Humor: Marathons and Pink Plastic Bags Full of Stinky Poop

Just a little warning, if you have a weak stomach in relation to animal feces, don't bother reading this somewhat true accounting of my life with my dog. If you don't have weak stomach to above mentioned situation, feel free to enjoy.

When I got up this morning, I woke to my dog, Baby Girl, needing an immediate bio-break. So I dressed in sweatpants and a white t-shirt, put my shoes on and leashed up the little angel with horns. I walk down the stairs, almost losing my footing twice to her urgent yanking at the leash. I can tell by the yanking at the leash that Baby hadn't been out in a while. We clear the stairs and we round the back side of my apartment building to the official dog "walking area".

It is a blustery morning. A cold wind is blowing hard from an arctic front moving in. I can tell it is an arctic front because the pair of built in, God-given temperature gauges or as the rest of the world refers to them as nipples, scream a "hello" loud and clear to the world through the white tee I am wearing. Let me put it to you this way, it is cold enough that I can hang a rain coat off these suckers right now, well the left one at least. The right one is still a little shy.

After an instant squat and river of urine pooling up under the grass, Baby girl starts roaming the grassy area sniffing like she is part hound, which she is not. My built-in temperature gauges are now indicating it is time to go back in. I call Baby and we walk back around the building and back up the stairs. I notice, as I always do, how quickly the 35-year-old Baby (her doggy-years age of 35 divided by 7 equals her actual age of 5) sprints up the stairs compared to me, being only five years older, hobbling up the stairs one step at a time and not anywhere near a sprinters pace.

I get back inside; throw on a sweatshirt and a hoody zipped all the way to the neck. I then proceed to give myself a bio-break. I eat a little breakfast; eggs, bacon, medication and orange juice, in case you were wondering. I sit down to start doing some reading as I finish my Orange Juice and I see Baby Girl peering around the chair, which is an indicator of only one thing: She wasn't done.

I get back up and walk to the door. I put my shoes back on. I grab Baby's leash and she is jumping up and down with excitement like I didn't just take her out fifteen minutes ago.  She stops jumping just long enough to get her leash on her and then she squeezes in two more leaps of joy, or maybe they are leaps of impatience, before I get the door open. I open the door and we repeat the awkward trip down the stairs.

It isn't as cold this trip, sweatshirt and hoody get all the credit for that, but now it is raining lightly. Whether you want it to or not, just wait fifteen minutes and the weather in Oregon is bound to change. We round the apartment building to the walking area and Baby does that little awkward squat that all dogs do when they are about to dump a Titanic equivalent load on the ground. And what a healthy load it is. As she is excavating her bowels of the last ten days worth of meals, I swear that she is the only dog in the world that can actually poop out more than she eats; I prepare the little pink plastic bag for pick up duty. That's right; I am a responsible dog owner. My wife is as well.

My dog is one of those that can't stand in one spot to do her business. She has to walk around between each turd, which only exacerbates the grossness of cleaning up after her. I told you I was a responsible dog owner, but that doesn't make the job any less disgusting. See when you have to walk several paces to pick the next turd, you are left with a handful of poo in your hands that is either ready to fall out on the ground, which means you have to bend over to pick it up again, or it is getting squished in your hands releasing all of the power of the stench of dog poo, which I might add is 100000000000000000000000 times more potent than any cat can muster on it's worse day. It is safe to say that my dog's poo could jump start a vomit in the most seasoned of veterinarians.  I am just glad I ate before this trip down, because if I had been hungry before, I am not hungry now.

She spends five minutes hunched over with nothing coming out. She is just walking around looking like the hunchback of Notre Dame and I am standing there watching her with a fistful of poo, and only this little, ultra-thin plastic bag standing between my hand and her poo. But that little pink bag doesn't protect me from the stink of the situation.

Sorry, I got sidetracked from the purpose of this story, straying into the realm of poo. It happens when you have the world's most efficient poop factory living in your house. Around the apartment we go, over to the dumpster to dispose of Baby's little gift to the world. I always joke, with myself at least, that every time Baby Girl poops, she is making a deposit into my 401k? If you have seen my 401k you would know that I wasn't really making a joke there.

We head back over to the apartment, up the stairs; she is just as quick this time as she was twenty-five minutes ago and I am all that much slower. I open the door and unleash her. My shoes come off and finally, I can sit down and actually wake up. She won't have to go out again until about 5:00 PM and it is now 10:30 AM.

I am wrong.

I am sitting in my chair, relaxing with no television, radio, computer or other electronic distractions, reading my book. From the corner of my eye I see Baby peering at me from around the chair. I put my book down; closing it and losing my place damn it. I look at her and say, "Really?" She responded in kind with a pathetic little whine. "You have got be kidding me!" I was a little more than frustrated at this point.

Down the stairs, around the building, hunkering over and the juiciest, nastiest sounding diarrhea I have ever heard, and I suffer from IBS, comes shooting out of her. Now the first thing that comes to my mind isn't "Oh, no... Baby Girl is sick." No I am not that responsible of a dog owner. Instead I am trying to figure out how the hell I am supposed to clean up liquid poo with a plastic bag and my hand. It didn't take long before I decided that it just wasn't going to happen.

