the loved one thinks they did something to cause the addiction or the mental health condition. This is not true at all. Mental health conditions are brain disorders. They often have environmental triggers; however, a person must be predisposed to the disorder in order to get it. Take two soldiers who fought in the same battle and survived. One goes on to fight some more, the other becomes incapacitated by PTSD. Is the one who survived both physically and mentally stronger or better than the other? Was he raised better? No. The one who survived mentally does not have the predisposition to PTSD. The one who did not survive does. The trauma was just the precipitating event - it brought to light what was already happening in the brain.

So what's a family member or loved one to do? Basically, it is this: 
1. get an understanding (education) what your loved one is really going through;
2. accept that you cannot change or cure them yourself;
3. accept that your living in this situation has not been healthy for you;
4. find out how to change your self so that you can remain sane and gain some peace of mind while fostering an environment that will invite the person with the condition to seek help. In other words, learn how to be supportive, both to yourself and the other person.

And how can one do this? These are the resources I know of that can be helpful in these situations (if you are reading this but aren't local to my area, seek out similar organizations in your locale):*
Al-Anon Family Groups (family/loved ones of alcoholics)
NAMI Basics (education)
NAMI Family to Family (education)
NAMI Support Groups

Again, the best advice for a loved one of someone with a mental health or substance abuse condition is to become the healthiest and most educated you can be so that you can be of support without sacrificing your own mental/emotional/physical health.

Namaste,

Ken

*Disclaimer: Even though I work for NAMI, I write this for myself. Additionally, there is more support out there than what I've got listed, but the above links will get you on the road.

True Poverty

When I began working for NAMI-Waukesha, I was asked to be on the board of the Housing Action Coalition for Waukesha County. The by-laws of the board require that one of the members be someone who is currently experiencing homelessness or has recently experienced homelessness. I've experienced homelessness a few times in my life, the most recent being May - September 2015, right here in Waukesha. Thankfully, as I progress in my recovery, I move further away from homelessness. I'm not sure exactly what my role is on the HAC other than to add my perspective. Because of this, I was introduced to the CAC, the Community Action Coalition, which deals specifically with poverty. I'm not sure (and perhaps I should be) what the actual government definition of poverty is, but I believe it has to do with a certain level of income, underemployment, lack of adequate housing, or inability to survive without public assistance.

I no longer meet the government definition of poor. However, that doesn't mean that I'm not living in poverty.

Many years ago, because both my parents worked, I was in day-care (this is before day care was commonplace). The very kind Catholic lady that took care of me and some other children also helped out the sick and the poor. One of the ladies she helped was morbidly obese, but my caretaker said she was suffering from malnutrition. I asked how that was, and was told that she ate nothing but potato chips, and one can't get all the nutrition they need from potato chips. I know, I've tried!

So, is true poverty lack? Lack of money, lack of decent housing, nutrition, clothing, etc? Or are those things simply evidence of true poverty?

This is today what I believe poverty is - it is the idea that what I need today can't be got by me. True poverty is a state of consciousness. I'm going to give one more anecdote, and then list the elements of true poverty.

It is my understanding that there is a person living in the 'richest' suburb of Milwaukee who has a fear every day of becoming homeless. I can kind of relate - I live in some relatively low-rent housing (it's a nice place, though), so it's easy for me to maintain my housing status. I would imagine that if I 'owned' a 1/2 million or million-dollar home, that I might be a little more worried about making the monthly mortgage. But what does one really have if their consciousness surrounding property ownership causes only fear?

So here is my definition of True Poverty:
Rarely, if ever, feeling I have enough and am enough. The belief that if someone takes away my property, or if I lose it through some catastrophe, my life will be over. A feeling of disconnect with and distrust of those around me. The belief that there is always a 'them', and I always need to be on my guard. The belief that I always have to watch my back, or I'll get screwed. The belief that I alone am the source of all I am or all I have, or the belief that my good comes from any human made, temporary thing, including a job, government, or religion. The belief that my bank account and investment portfolio is an accurate measure of my true worth. The constant urge to always acquire more - that nagging emptiness inside that leads me to look for food, sex, money, goods, education, social status, and approval. It's the feeling that I am lacking in any way, no matter how much or little I have materially, what my job is, or who is or isn't my mate.

