My head is spinning while my sleep is disappearing these
days. Home is where I feel safe, mostly. Right now I feel forced into this
fish-tank and afraid of the world outside. How do I explain to my daughter that
the most powerful man in the country is on the verge of destroying the world?
How do I tell her that the animals, landscapes and climate are collapsing? That
people all around the world are in need of dire help due to climate change? And
that said powerful man doesn’t believe it’s actually happening. How do I
explain hope of the future? How do I explain lies of the past? I can’t tell
her, she’s not yet three. Human nature is something one hopes to speak of in a
positive light to their child. I love her so much. She deserves more than this
scary world and I’ll be damned if I sit on the sidelines saying I did nothing
to change it. To Be Continued …
Battle of a PTSD Mind
Tuesday, September 26, 2017
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Epiphany
Nearly three months
since my last post and I am much, much farther ahead than I thought I could be.
I’ve dabbled in art and am currently
working on a few pieces for a friend’s gallery. Although my work is quite
amateur and I view it as a fun project rather than a means to any sort of
monetary gain. My true focus since my last post has been about self-development
through joy. Finding happiness amongst a sea of misunderstood thoughts is no
easy feat. Surely I have work to do, but I know that bliss is a continuum. One
must accept it and remember it in order to truly harness its power.
I’ll share my epiphany,
but first I want to explain how it came to fruition. Honestly, there are many
things and people who have aided in this discovery and listing all of them will
surely interrupt my train of thought and possibly bore you, so I’ll keep the
time lapse current. This week I had the honor of attending a live recording on
Minnesota Public Radio (MPR) covering the topic: A Beautiful World, The Gift of
Failure. A friend, and blog reader, invited me to the sold out show and it
turned out to be the best gift and I have ever
received. A Beautiful
World was a 90-minute pilot program performed in front of a live audience, “in
a faced-paced, mixed-media format with storytellers and newsmakers adventuring
and finding solutions in today’s complicated world” MPR. Guests of the show included
Dessa, a very well known and respected spoken word artist and musician, and
bestselling author Sarah Lewis, who discussed her recently published book: The
Rise: Creativity, the Gift of Failure, and the Search for Mastery. Throughout
this mixed-media exploration I kept hearing a familiar echo: failure isn’t the
end, it’s a means to discovery.
What if all our
failures are stones paving the way to our destiny? If you believe in destiny,
as I do, you know that it’s not a destination but a home where everything comes
together to create harmony. Harmony within ourselves that where we have been
and where we are going are only as important as where we are now. After the MPR
event I couldn’t put this to rest. Thoughts of my not so privileged life, law
school, and the time I dedicated to the military have always felt as failures
or lost love and hope. Yet when I think of what I learned from each undertaking
the same thing keeps repeating, compassion and empathy. During each event I
struggled because I felt so deeply that I let hurt over power love. I guess I
always figured people are relatively wired the same way. We all have hope,
faith, honor, compassion, courage, empathy, etc. While that might be so, we
don’t all share the deep power of each, we feel some more powerful than others.
I had so much hurt in my heart because of my intensely empathetic personality
that I let it drive me. Why it’s taken me 33 years to figure this out is a thought
I need to ignore. Accepting this as a freshly paved road is my epiphany.
As a child I had endless love and empathy in my heart but no
place to grasp it from. I saw love in my dad and grandfathers heart, but the
hate in my birth mothers subjugated any love around me. Striving to obtain a law
degree pushed me into a dark place where all I saw was greed. I envisioned
working in environmental law or family court where I could really make a
difference in the world. Rather than learning the tools to help people, I saw
sadness and a greedy overcast. I wasn’t able to see past the hurt people throw
at each other to gain unnecessary commodities. The pride and sense of belonging
I gained in the military became something out of a fairytale book after having
gone to war. I was a stranger in a place I no longer belonged and felt shame
and confusion where pride once was. The gift of my military career coming to an
end was the awakening of my empathetic nature. I mean, it was my empathy that
tore apart the seams of my military career. I was ostracized because of my
PTSD, but also because of my strong empathic nature, which was strongly frowned
upon in the military culture.
