Wednesday, June 3, 2015
Heroes
Heroes
I feel that the world needs to slow down for a minute and think. With social change in many forms swirling around the world, we live in a wonderful time, where communication is instantaneous, where everyone has an opinion, and where people can express their opinion for everyone to hear.
Today, I saw many people who posted or shared on Facebook and other media sites how Caitlyn Jenner isn’t a hero, but rather our soldiers are, and we need to stop treating her with respect. She is undeserving of the title of hero.
First and foremost, I am one of the biggest supporters of our men and women in all branches of the military. I come from a family that have served in the military, my best friend/adopted brother is currently serving as a marine for our country, having served in the conflict in Afghanistan. I support all of the men and women that have lived, and died for the freedom that allows me to write this. And nothing that I am about to say is meant to cheapen their sacrifice. They are heroes to me, every last one of them, men and women that risk everything to help protect the rights and liberties that I enjoy every day. I am the first one to thank them for their service. That being said, it saddened me to see that they were being used to push down another hero.
Why do I say that Caitlyn Jennings is a hero? Is it because she killed terrorists? Because she served out military? No. I am saying that she is a hero to the transgender community. She has done something for the community that they needed. She gave them a public face. She has helped to give a face and a story to a community in our world that has had little voice. Because of the position in our media that she has, she has not only sacrificed her privacy, but had the courage to do so. She has let the world into her struggle, and put the transgender community in the public view, not for a problem or legal issue that they face, which are many. Rather, she has given the public her story, which is similar to the stories of so many other people in her similar situation. She has opened the door for understanding and awareness, something her community has struggled to get. Regardless of how much she makes, she has sacrificed that.
Heroes have always been people willing to sacrifice, people who have shown extraordinary courage. They have stood up for their right, their beliefs, and themselves. Not all heroes have to be soldiers. We would crucify anyone who would post something like that if you switched out Caitlyn Jenner’s picture for say, Rosa Parks, Rosie the Riveter, Barak Obama, Harvey Milk, or any other of dozens of people that have given a voice to their communities. These communities are often bullied, misunderstood, repressed, misrepresented, or scorned. And yet, each of these people, among dozens of others throughout history, has been heroes to their causes.
You would never think to say that the girl who donates her hair to make a wig for someone struggling with cancer is undeserving of being called a hero. Nor would you take the title away from other community members that raise food and items for homeless shelters, rescue abused cats and dogs, stand up against bullies, or elect kids with mental handicaps prom queens and kings. They are heroes too, people who made a difference by reaching out, raising them up, and helping those who struggled. By being different, looking past the outward appearance, and having the courage to stand up for what is right, even when it isn’t popular.
Even religious figures fall into the same boat. Buddha, Jesus, the Virgin Mary, Muhammad, and Martin Luther, are all heroes to good people, who have evoked change in their worlds, sacrificing part, if not all, of their lives to help bring about change. NO, I am not comparing Caitlyn Jenner to Jesus, merely saying that every community has its heroes.
Yes, not everyone’s heroes are the same. The beauty of having our own opinions is that they are our own. I feel that we as people have become too quick to shoot down others. Though she may not be a hero to you, she may be a hero to someone else, someone close to you that you love. Do we not need heroes in our world anymore? Do we not applaud people for giving a voice to people who need it? In the last year alone we have seen our country tearing itself apart, trying to give voice to a community that has not had it. Some of these voices have become loud and violent, yet we shoot down others voices when they do it using only words and experience gain from living the way they have. Whether you agree or even know someone who belongs to the transgender community, don’t cheapen a solid step for them in gaining a voice. It getting a step closer to have more understanding of where they come from, the challenges they deal with. It is by listening to these voices that we become the great country that we are. Understanding is the key to living in harmony with one another.
We don’t have to agree with peoples choices all the time. Time and people change. I am not here to push an agenda. I am here to say don’t be so quick to put people down before you have a chance to understand them and where they are coming from. Everyone is allowed to have their opinion on what is right and what is wrong. In our world today, we have lost the part about understanding and working together. There seems to be no more tolerance in social issues. Whether it is the transgender, gay marriage, or birth control, every side has come to the point where we demonize the other side. You’re either with us fully or totally against us. No room for compromise, no room for understanding and tolerance. I am not here to say who is right, and who is wrong on the issues. There is no absolute right or wrongs on these issues, no one will ever totally agree. That doesn’t mean we can’t live together in peace, working towards a better way of life.