I ended up making eight trips down and back up the stairs before noon. Baby Girl needed two baths because she got splattered by her owner version of Niagara Falls on two different trips. The by the time morning ended I felt like I had just finished a marathon. Not one of those people who finish a marathon with both hands thrust in the air because they finished in the top 100. No I am the guy who finishes dead last and collapses from exhaustion just as his foot crosses the finish line.

Read More

Coping Tool = Relationship Issues

One of the ways I deal with chronic pain is to detach myself from it, almost like detaching my brain from my body. Some call this compartmentalization, but really is can come across more like Disassociation.  This can be effective to allow me accomplish every day chores, like getting gas, doing dishes, washing clothes, etc. It is the primary coping mechanism I have used for the last 10 years off and on.

But it has had a very negative impact on the relationships with my life. I find myself in a place where I can easily detach from the people in my life. Combine this with the fact that I am an INFJ and this detachment can seem very cold and calloused. I generally avoid certain places and events, like my hometown, class reunions and even family reunions as well as many others. My anxiety just shoots through the roof when I am forced into these places and situations. I find it hard to be a loving husband, son, father, co-worker and friend.

While I know this is not good, I simple don't care; truly no sense of emotion in regards to this or other's feelings about it. Sound a little narcissistic I guess, but I am really not. I don't have the need for personal gratification and I definitely don't have a God Complex. I just really don't care. If the world was to be destroyed tomorrow and I was lone survivor in the world, I would be fine with that. My wife isn't fine with me being fine with it, but that's really the issue isn't it. I don't have, and can't seem to develop an emotional attachment to anyone or anything.

While it is definitely a benefit to be able to do this for pain, just to get done what needs to be done, it is proving very difficult on the people who are forced to have a relationship with  me such as my parents, kids and wife. I cannot shut it off and it is damaging to my relationships, which while I know it is bad, I can't stop the not caring attitude. I have been told by my oldest daughter (11yo at the time) during a father daughter day we had last spring that she feels scared because she sensed that I was pulling away. My mom has said that I am cold person that is difficult to connect with. But then again, my mom also said, "You're am an asshole." I can definitely see her point of view.

My wife has also mentioned that I don't really give or receive empathy as well and has frequently mentioned that I am an ass.

I say this to see if anyone else experiences this lack of connection to other people. If so, how do you help others cope with the fact that is the way you are. I am at a loss of how to deal with the whole situation myself, but I know that I am hurting those around me and don't really care. Again I know this is wrong, so please chime in and let me know your thoughts and experiences with not only from the Apathist point of view but also from the those that are most impacted by it (how did it make you feel, how did you cope, how)

Thanks for listening.

Read More

Essay: What to do with that Elephant standing in front of you

On top of getting five of my prints into the Photo Exhibit at the State Fair this year, I was honored to be invited by the Director of the Photography Exhibit to give a series of photography presentations as well. This was a blessing and a nightmare wrapped into one nicely coiled package the size of an elephant.

Many years ago a co-worker of mine used to put a little saying in his email footer; “You can only eat an elephant one bite at a time”. I didn't like him much, but his email footer stuck with me. It was a different way of saying the journey of a thousand miles starts with the first step, but the elephant analogy has always had a stronger frame of reference for me maybe because I love food so much.

For me elephant analogy was the realization that even though the elephant would still be there tomorrow it would have one less bite remaining on it after today.

Have you ever committed to something that is bigger than your capabilities? How about two times bigger? Or even three times bigger? What about ten times bigger? Let me tell you something about how big that size of a commitment is. It is not like ordering a meal that is bigger than your stomach’s capacity; you know the whole my eyes were bigger than my stomach thing as everyone has experienced at a Thanksgiving or two. The thing is that with the too-big-of-a meal, you can eat a little at a time and put the remainder in the refrigerator to save for a later meal. 

Another thing about a commitment is that a commitment usually comes with deadlines. It’s like adding the Ole 96er scenario to the mix. In the Ole 96er scenario you have one hour to eat a meal that way too big, a 96oz steak (six pounds) and all of fixings; baked potato, vegetable and bread. If you succeed within the hour you get a t-shirt, a hat, rounds of applause and your meal comped, as well as everyone else’s meal at your table is free.

But if you fail, you’re so full it hurts, you gained 5 pounds and you now have to pay $60 for the steak dinner top off the fact that everyone else has to pay for their meal now as well. The main issue with the Ole 96er scenario is that your stomach has the normal capacity to hold maybe 32oz of the steak (that is two pounds of yummy steak goodness) before being stretched to maximum capacity and you die; well at least wish you were dead.

Talk about a challenge.

I did that exact thing with my commitment in July, only it wasn’t a tiny 96oz ounce steak. It was an elephant sized task with an August 29th deliverable, which would prove to be a challenge for a healthy person. I committed myself to hosting and presenting a series of photography workshops and presentations at the Oregon State Fair this year. In using the term series, I am stating that there are a total of 21 workshops, 12 of which are unique, that needed to be planned, put together and ready for one and two hour long presentations. This is 35 days to prepare 12 unique presentations (30 totals hours).