Each of these events
revealed darkness and lured me to act in punitive ways. While I’ve been on the road to overcome, I
couldn’t see past it. The reason is the same as being unable to see past our
failures. If we can’t find the good, we only see the bad. Throughout all this
time I never reflected on “why” this all kept me from stepping out of the
darkness or seeing past my failures. Now that I’ve dissected the “why” the
picture is clear. I’ve felt like a stranger in my own mind because I let the
pain of the world drive me. If we view our failures as a product of who we are,
rather than as tools to see a clearer picture, we’ll be stuck. Understanding
all this and being able to use it as a strategy to move forward is the key to
it all. The epiphany is that I realized I was stuck in the darkness and now
know the road ahead is filled with love and empathy. My experiences didn’t encourage
my empathetic and compassionate nature, but they taught me to truly harness
them as a definition of who I really am.
The past, present,
and future have never felt so beautiful.
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
Moving on
A lot has happened in the past month, but I’m going to make
this brief.
The Journey’s program didn’t work out. I got the boot
because I was “too busy”. Still, the knowledge I gained in the program was
worth all the effort. The main principle I learned is: Something happened that
changed who I was, searching to get that person back is only going to waste my
precious time.
Realizing I’ll never be that person again was hard to
understand. Then an elephant jumped off my shoulders when I started to
understand the new me and began learning the tools to adjust. I question if
I’ll continue to climb similar hills and hope that what I learn reduces how
much sweat I drop while climbing.
Best of all, I feel Free. I am home and am ready to move on
with my life. I started up graduate
courses again and for the first time have the opportunity to focus on school
without having to also focus on work. I feel truly blessed. I have endless
things to be thankful for. Reminding myself this everyday is the key to my
bliss and I hope to always keep it close to my heart.
I am working on a book and am leaning toward calling it a memoir.
The focus will be my life as a Soldier and the objective is to give others
hope. Whether a homeless teen or veteran, I hope that what I have to say helps
someone, even if just a little. No idea “when” it will get published but I’ll
be sure all of my blog readers get a copy ;-)
My posts on here will be limited as I focus on school and
the book. Please feel free to contact me anytime. Never forget to love and give
because it is the essence of life.
Peace.Love.Unity.Respect - oh yes I did ;)
Monday, January 13, 2014
Never Stop Dancing
Today marks the halfway point of my 12-week
PTSD/trauma focused program. I’ve written less in my blog than I’d prefer but
my mind has been everywhere else. The tools and skills I’ve learned cannot be
measured. The one thing that sticks out the most is avoidance. I can’t count
the times I nearly quit the program. Not because I thought it was too hard, but
because I was afraid to face what I couldn’t see. Funny thing is, the more I
stopped avoiding, the less afraid and more confident I’ve become.
Last Friday I threw my hands in the air
and walked out the door. The struggles I’ve been enduring were weighing me down
so much that I had convinced myself the program was a joke. Thinking that everything
I was learning was just making me worse off and the time and effort was
meaningless. Why go through all this pain just to make the pain worse, I
thought. I mean, I was indeed getting worse and the exhaustion alone was enough
for me to call it quits. All I wanted to do was sleep. Who knew mental work
could be so draining? Wait – law school comes pretty close.
I took the weekend to make up my mind
and consulted with a couple friends. Regardless how many worries I have, none
of them compare to living a life lacking the necessary tools to cope. Today I
went in giving 110 percent. To my surprise, it was the best day I’ve had so
far. Holding back judgments and invalidating thoughts, I began to mend
differences with another group member I thought I would despise to the end.
More significantly, I made it through my trauma exposure exercise and was able
to recall pleasant memories from Iraq. Most notably, the singing and dancing
camel adorned with a military shirt.
This camel has a name but I can’t
recall it now. It’s one of those toys where you push a button on its foot and
it starts dancing and singing. He grooved to Vanilla Ice, “Ice Ice Baby”. He
was shipped to Iraq by my co-worker’s mom. We had him in the office chilling on
top of a bookshelf just outside the boss’s door. Some days the boss would walk
out of the office and push the camel’s foot as he busted a move while exiting
the office. Rarely, he’d yell at us to “shut the damn thing off”. This camel
survived through the harshest of conditions. My co-workers decided to strap the
little guy on the back of an MRAP for a seven-day mission up and down Iraq.
Whenever we stopped at a base someone would run to see if the little guy was
still dancing and singing, he always did. The MRAP suffered some serious
injuries but the little camel never stopped dancing. After the mission he was
completely covered in mud and needed a bath. I fought, whined and argued but lucked
out and ended up taking him home. To this day, he’s still singing and dancing.
He doesn’t have the spunk he once did, but he’s still got it nonetheless.
Though just a stuffed animal, Mr. Camel
never lost hope. Although he’s been through quite a lot and suffered some
pretty bad injuries, he has never given up. Today I pushed his foot while
reminding myself that no matter how beaten and wore down I am, I’ll never stop
dancing.