We need to find our way back. We need to show ourselves and the world that we can find harmony in society with each other. We need to stop using absolutes, and hate fuel language. We need to remember that we are all people, and that we need to treat each other as such, Regardless of age, race, religion, sexual orientation, or gender identity, we need to stop hating when we don’t agree. We need to celebrate all of our heroes, those known and unknown. We can be that change. And sometimes that change needs a hero, in whatever form they come in.
Here is to my never ending hope for peace.
Ian Doherty
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Amidst heartache and sorrow, We find strength and purpose.
These last two weeks have been some of the hardest that I have yet to face. I moved out of my apartment to a new one closer to the university where I can further delve into finding more about myself. I faced one of the hardest sick days I have had in a long while, and then today, one of the most heartbreaking days I have ever had.
Tonight at 8 pm, one of the the loves of my life, my faithful dog Mocha, passed on, surrounded by her family. She had a wonderful full life, over 12 years living, and came up just a month shy of her thirteenth birthday. She was one of my loves, my girl. I grew up with her, slept on her, was comforted by her, awed by her, inspired by her.
I got a call today from my mother saying that she was not doing well. This was nothing new. Mocha had been a severe epileptic for over a decade. She was not expected to live past 8 years of age, and yet she proved all of them wrong. She had survived a bout with skin cancer, and in her old age had had a number of health problems, from infections to losing her hair. Yet, she lived on. watching over the house, barking at strangers, always trying to get the damn cats that the neighbors had, that played right in front of her know that she couldn't catch them. But today, she had lost control of her movements, had been falling over. It was serious this time. I arrived home, spent an hour with her. She wagged her tail and tried to stand when I walked in the door, which apparently was the most movement she had managed all day. I felt special. :)
My dad and brother took her down to the vet, our neighbor, at 630. I was helping my mom in the kitchen when the phone rang. I answered, and my dad was in tears, we are bringing her home, he gave us permission to do it there. At that moment, for me and mom, the reality set in. This was our last night, nay our last hours with a being that had become as much a part of the family as any of my brothers and sisters had been. Mom broke down almost immediately. I tried to remain composed, but inside i was tearing apart.
Something to understand at this point is that Mocha was not a normal dog. Every family has stories about things their dogs did, and here are mine. She was incredibly intelligent, She spoke to us, my mother especially. They tow understood each other in a way that was mother to child, person to person. She learned such varied communication in her life, that we always knew what she was thinking and what she wanted. Whether she was talking at you, kicking you or a piece of furniture, or just nuzzling you, she was an active part of the family. She was loyal, never far away from any member of the family at all times. She could sense when you were upset, and she was a comfort to me on many difficult occasion where the stroking of her fur was the most calming thing in the world. you could talk to her, and she would listen, fart, and move on. suddenly, your problems weren't so bad. She had some food allergies, so she ate well, better than me at points in my college career. and she was a joy to watch as she saw someone in her family come home after not seen them for a while. I loved coming home to visit when I moved out to see her, walk with her, see her ears flatten, her tail start wagging, and she try to lick me. There is something about the pure love of a dog that makes problems go away, that give hope, that give assurance and upliftment to your life. That was a small part of what made Mocha family. more than a dog, but a person.
She cam e back home with my dad and brother carrying her in. Later, mom and me reminisced about how ironic this was. When we first got mocha, She was picked up by my dad and brother. I also was recovering from a bout of strep throat as well. This time was no different, just a lifetime in between. She had an iv in her leg, and was very quiet. We laid her on a towel next the fireplace upstairs. My dad and brother went outside, to dig a spot for her in the backyard, near the canyon. Mom, Lisi, and I spent the next 45 minutes just petting her. I cried for the first time, and she seemed to sense that the end was close. She never made a fuss, never tried to get away, but sat and was with us. She talked at me for a bit while i was crying, and then she made moves to go outside. She loved it out there, always had. So i took her on our final walk, from Front room to Back stoop. She had a favorite spot, just in front of the back door, on the dirt, where she could sleep, get snowed on, and was a straight shot to get inside should the need arise. We sat outside with her on the chilly night, she looked so peaceful. he was in heaven, the cool air hitting her fur, cooling her form the heat of inside. My dad and brother came back. We all said our goodbyes, last pets, and then dad injected the solution into the iv that would bring her to a peaceful end. I never even really knew when it actually happened, she just looked like she had fallen asleep. Dad, Mom, and me were all bawling, crying and mourning at the loss of a child, a special child that made more of an impact on our lives that had any other pet before. She had transcended that boundary, and had become family. She passed peacefully, freed form the painful life that she had led. We wrapped her in one of my bedsheets, and Dad, Conner, and I carried her to the grave they had prepared. My Dad was emotional, and made it as far as the grave, and put her inside, before breaking down again. My brother and I filled in her grave, giving her a view of the garden, the canyon, and the house, all places she used to roam.