My definition of Prosperity is a lot less complicated: I know that the Universe (God, Source, the Lord, HP) is my Creator and therefore I am connected. I am whole. I am safe, I am loved, I am protected. I am provided all I need today physically, emotionally, spiritually, and my task is to open my eyes more and more each day to this reality. My other task is to give of myself as much as I possibly can to make room inside of me for more. Everything, absolutely everything in my life is an outpicturing of my inner life; it is the effect, not the cause. So when I feel lack in any area, I must turn within if I want lasting satisfaction.

To put it really simply, the first definition I gave is called fear, the second called Love. Today I choose to live life in Love.

Namaste,

Ken

Chaos Withdrawal

I have been going through something the past couple of months where I just don't feel right. Lately, it has manifested itself in a slight recurrence of depression symptoms - wanting to sleep, sleep, sleep, and dreading the future instead of looking forward to it. Fortunately, today I can look at my lack of enthusiasm and my lack of desire to become engaged with life as a symptom that something's not quite right rather than the way I used to look at those feelings - I used to feel like those feeling were the truth about me - that I was lazy and disinterested in life.

I think I know what part of it is - I recently changed my vocational activities. Previously, I had one full-time job at an inbound call center in Brookfield, and two part-time jobs in Waukesha. In January I released the call center job, and one of my other jobs became full-time. My call center job had hours all over the place, and I was always busy to some degree. Additionally, there were performance parameters at the call center job, and I had specific things to do with specific ways to do them. 

My new work schedule is pretty much 8:30 - 4:30 M-F, and then 8-4 Saturday and Sunday for my part-time job. Additionally, I have a lot more time on my hands, as the commute to either job is under 30 minutes each way. Way under, actually. That's pretty boring, very stable, not much to remember. 

I recently (yesterday) had a performance review at one of my jobs. It was excellent! I'm doing very well! Now if I can only convince myself! Neither of my current jobs have as many performance parameters as my old full-time job did. Certainly there are things at both jobs that I must do, but, for the most part, what I do each day and how I do it is largely determined by me, so long as it falls within my job descriptions and the policies and procedures of each of my employers. Other than the occasional emergency, there just isn't a lot of stress at either of my jobs. At my old full-time job, each day was stressful, but it was stress like exercise - like loading boxes onto a truck is stressful. When you're done for the day, you're done for the day.

So, that's great - I have plenty of stress-free work where I'm allowed to do stuff I enjoy and am good at. Great news! Unless I'm addicted to the cortisol created by daily stress - then it means I have to get used to a whole new way of life, and it might even (will be) uncomfortable.

"At the root of the addiction...is a reluctance to deal with ourselves on a deeper, more personal level. Cramming every moment of our lives with work, appointments and tasks means we don’t have to think about larger issues. And as it turns out, people will do almost anything to avoid themselves." Rachel Nuwer,  from the article I linked to.

So is that why my inner voice has been nudging me to meditate more, to exercise more, to make better use of my free time? Is that why my home is still disorganized, tho' I've lived there 2 months already? I may dream of a serenely creative life, but what does that really look like? I've never lived one of those before!

It's that big ugly word, fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of success, fear of responsibility. And all I know to overcome fear skillfully, is to consciously face it head on. To simply say, 'Damn the torpedos, full steam ahead!' and to let the chips fall where they may. 

Pain is an indicator that something needs to change. My indicators usually come through psychic pain. I don't like pain, and chemicals no longer work to alleviate my pain (except those produced by exercise, which is a good thing, I think), so I am left with changing whatever needs to be changed so I can live pain free (one of the reasons that I don't take a lot of credit for 'how far' I've come - you'd get pretty far, too, if you had a big grizzly bear named Pain on your ass!).

Mentally, I have to wrap my thoughts around, "I am doing a good job. I am exactly where I'm supposed to be, doing what I'm supposed to be doing." The only one complaining about my performance is me.

So, as usual, it's all good - I simply have to accept it.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Namaste,

Ken

Let Freedom Ring

In my last post, I wrote a bit about building my own prison, and how, if I've constructed the walls that keep me from living a joyous and abundant life, then I also have the power to deconstruct those walls.

I've found that tearing down the walls is a stone-by-stone process. That's sort of bad news for a person who wants everything the moment I think it - in other words, NOW. The good news is that the process of tearing down the wall I've built is a process that makes me stronger the more I do it. Additionally, I don't have to do it alone, or by my own wits. I have lots of help. I only have to be willing.