This was a huge task, but adding to the stress of that task is my full time day job, family needs and fibromyalgia symptoms that are not even close to being under control. I sat and looked at what I had in front of me: A true mission impossible; an elephant needing to be eaten.

So what do you do when you have five weeks to plan 30 hours of presentations that can spell success or failure for your professional life and reputation? What does a person do with that size of an elephant? Well you don’t try to eat that elephant all by yourself do you? Especially not if you have a deadline that is rapidly approaching.

You can either walk away from the elephant and cut your loses or you can call on some friends to have an old fashioned BBQ.

And BBQ is what I did.

I contacted all of the photographers in my photography group and opened the opportunity to them to co-present at the fair with me. I turned that elephant into a group event, an opportunity for everyone and the group jumped on the opportunity with a passion that equaled mine. I ended up with five presenters each planning their own presentations, including myself, and dozens of helpers to make banners, business cards and covering just about every aspect of the presentations that we needed.

It was still a stressful undertaking with now having to coordinate 18 people on top of planning my presentations, but coordinating only added a couple of bites of the elephant each day. While coordinating the people was a couple of additional bites for me each day, each of those 18 people took five bites off that elephant each day. As each one of them took it upon themselves to complete a task and start the next the elephant started disappearing rapidly.

The BBQ, as it turned out, was a great idea. I was now getting 18 times the work done with less than 1/3 the effort and this allowed me to focus on the bites of the elephant I needed to eat; my presentations and coordinating with the Exhibit Director.  

Yesterday was the first day of presentations, eight presentations, each an hour long, and each presentation was perfectly planned and executed by myself and two other presenters. Sure I might have said something or explained something differently in other's presentations, but I was simply happy that it was the success it was and I am not really a control freak.

Had I not had the help from my friends, it would have been a complete disaster. And while we still have 20 hours of presentations to give for the remainder of the week, I have no doubt that each and every one of us will contribute to the success of those remaining bites of the elephant.

In the end, the elephant is nearly gone now, and nothing is going to waste. I have learned that yes, you can eat an elephant one bite at a time, if you are given enough time. If you don’t have enough time to go it alone, you can always have a BBQ and invite your friends over to help. And everyone loves a good BBQ.

So the next time you are facing an elephant don’t fret over its overwhelming size; light the charcoal and invite your friends over. That Elephant will be gone in no time. Offering free beer to help wash that elephant down isn’t a bad idea either. 

Read More

Anti-Venting

This is my attempt to vent. For those that are so tired of long posts, I can sum it up with this single statement: Try finding what it is that you aren’t tired of and go do it.

1. I am so tired of waking up every morning to a loving wife ready to greet me.
2. I am so tired of having job that helps me afford a roof over my head and place food on the table.
3. I am so tired of having hobbies and interests that provide relief from the drama of life.
4. I am so tired of being able to give of myself to others in an attempt to make my world a better place.
5. I am so tired of not having to beg for life’s basic necessities.
6. I am so tired of people who value what I contribute to their lives.
7. I am so tired of my dog loving me unconditionally regardless of the mood I am in.
8. I am so tired of the sun rising and setting every morning providing me beautiful skies to look at.
9. I am so tired of people enjoying my company.
10. I am so tired of having so much information at my fingertips on the internet.
11. But most of all, I am so tired of having the freedom to make my choices to improve my world, not just for me, but for those around me.

Hopefully the sarcasm is received and appreciated. If not here is a photo to make you feel better about it all.

Read More

Essay: Once Upon A Time, Not So Long Ago

Many of my writing are well received by some. And I will be honest, I feel good about that. I feel good that my own self analysis might have inspired some self analysis for others. This was not the main purpose of these writings, but was rather a unintended side effect.

But, there was a cost as well. I am a science buff and know a lot about the laws of science, and Newton's laws of motion really to play into this.

• First Law: An object at rest tends to stay at rest, or if it is in motion tends to stay in motion with the same speed and in the same direction, unless acted upon by a sum of physical forces.
• Second Law: A body will accelerate with acceleration proportional to the force and inversely proportional to the mass.
• Third Law: Every action has a reaction equal in magnitude and opposite in direction.

So when a t-ball is sitting on the post, it will not move until struck by the bat (first law). When the bat strikes the ball, the ball will accelerate in proportion to the energy and direction of the bat (second law). When the bat strikes the ball, the ball reacts, but so does the bat through vibrations, sometimes painful, moving down the bat and into the hands and arms of the person holding the bat (third law).

Much in the same way, my writings (first law action), although personal and directed at me, had a positive impact on some (second law result), but also had a negative impact on others (third law reaction). This caused some to react to me in a negative way. And these negative reactions may have had a positive impact on those reacting, but the impact of their response was not positive for me (third law all over again).