Love To All,
Jamie
Sunday, January 5, 2014
What Defines You?
These past weeks have been quite challenging and most days
have left me too exhausted to update my blog. I’ve been testing my
psychological limits in every way imaginable by facing past traumas I didn’t
realize were haunting me. My mind has become completely exhausted.
I asked a friend about their experience during war and
whether they suffer from the same symptoms. Their response was no, and their
feedback was that I shouldn’t let PTSD define who I am. Slightly taken back by
this response, I decided to really examine my motivations and whether I am in
fact letting the diagnosis define who I am. I don’t believe I am.
People tend to avoid things that cause them pain. Without
realizing it, this avoidance only deepens the agony. Adopting an avoidant life
allows more avoidance and sooner or later the avoidance defines who you are. Afraid
to face pain because the immediate avoidant relief is easier to handle, will
continue to haunt your soul until it is dealt with. The longer you avoid dealing, the more you’ll
suffer. People can’t find happiness or
move on with their life if a part of their soul is locked away or ignored. If a
part of you is locked away, who are you, really?
I’ve learned that once you deal with your pain you’ll be
able to move past it and have a stronger sense of self than those who elect not
to overcome such adversity. Dealing with your pain increases your
self-confidence and decreases your emotional sensitivity, which expands and
enriches your life. Thus, I don’t feel I’m letting my diagnoses define me, I’m
overcoming the avoidant part of who I am. In doing so I’m climbing the steepest mountain
of my life and am proud that I’m not letting PTSD or “baggage” keep parts of me
hidden, because these parts deserve to thrive.
Love and Happiness,
Jamie
Monday, December 23, 2013
Thinking of you...
The holidays are tough for everyone. They’re especially
tough for those struggling with an estranged family or PTSD, or both.
Brainstorming the best way to reach out to those falling into the above
categories has me searching endlessly for answers. I am by no means an expert
but feel pretty well rounded on the topic and hope what follows helps, even
if just a little.
Finding normalcy takes a really strong person. I’m not
talking about normal, because I reject any sort of label, I’m talking about
your individual normalcy. Your contentment and happiness are the most important
aspects of your life, your normal. With the loaming reminders of what has you feeling melancholy
around the holidays it’s important to reflect on who you are and what makes you
smile. Whether it’s painting a masterpiece or confronting a longtime fear, we
all share a desire to find contentment.
I had a pretty rough day and struggle to find peace. Still,
I can’t let setbacks detour me from who I am or what I’m trying to achieve.
There is no way I’d be here today if I let the small things get in the way of
the big picture. After all, we’re only here for a short time. Who knows what’s
beyond life. We all have our beliefs but none of us “know”, so it seems logical
to embrace the here and now. To love, appreciate the small things, give and
have hope. Is there anything else more important? I don’t believe there is.
While I could list a bunch of sources to seek help, I think
it’s more important to remind you how much you’re loved. Even in your lowest
point, you are always loved. I love you, but I doubt I’m the only one. When we
get down it’s hard to see the light at the end of the dark tunnel. Yet it’s our
responsibility to remain strong and seek help when we need it. Whether you
write, paint or mix records… happiness is in arms reach. If you feel none of
this makes sense, I beg you to reach out to me.
We are just one star in the galaxy. A tiny little planet
struggling to feel connected. What’s ironic is that we all make up the whole of
this planet and each of us are vital to the survival of the future, yet we still
feel so distant from one another. We are all connected. We all share the
present moment in this life. The one thing we tend to overlook is the exact
thing that gives us peace.
I share your smiles and your tears. We all do.
You are never alone. Please reach out to me if you need.
This blog is for you as much as it is for me.
Stay strong and smile. It really is worth it.
Love always,
Jamie
Thursday, December 19, 2013
Thank You
The moment you accept what you’ve tried to avoid, is the
moment you begin to grieve. When you’ve accepted your grief, you begin to see
hope. When you begin to see hope, you can give your heart in its purest form.
Never lose hope and always see love.
I’m truly taken back by the enormous amount of love and
support I’ve received from friends and readers. You inspire me to remember my compassionate
nature. You remind me that I’m not alone, that we are all never alone.
Suffering can blind your soul from love. Yet I believe a person needs to love
in order to live free. Love for yourself and love for everyone else. We all
have strength, but we’re a hell of a lot stronger together.
Thank you for sharing your strength.
Love and happiness,
~Jamie
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