I have been saving up money and looking for an apartment - a nicer place to live than where I'm living now. That's not a bad goal. It's a good goal. But, there were a couple of hitches that I was aware of, but thought that I could work my way around. Apparently not - it looks like I'll have to work my way through.

I've applied for a place I really like and can afford. I hadn't heard anything back from the apartment manager, and I left a message with them yesterday or the day before, asking about the status of my rental application.

The challenge for me in looking for a new place to live is my past - it's a little spotty in places. On paper, I don't look like someone who would necessarily make a desirable tenant. Or, to put it in a bit of a nicer way, there are other apartment hunters out there who are probably more desirable than I am. So, I have been concerned with that. It's been in the back of my mind, and sometimes the front, for a few weeks now.

This morning, I woke up with a resentment. That doesn't happen often, so I usually pay attention when it does. Resentments are poison for me. (Actually, they're poison for anyone, but for folks in substance abuse recovery, resentments are particularly potent poisons). It doesn't matter what or who the resentment is about. In that way, it's like alcohol - it doesn't matter if I'm drinking Chivas Regal or Night Train, it's all poison to me. The same with resentments - no matter who it's about, no matter if it's justified or not, or even real or not, a resentment is poison.

So anyway, I wake up with a resentment this morning toward a person whom I think is keeping me from my good (a nice place to live) by some actions they took several years ago. And this is what Source and wisdom point out to me: 

(This is my Higher Power speaking): First of all, Ken that person's action was a reaction to your irresponsible actions, and it was perfectly justified. Second of all, you have not yet faced the consequences of your irresponsible actions. To blame someone else for anything that is going on in your life negates your Power of Choice, and makes you a victim. YOU ARE NOT A VICTIM! So don't play one. I understand you want a nicer place to live, and YOU understand that you can't have anything until you own it in your consciousness. So here's what you need to do:
1. Pray for the person you resent - bless them, forgive them, and release them. They have no influence on you today, other than what you come up with in your mind.
2. Have you noticed that the amount you have saved up for your apartment is the same amount of the consequences of your irresponsible actions? If you take your 'apartment' money and change it into 'restitution', your way will be made clear. 
3. Speaking of resentment - have you noticed, too, that you hate where you're living now? That's a lot of negative energy you're sinking into a  place you don't want to be. If you really want to move on, accept and bless where you're at, and make the best of it. You haven't been doing that lately, have you? If you did get a new place today, you'd f%$# it up with your shitty attitude, no matter how nice a place it might be. Your happiness is your business, and it's an inside job. Remember, when you allow Me to fix your insides, your outside will take care of itself. Isn't that the way it's been working this past year? So...
Do what you know in your heart to be right. Pay your restitution, and take care of the space where you're at. You might not move to another physical place right away, but the space that counts - the space in your heart and in your head - will be much more pleasant and comfortable than it has been.

And after I decided to do the right thing, the apartment manager called me and let me know my application was denied. I thanked her for getting back to me, and I knew in that moment what my course of action was to be.

So that's it. At least for this particular stone. I'm really very grateful, because until recently, every mess I've made has seemed impossible to rectify, so I've always sought ways to ignore or evade the consequences of my actions. This experience of being a responsible individual with integrity is still very new to me, so each time I step up to the plate rather than running away, it's a miracle to me. And I've learned, too, that my miracles are my miracles - nobody else in the world needs to give a darn but me.

Namaste,

Ken

Prison

I haven't written a lot about prison. I don't know why, other than I don't feel prison adversely affected me any more or less than any other experience I've had. I crossed out 'or less' because I still believe my years in primary and secondary education were worse than my years in prison. Of course, I spent 12.5 years in school before I became an 'adult', and I've spent only 5 years of my life incarcerated in jails and prisons.

I got in more fights in school than I did in prison.

For those of you who are curious, I have five felonies on my record, and I have done prison time for 3 of them. I have a bad check over $1000, 3 automobile thefts, and the theft of a large amount of money (theft, not robbery - I didn't take it by force).