This caused me to rethink what a community was for. What do I need to get from a community and how can I fulfill my other needs for creativity and self-analysis? So I read the About Us link at the bottom of the home page for the community and one sentence stuck with me; "We're committed to providing patients with access to the tools, information, and experiences that they need to take control of their disease".

So where does this leave my need to write to self-analyze? This site does not have this tool, and probably rightfully so, as there are many tools already available to do this. So I moved my personal analysis stuff to a blog. I write about my feelings as I deal with this. And while this may have taken something positive away from others, it is not that it is gone, but rather that it is moved and its new location is not a secret. But I have removed the negativity for others as those that don't like me, for whatever reason, won't take the time to look up my blogs from my profile because they don't like me.

I understand that many, including I, have made friends in the community and that is great, but there is also a downside to that (remember the third law), creation of friends also result in the creation of enemies or maybe non-friends if enemy is too tough of a word. By aligning ourselves with someone, if they or you take offense or a stance against someone or something that has happened in the community forums, you run the risk of exposing your underbelly to the friends or supporters of the person or act: Therefore increasing tensions and making life uncomfortable.

I don't play the blame game. I don't care who threw the first stone, because I firmly believe it is the person that is first to put the stones down that is the better person. I am not perfect, as I have been known to lug a stone or two to the very end of a battle, but I am trying to learn from those mistakes.

I don't post much here anymore for two reasons, first because I have been extremely busy with improving my un-digital life, and have been very successful, but also because I don't have a lot of time to research this disease and therefore having nothing positive to contribute to what I believe the community is about.

I strongly believe that we all have a lot to learn about not only this disease, but in living, coping, and teaching others about this disease. We can learn through other's informational findings, shared experiences and even through off-topic conversations, but we will only get from it what we give to it. We waste so much time wasting away in the negative aspects of this community, which is like all other communities in not only the online world, but the real world as well.

We all have different political, religious and social beliefs, and these beliefs are what define us. For some the perfect medicine is humor, while for others it is knowledge. The word hyper-vigilant keeps getting mentioned a lot throughout the world, but hyper-vigilance is simply a more politically correct way of saying overly sensitive, but we don't say that because people are over sensitive to be called over sensitive. See the circle I just ran there? It is a vicious one to say the least.

Smile and nod is not a way to live life, but being over sensitive to everything is no way to live either. By simply understand the tools you have before you is enough to better understand what tool is the right tool for the job. You wouldn't drive a nail into oak with a router. No you would find a hammer or at least something that was hammer-like. You wouldn't go to sex-offender registrar looking to find a date or at least I hope you wouldn't. You would go to dating site, church, bar, bowling alley or strip club for that; maybe.

So why treat a site trying to provide a tool for people suffering from a medical condition like some kind of social site. If you want to get in fights with someone, go buy a video game like Call of Duty. You will find that killing people virtually (in a video game, not real life) is much more satisfying than making someone who is already in pain hurt more. If you are looking to express yourself creatively, start a blog. If you are looking to increase your own pain and suffering, go drive a car into a tree (not recommended by the way).

But if you want to be understood for the medical condition you have and to be comforted and consoled as well as comfort and console others, as well as learn more about your disease and some of the treatment options available this place could be the place for you.

We need to stop trying to make it a one-stop shop for everything under the sun. The community is a great router that allows you to carve out the knowledge we all crave, but we have to stop trying to use it as a wrench, crutch and hammer. Hopefully this essay won't generate the anger and resentment a few previous ones did, but how other chose to react, that isn't my choice.

Read More

The Positive List - Advise and A Challenge

Your day may be the crappiest day ever, but at least one good thing happens to all of us each and every day. The challenge, which if we try it will reap rewards for us in the future, is to identify the one positive thing that happens each day. Before I get going here, let me talk a little bit about positive and negative thinking.

To a little about this, I will be borrowing from the books The Power of Positive Thinking and Think and Grow Rich to help make my points. The first thing that I would like to say is that focusing on the negative things in life is easy, hence it's a common thing for all creatures on this beautiful planet, not just humans and not just you. Consider this; a dog that spends its first two years in a negative, abusive environment will carry that negativity with it for the remainder of its short life. But people can choose to not let the negative influence them beyond a given moment, hour, month, year or decade that the negativity occurs in. And this is what truly separates us from the animals. It is these people that you hear rags to riches stories from and have "Based on True Events" movies and books created to tell their story.

Being positive or negative are habits of thought that have a very strong influences on life for not only you, but those you interact with at any given time, even if that interaction was but for a moment. The hardest part about these habits, as with any habit, is they can be hard to change. But all change starts with the first step and then another and then another.

With all of the negativity around us, especially for those of us dealing with chronic pain and fatigue, positive change can be particularly challenging, but not impossible. For those experiencing chronic fatigue and pain every single negative things that happens to us can take ten positive things to counter that negative. And while this particular exercise is not going to be a cure all, it is a first, and ultimately important step to changing the way our minds prioritize positive over negative events. 

Are you ready for a change? 

Positive and negative are opposing forces. And with opposing forces they repel each other. So we are given a choice, do we go one way, with the flow negativity or do we go the other way? The decision is simple when choosing between positive and negative. Your decision must be based on the answer to the following question.