I digress for a second to enter this side note. Regardless of how strained or hard or non existent my relationship with my father can be, he is the strongest man that i know. His chosen career, working with kids who have very small survival rates, is inspiring. Tonight she showed the largest and hardest degree of compassion that I have ever seen. Like Abraham of old, he did what no father should have to do. He helped end the life of his child, so that the child would no longer suffer. I say this because to my parents, Mocha was their child. They raised her, talked to her. My Father spent many late nights meticulously brushing her, bathing her, walking her, and doing the dirty work so she looked beautiful. She meant more to my parents than even to me, and tonight was like a death in the family. For a while there, we walked, not know what to do, asking questions like where do we go from here? How do we fill this hole in our lives? I asked myself the same questions. As I walked in the house, my shoes caked with the mud from her grave, I out of habit almost called to her, seeking her comfort from the heartbreaking chore I had just performed.
Now that she is gone, I look back on her life, and what she meant to me. She was part of my heart, she was my girl, my Babe. She saw me at all my major crossroads in life, and now she is gone. i mourn that loss, and will for a time. My family and I are not the only ones that will miss her. She was a icon in the neighborhood, in our extended family, and that will be missed. She was a presence in every decision that we made as a family, especially about going on vacation. Medicine schedules, feeding, walking. Our lives revolved around her, our need for her our love for her.
I am trying find peace that she was able to leave this world at home, surrounded by those who loved her with all their hearts. I try to take strength for myself, looking at how difficult her life was, and yet she enjoyed every minute of it, regardless of what problem health-wise she was having. Can I be like that? Can i find that within myself?
Tonight at 8 pm, one of the the loves of my life, my faithful dog Mocha, passed on, surrounded by her family. She had a wonderful full life, over 12 years living, and came up just a month shy of her thirteenth birthday. She was one of my loves, my girl. I grew up with her, slept on her, was comforted by her, awed by her, inspired by her.
I got a call today from my mother saying that she was not doing well. This was nothing new. Mocha had been a severe epileptic for over a decade. She was not expected to live past 8 years of age, and yet she proved all of them wrong. She had survived a bout with skin cancer, and in her old age had had a number of health problems, from infections to losing her hair. Yet, she lived on. watching over the house, barking at strangers, always trying to get the damn cats that the neighbors had, that played right in front of her know that she couldn't catch them. But today, she had lost control of her movements, had been falling over. It was serious this time. I arrived home, spent an hour with her. She wagged her tail and tried to stand when I walked in the door, which apparently was the most movement she had managed all day. I felt special. :)
My dad and brother took her down to the vet, our neighbor, at 630. I was helping my mom in the kitchen when the phone rang. I answered, and my dad was in tears, we are bringing her home, he gave us permission to do it there. At that moment, for me and mom, the reality set in. This was our last night, nay our last hours with a being that had become as much a part of the family as any of my brothers and sisters had been. Mom broke down almost immediately. I tried to remain composed, but inside i was tearing apart.
Something to understand at this point is that Mocha was not a normal dog. Every family has stories about things their dogs did, and here are mine. She was incredibly intelligent, She spoke to us, my mother especially. They tow understood each other in a way that was mother to child, person to person. She learned such varied communication in her life, that we always knew what she was thinking and what she wanted. Whether she was talking at you, kicking you or a piece of furniture, or just nuzzling you, she was an active part of the family. She was loyal, never far away from any member of the family at all times. She could sense when you were upset, and she was a comfort to me on many difficult occasion where the stroking of her fur was the most calming thing in the world. you could talk to her, and she would listen, fart, and move on. suddenly, your problems weren't so bad. She had some food allergies, so she ate well, better than me at points in my college career. and she was a joy to watch as she saw someone in her family come home after not seen them for a while. I loved coming home to visit when I moved out to see her, walk with her, see her ears flatten, her tail start wagging, and she try to lick me. There is something about the pure love of a dog that makes problems go away, that give hope, that give assurance and upliftment to your life. That was a small part of what made Mocha family. more than a dog, but a person.