I don't steal things anymore. I was a thief before I ever started using alcohol. The alcohol use made me a better and bolder thief. Looking at it today, the reason I no longer steal anything is because I truly believe that I already have, or at least can acquire, everything I need today. If I want something I don't have, I can either work for it, ask for it, or decide that it's just a want, not a need.

I also don't steal anymore because I've reached a level of self-respect that stealing doesn't jibe with. I learned during the time that I was self-employed that if I can get out of bed in the morning, get dressed, and get out in the world, I can make a living. (I would like to explore that more, because I have this nagging idea that I can probably legally make an even better living than I'm making now).

When I was a youngster, I thought I might like to be in the military; however, because I had lost my eye at age 11, I was ineligible for military service. I know today that I wouldn't have been any better off for being in the military, and, because of my experience with prison, I have no desire to sleep in a barracks with a bunch of other men. Just one of those things.

I learned a few valuable things in prison:
1. Nobody is a [put your favorite crime here] all of the time. The men with whom I shared the prison experience were all human beings with varied traits. If one were to meet most of them on the streets today, one would not know they were ex-convicts.
2. Most of the men in prison are addicts, alcoholics, or have a mental health condition that was existing before they got to prison.
3. Most of the men in prison, no matter their chronological age, have an emotional age of around adolescence. It seems like impulse control is a big issue.
4. I learned many positive people skills in prison. During my entire time of incarceration, I was in no fights, and I got punched once - and that was my fault. I learned to choose my battles, and I learned that most everybody is filled with fear - from the biggest thug to the smallest guy there. Prison is a fear driven place.
5. There are very few atheists in prison. 
6. Prison is easier, and sometimes safer, than real life life on the outside.
7. A responsibility-free life (prison) is not enriching.

And, the three most important things I learned in prison are:

I built these walls. I've spent time in a few prisons in Kansas. Two of the state prisons, Lansing and Hutchinson, were built back in the days when inmates were used to build prisons. One day I was standing in the yard at Hutchinson Correctional Facility and looking at its 30-foot stone walls, and I thought about the men who built them. And then it hit me - I built these walls. One of the most freeing ideas I can utilize is that if I feel trapped or imprisoned, it's because of my thinking and actions. And, if my thinking is powerful enough to imprison me, it must be powerful enough to free me. All I have to do is learn how.

My time in prison was just another work-around to try to cover up my inability to handle life. Very simply put, it was easier for me to commit a crime and let the state or county take care of me than it was for me to take care of myself. I simply got tired of living that way. I haven't found myself incarcerated since April, 2002.

Prison is a big waste of time and money and life. Most people come out of prison worse for the experience. Some don't. Many inmates spend time day after day after day doing nothing but watching TV or playing games. There is, relatively, very little rehabilitation or meaningful work. Prison breaks up families. Prison is one of the methods our society uses to deal with people and problems we don't want to deal with. Out of sight, out of mind. The only time we think about prisoners is when someone is on trial and about to go in, or when someone who has committed a heinous crime is about to get out. The rest of the time, there are thousands of human beings who are forgotten. That is a waste. No human being was created to be imprisoned. Instead of looking at criminals and saying, "What is wrong with those people," we might be better served as a whole by saying, "What happened to this person that s/he is leading this kind of life? What can be done to help them heal?" When we truly begin to believe that each and every life matters, and to understand that those who engage in hurtful behavior are more sick that wrong, we will begin to find answers. There truly is no need to waste human life.

I am grateful for my prison experience. That may sound odd, but I have appreciated life more AP (after prison) than BP (before prison). Most people know they don't want to be locked up. I know I don't want to be locked up and I know why. I know what it's like to come out the other side and not only survive, but thrive. I would not be the person I am today if I had not experienced incarceration. I think that's a good thing.

Anyway, onward and upward. If you've made it this far, thanks!

Namaste, 

Ken

Please check this site out...

Hi Dear Reader(s),

I ran across an article in Sunday's Milwaukee Journal/Sentinel Business Section entitled "Website Chronicles Patient Experience," about a project at UW-Madison to bring a UK project to the US. The article lists a website where patients' experiences with depression are chronicled, and I thought I would share this link to 1), shed some light on what living with depression is like, and 2), get you to look it over and report back to me, because I might not get to it and then forget about it.

Here it is:
http://healthexperiencesusa.org/

So, please check it out when you get a chance, and see if it is a good site to look at.

Namaste,

Ken