Do the rewards of choosing one way out weight the consequences?

In other words, does choosing the negative provide you more reward than consequence. Many times this question, while simple, can be very difficult to answer. As it can seem very rewarding to flow with the negative, but it is always also the easier way to go as it takes less work, even though is consumes more energy. If it's easy to do, it isn't likely worth doing.

I know that it can be hard to be positive in a time when pain levels are through the roof, fatigue is constantly wearing us down while flares seem to be never ending and Fibro-Flatulance (Fibro-Fog) has us and those around looking for the person we once were. But, think of this as therapy for the negative-ninny in all of us.

This is not a reward in the sense that after you write your daily positive reflections you will suddenly feel better, although there can be some therapy, the real value is that as you can see things from a different perspective, a positive perspective, your can begin reprogramming your brain. I challenge you to try this. Once a day, everyday, add one positive thing that happened with your day; everyday.

Reality is the mirror of your thoughts. Choose well what you put in front of the mirror because while a positive attitude brings strength, energy and initiative the negative attitude weakens us spiritually, mentally and physically and consumes energy at an exponential rate as compared to positive thinking and reduces our initiative to nothing more than a failed dream.

Over time you will train your mind to think in terms of 'possible' and 'can be done'. To do this you need to know your limitations. Your limitations are used not as a negative, but as a measure to set your goals by. Are you dissatisfied with yourself because you cannot run as fast as an Olympian? The answer should be a resounding "No". Why, because an Olympian has been training their whole life to be an Olympian and you have not, therefore it is unreasonable to expect that you could compete with an Olympian in a race. This does not mean you cannot start training to be an Olympian, but you have to know your limitations, even in your training to be an Olympian, if you are going to be successful.

For those of us suffering from chronic pain and fatigue, we cannot do everything we used to, much like those who are bound to a wheelchair. Christopher Reeves is a great example. After his accident, which set the rest of his life in motion as a quadriplegic, Mr. Reeves chose to focus on not the what he couldn't do, but what he was able to do moving forward. While he would not be able to star as Superman again, he was able to star in a Superman television show called Smallville. He was also in a couple of other television shows; The Practice and Rear Window. He also produced, directed and wrote for several shows. He also, and most importantly, founded the Christopher Reeves Foundation and used his celebrity to get funding to research spinal chord injuries.

None of this was easy. Everything he accomplished was done with a severe limitation. All of this was accomplished by a man that was permanently bound to a wheel chair without the use of his body below his neck. Mr. Reeves was able to achieve all of this because he refused to focus on the negative side of his new limitations, but rather he focused on what he could do within his limitations and he executed on it. His limitations did not defeat him.

We are no different from someone like Christopher Reeves, except in our thinking . We have a finite amount of energy, mental capacity and strength that is allotted to us each and every day. And each day the amount of energy, mental capacity and strength varies; sometimes more and sometimes less. So each day we have to set attainable goals that are within our limitations for that day and we must execute on those goals. It is through this method that we will not overcome chronic pain and fatigue, but succeed in spite of it. Let me say that again; It is through positive thinking, realistic goal setting and execution of those goals that we will not overcome chronic pain and fatigue, but succeed in spite of it.

Again, this is not meant to be the cure all for dealing with fatigue and pain, but rather one step in the right direction that will have to be followed by a another step in the same direction, followed by another. Bad days will happen. I am actually having one right now. Bad days happen. They have happened. They could be happening now. They will happen in the future. Venting about bad days is important as it allows us to hear compassion from another person and this is therapeutic, even if it is through an otherwise impersonal medium like a social media support group. I am not suggesting that you stop doing that. There is benefit to it. But you need to balance that negativity expression with an expression of gratitude and acknowledge the positive things in your life, daily.

So are you game to add a little positive to your world and the world of others around you?

I will start:

Today I discovered my daughter is doing well in school and my wife is healthy.

Read More

I Have A Problem

Yes, I said it.

And I will say it again.

I have a problem.

Okay I have many problems, I will admit that. But I want to talk about one problem specifically; my inability to just participate.

I am someone who is looking for something. I am looking for something that I can belong to, be a part of. Something I can enjoy. Something I that can be a part of my life, but not consume it. Something that doesn't come with a shit ton of politics, drama or outright bullshit. Two things I cannot handle... boredom and drama.

But I don't want to lead.

Boredom for me is defined as, "not learning". This is why I have learned to play two musical instruments, computer science, photography, drawing, painting, writing, gaming, poetry, podcasting, and so much more. Self taught, and not great at any of it, but good enough. And "good enough" means, I get bored with it or burned out before I have a chance to become great at it.

Drama for me is anything where things just go horribly wrong and always involves people and their egos.

Let me give you a little backstory.

Back in 2008 I was trying to learn photography. I joined a local newly formed photography club to engage with others who were looking to do the same thing; learn about photography and go out and photograph things. A few months later, the leader of the club left due to some long term family medical circumstances and I was thrust into a leadership role, which I accepted because at the time, the club would have dissolved entirely otherwise. But, I didn't want to lead this club of 30 plus members on my own so I recruited a few other members to help with various logistics; treasury, member management, website and other various aspects of running a club.

Fast forward a few years; I have learned just about everything I can about photography, so I am bored. My creativity is tanking so I am not engaged. And, I am burned out since running an organization that has over 100 members, who all have lots of criticisms and put forth very little effort in helping make the club successful, makes for a lot of drama. Many of the other leaders had already left the group, silently slipping out.

There was a lot more drama than just complaints, lackluster leadership and lack of participation by club members. There were times where individuals came in tried to take over and turn the club into their personal payroll machine.

Friendships were hurt and people still hold grudges to this day.

So, having reached the end of my rope, I handed off my duties to others, stepped down from the club's leadership and walked away from the club. I picked up drawing again, rediscovered a love of comics and began the downward spiral into engaging with the geek community.

I know... I used the term "downward spiral". There's a reason for that.

I made some friends quickly, joined a group, started attending meetings and then was asked to take over the scheduling of meetings. And, because I valued what I was getting from the meetings, I agreed. On the surface, the group was great. People excited similar things; talking about movies, comics and figures and delving into theoretical conversation.

But, the leader of the group, who I shall call Holdenburger, was all but absent. He would chime in on the group's facebook page with quips like, "I love this group!" or "This is the best geek group around".

About the only time he wasn't absent was when it came time to take credit.

Holdenburger decided after someone else held the first comic con in our hometown that he could put on a better event and better yet, he could get people to do it for free and even better yet he could get others to pay for the event.

And he set his mind on doing just that.

I was asked to be a part of the super secret committee. Holdenburger liked my writing and wanted my help writing documents for him, like solicitation to vendors, celebrity guests and the like. And even though I didn't agree with the motivation for doing the event, I agreed initially, simply because I wanted to see community get more good things happening for it.

Then, around Christmas time, the first con ran into some problems. And as it turned out, another member of the secret planning committee for Holdenburger's con, actually had something to do with a terrible story going public, (he actually called the local news station and reported it). Suddenly our community was up in arms about reports of vendor's being ripped off, refunds being denied, etc. All sorts of hell broke loose. In the end, the other con was saved by being sold.

When the original con sold and was reported to be moving ahead under new leadership; this is when things turned dark for Holdenburger.

He began getting angry about the other con, and telling people that the con was sold to corporate beast from California. And while yes, the con was purchased by a corporation that was based in California, the fact remained that the man who owned the "corporation" lived in our hometown and wasn't the corporate beast Holdenburger painted it out to be.

Now during this time, I had been listening to a lot of Podcasts and was toying with the idea of doing a podcast. After leaving the photography club I needed another creative outlet.

I even did a two episode stint on Holdenburger's cable access show. That ended up being a horrifying experience. It started when he asked me what I thought of doing a television show and I liked the idea. So I worked with him to co-create the format of the show, the initial concepts, developed the recording schedule and so on. He wanted to do interviews with local artists, collectors, etc. I wanted to talk about geeky events and places locally.

So I co-created a part of it and I was the co-host for episodes 1 and 2... my only stipulations going into the creative partnership was that I didn't want it to be part of the brand for Holdenburger comic con event and that I could talk about local businesses, products and events; including other cons. I wanted it to be our thing and I made that clear.

But in the end, it didn't work out.

Episodes 1 and 2 were fiascoes for me. Public Access doesn't allow shows talking about businesses and the services they offer. And Holdenburger demanded the show be branded after his comic con. .

But it wasn't until he did an interview with the local paper that Holdenburger showed his true colors. He talked about his event, his show and his "group", the comics fan group that many others were running, scheduling meetings for, etc. He claimed he was solely responsible for the success of everything. It was at this time that I removed myself completely from his group as well and closed that door forever.

Now we are back to the present.

So following the recording of episodes 1 and 2, I walked away from "his" show and "his" con and looked into developing a podcast that was branded with the tag line, "Sponsored by nobody, free to talk about everybody"

I talked with a "new" friend about this podcasting concept, he said he was interested and we took off and did our own thing. We developed it together, we executed it together, we grew it together. We were invited to record at the con that was "saved". We interviewed celebrities, talked with local businesses about awesome things they had planned and we talked with local artists. The podcast wasn't branded to tie in with anything else. The podcast was never about making money. We kept it positive, we kept it fun. It was ours... and it was good.

Life was good.

But then... I started offering to help... so many others.

When you look at the underbelly of society, you see the darkness that hides under the belly of the beast. The exposed nature of this beast's underbelly is ugly. Petty rivalries (both secret and public), rabid snarkiness towards one another, insecurities, covert ops, secrets, spies, illnesses (and not colds and allergies, I am talking alcoholism, public intoxication, etc.) hatred and really, just plain ugliness.

I loved podcasting. I loved meeting the people I met. I loved hearing the awesome tales from the Geekdom. I loved engaging with so many talented and giving people. And most of all, I love the friends I have made. But the underbelly of the beast took a toll on me and I have completely withdrawn from the community as a whole for the most part.

So why am I so sensitive to ugly in the world?

I regularly take the Briggs Myers personality test. I like understand who I am, why I do the things I do and how to avoid the pain that life brings. I every time I test I find that I am an INFJ, not just in overall definition, but deep into the detailed definition of an INFJ, that is who I am. And I mean, my results have never been anything but INFJ

So what is an INFJ?

An INFJ experiences the world internally, via intuition. INFJs are gentle, caring, complex and highly intuitive individuals. Artistic and creative, they live in a world of hidden meanings and possibilities. INFJs tend to see helping others as their purpose in life, but while people with this personality type can be found engaging rescue efforts and doing charity work, their real passion is to get to the heart of the issue so that people need not be rescued at all. The passion of their convictions is perfectly capable of carrying an INFJ past their breaking point and if their "drive to help" gets out of hand, they can find themselves exhausted, unhealthy and stressed.

And that is where the problem lies.

I wanted to help others succeed. I engage to the point that the ugly side of the culture becomes overwhelming. Time and time again, I engage to a level that I get exhausted, start feeling unhealthy (both physically and mentally) and I get stressed. And when this happens, my sensitivity forces me to do everything they can to evade these situations. And if the circumstances are unavoidable, I can fight back in highly irrational, unhelpful ways, like just about every INFJ does. But rather than lash out, I typically withdraw, isolate myself from everyone and everything including my wife.

When this happens it feels a lot like depression. The things I loved before loss all of my interest.

And, in the end, that's my ongoing problem: I can't just participate.

I can't just attend something. I am a person that wants to offer to help; not because I was raised that way, but because I am compelled to. I know what it takes to organize an event for a community. I know the amount work and energy that goes into things like this. I so deeply want things to succeed, so I offer to help... even if I already purchased tickets to the event. But that level of engagement seems to open doors that aren't in the best interest of my health.

So I inevitably withdraw.

I withdraw from helping at my local comic con.
I withdraw from helping at my local comic shop.
I withdraw from my podcast.
I withdraw from my job.
I withdraw from my friends.
I withdraw from my family.

I sit in my room day after day, remaining exhausted from something that happened months ago, or even a year ago. I don't talk to anyone unless it is absolutely unavoidable. I am trying my damnedest to just let go of the things that wiped me out, yet I can't.

Call me a fair-weather friend, unreliable or whatever it is that makes you feel better about me. It's easy to read my withdrawl as "I don't care", but nothing could be farther from the truth. The problem is,I do care, immensely.

And here I sit today, pondering my future with communities I still love. Pondering my need to just participate against my hardwired compulsion to help. I don't know if I will ever be able to find a balance. Where do I go from here. Do I re-establish some ground rules for myself with others, or do I just walk away assuming others won't understand or accept my "new" rules for engagement?

Can you make a dog stop being a dog?

So if you are wondering where I have been for so long; why I haven't posted any new photos, drawn any new pictures, written any comic reviews in so long, or recorded any new episodes of the podcast or even come into your shop... you can rest assured, I am sitting at home, bored out of my freak'n mind half the time and driving my poor wife nuts the other half of the time; trying to figure out what's next.

Read More

Please Don't

Please don't.

I decided to make this a little more personal, more personal than I am comfortable with.

I grew up in a blue collar household in a blue collar town. I have never met my biological father. My mom married an alcoholic, womanizing abusive man when I was five. I refer to him has my anti-role model; my father-figure, not my father or dad. She married him out of fear of being unable to make it by herself raising a son. For eleven years I lived in those conditions, the first four of which I was the only child. As a result, I lived in a household that modeled for me everything I never wanted from life; fear, anger, animosity... loathing.

I was an intelligent boy that has spent most of his life (adolescent and adult) un-diagnosed and untreated, but living with ADHD. This means I did well in school, but only when the subject and teacher teaching classes were interesting. If either, and especially when both, were not interesting, I did not do well and was usually in trouble. I am sure that you can guess which side of that fence I fell on most of the time... I will even give you two chances.

My house was a house of discipline. Switching’s, spankings, outright beatings, kneeling on mung beans for hours and groundings... the sheer volume and duration of groundings. Groundings in my house consisted of the following; I was remanded to my room for the duration of the grounding with the following exceptions; bathroom and hygein needs, meal time, school (if it wasn't summer time) and church. I spent a lot of time alone reading and listening to music. That was until my mom learned out how much I loved music; then she grounded me from my music as well. And no, it was not the first nor was it the last time my mom would use the things I loved as a weapon against me.

I was, for the most part, the smallest person in my class. A late bloomer and became quiet over time. Do you know what late blooming and quietness have in common? Bullying. Unrelenting, never ending bullying, from upper class-men, lower class-men and everyone in between. Ever after my freshman year, when I spouted in a big way, to 6'4", those that bullied me when I was smaller than them felt they now had to prove themselves against one of the tallest ("Biggest") guys in the school.

My mom and father-figure divorced at the end of my junior year and at the end of my senior year, my mom married our former next door neighbor; the guy who was married with three kids of his own that had lived two houses down from us when my mom and father-figure were married. Long story there, and definitely a story for another time.

In school, I excelled at arts, but not art as in drawing, painting or writing as I was told by a teacher, in no certain terms early on that I had no talent in drawing, painting or writing. But rather, I excelled at performance arts; music and drama. It was rare that my grades in those classes were under an A, and usually I only got less than a A in those classes when the final was a solo performance; I didn't do well performing by myself in front of others. Sadly, our education system understood that I was a fish, (arts) yet still measured my success by how well I climbed trees (math, science, literature).

I graduated from high school at the age of seventeen and was off to boot camp three weeks later; My eighteenth birthday was spent performing physical tests for the entry into the Navy Seals... and no I did not pass... I failed the running portion of the test; never had a rhythm for running.  I learned a lot in the military. I learned that bully was going to be a lifelong experience. I also learned that I have problems with authority. That last bit may not be the best combination; problems with authority and serving in the military. But I survived. I took the four year retirement plan; all the freedom and none of the monetary benefits.

After I left the military I bounced from many odd jobs until I bought my first computer. Three months after I purchased my first computer I landed a job a Hewlett Packard repairing printers. A year later I got a different job in HP. A year later I took my third job; one that I stuck with for the next eight years; application and database programmer. The main reason I stuck with that job was the fact that my manager at the time understood me. He understood what drove me. He knew how to challenge me. He knew how to get the best from me. And he did; time and again.

During that time I had two daughters come into the world and eventually, near the end of my time at HP, ended up divorcing their mom after four years of marriage.

I moved to Salem in 2006. I co-founded the Salem Digital Photo Group in 2008, a local photography club that teaches others how to get more out of their cameras and gives back to the community; for a low annual membership of $24 per household.

I have volunteered at two animal shelters; doing laundry, cleaning/sanitizing pens, walking/socializing the animals and even photographing the animals for their websites.
I have even volunteered at my local comic book shop and comic cons.

I had a podcast for nearly two years that promoted local geek culture and promoted local businesses doing awesome things for the geeky community.

This is an abbreviated version of my life. I have spared the naked, ugly details. But rather wanted to paint a picture of Who I am today.

So who am I?

• I am quiet when I am unfamiliar.
• I am unfiltered when I am nervous.
• I take command when I have to; even if I am uncomfortable.
• It takes me days to recoup when I spend more spoons than I have. Some of you look perplexed by my reference to spoons. I assure you it has nothing to do with the Matrix. Look up The Spoon Theory by Christine Miserandino if you are interested in knowing more.
• I love my wife and kids.
• I am worn out by social interactions, even if the interactions are with friends, family or people I otherwise care about; but especially if it is with people I do not know.
• I give as much as I can, and more times than not I give more than I should.
• I am a loner for the most part, having my own room in my house.
• I create.
• My children do not fear me.
• I am protective of myself.
• I have panic attacks, even if everything looks fine on the surface; but my wife knows when it is happening, she always knows.
• I have an extensive record collection; 885 albums to date.
• I have PTSD as a result of violence committed against me throughout my life.
• I have a wife, going on thirteen years and her love and support means more to me that anything else in the world.
• I have OCD with numbers; counting (with a preference to odd numbers) and conversion to digital root. This shows up in my art, a lot, and no, I am not a numerologist.
• I have a wicked and twisted sense of humor that most find offensive, so I typically keep to myself.
• I take very little serious; life is too short.
• English is my second language, sarcasm being my first.

So why did I title this please don't?

Because that is my ask of you.

Please don't feel bad for me. Many people have had it so much worse than I. My sister was born into a home filled with fear, anger, animosity... loathing. She suffered in that environment much longer than I did.

Please don't thank me for my military service. I joined to escape. To escape my family, my home town, the bullies. I did it for selfish reasons. Joining the military saved me. I don't deserve your thanks for a selfish act. And I left the military for the exact same reason; to escape.

Please don't congratulate for a job well done. This is what I am paid to do. There are literally 1000 different things I would rather be doing right now, but they don’t keep a roof over my family’s head or food on the table. If I am not doing my job well, I probably don't deserve my paycheck.

Please don't thank me for giving back. If I didn't give back to my community, I might not be here today. Helping others saved my life; so, again, I don't deserve your thanks.

Please don't ask about pains in my past. I spend enough time dealing with them in my head and I would rather spend my time with you in a positive realm.

Please don't be afraid. Talk with me about the things I love; music, horror movies, comic books, Calvin and Hobbes, my wife's inability to fail in the kitchen, my love of dogs, my creating. Sorry folks, I don't do sports.

Please don't be afraid to ask about my disability. I am not sensitive to it in any way shape or form. If you read up on Spoon Theory, you will gain some insight, but I am always willing to share with those interested in knowing more.

Most importantly:
Please don't be anything other than your authentic self with me. After everything I have been through in this life, I am pretty sure I can handle anything you bring to the table. :)

Read More

Welcome to the Jungles of My Mind

A place to write.

A place to publish.

A place to think.

A place to share.

A place.

Read More