She cam e back home with my dad and brother carrying her in. Later, mom and me reminisced about how ironic this was. When we first got mocha, She was picked up by my dad and brother. I also was recovering from a bout of strep throat as well. This time was no different, just a lifetime in between. She had an iv in her leg, and was very quiet. We laid her on a towel next the fireplace upstairs. My dad and brother went outside, to dig a spot for her in the backyard, near the canyon. Mom, Lisi, and I spent the next 45 minutes just petting her. I cried for the first time, and she seemed to sense that the end was close. She never made a fuss, never tried to get away, but sat and was with us. She talked at me for a bit while i was crying, and then she made moves to go outside. She loved it out there, always had. So i took her on our final walk, from Front room to Back stoop. She had a favorite spot, just in front of the back door, on the dirt, where she could sleep, get snowed on, and was a straight shot to get inside should the need arise. We sat outside with her on the chilly night, she looked so peaceful. he was in heaven, the cool air hitting her fur, cooling her form the heat of inside. My dad and brother came back. We all said our goodbyes, last pets, and then dad injected the solution into the iv that would bring her to a peaceful end. I never even really knew when it actually happened, she just looked like she had fallen asleep. Dad, Mom, and me were all bawling, crying and mourning at the loss of a child, a special child that made more of an impact on our lives that had any other pet before. She had transcended that boundary, and had become family. She passed peacefully, freed form the painful life that she had led. We wrapped her in one of my bedsheets, and Dad, Conner, and I carried her to the grave they had prepared. My Dad was emotional, and made it as far as the grave, and put her inside, before breaking down again. My brother and I filled in her grave, giving her a view of the garden, the canyon, and the house, all places she used to roam.
I digress for a second to enter this side note. Regardless of how strained or hard or non existent my relationship with my father can be, he is the strongest man that i know. His chosen career, working with kids who have very small survival rates, is inspiring. Tonight she showed the largest and hardest degree of compassion that I have ever seen. Like Abraham of old, he did what no father should have to do. He helped end the life of his child, so that the child would no longer suffer. I say this because to my parents, Mocha was their child. They raised her, talked to her. My Father spent many late nights meticulously brushing her, bathing her, walking her, and doing the dirty work so she looked beautiful. She meant more to my parents than even to me, and tonight was like a death in the family. For a while there, we walked, not know what to do, asking questions like where do we go from here? How do we fill this hole in our lives? I asked myself the same questions. As I walked in the house, my shoes caked with the mud from her grave, I out of habit almost called to her, seeking her comfort from the heartbreaking chore I had just performed.
Now that she is gone, I look back on her life, and what she meant to me. She was part of my heart, she was my girl, my Babe. She saw me at all my major crossroads in life, and now she is gone. i mourn that loss, and will for a time. My family and I are not the only ones that will miss her. She was a icon in the neighborhood, in our extended family, and that will be missed. She was a presence in every decision that we made as a family, especially about going on vacation. Medicine schedules, feeding, walking. Our lives revolved around her, our need for her our love for her.
I am trying find peace that she was able to leave this world at home, surrounded by those who loved her with all their hearts. I try to take strength for myself, looking at how difficult her life was, and yet she enjoyed every minute of it, regardless of what problem health-wise she was having. Can I be like that? Can i find that within myself?
Friday, November 25, 2011
Hard times. Yet, I still see hope.
Well, It really has been a while hasn't it? I found myself unable to sleep yet, in anticipation of tomorrow, and felt compelled to write. So here I am, trying desperately to remember what I last wrote about, what to include, and how to say what is pressing on my mind. In looking back, My last blog post was at the very end of August. three full months ago. As I re-read what I wrote that day, I am shocked at how much has happened.
I guess the most crucial thing to preface this with is that I had knee surgery less than a week after my last post. Funny to think now that the surgery has been one of the most interesting, eye opening, and painful experiences of my life. In saying this, and to preface for the rest of what may very well turn out to be yet another depressing post, (i am trying to not be so negative, and I hope to succeed. :) ) please realize that I write not to gain pity. More like I write to try and help both myself and any who read this realize and understand what has been happening in my life, my head, and my heart, and to gain understanding of who I am as a person, a being, a soul. With that said, I launch into my tale.
My surgery happened on a Monday morning. It was interesting for the fact that I had only been seeing the doctors about my injury, sustained during the production of Bye, Bye, Birdie that I was in over the summer, for about three weeks. I could have waited, and had the surgery done at a more free time in my schedule. I am glad that I didn't, for reasons that will soon become obvious. The surgery went of without a hitch, at least at that point. Side note of worth, I had finished moving out of my parents house the day before. I have been rooming with two of my Fraternity brothers(in case i have not mentioned that previously, I joined the Phi Delta Theta Fraternity on Campus back in the spring) since that weekend. This will be valuable information later. So instead of going home to my parents house, I went home to my new apartment in downtown SLC. There I rested, till i went to help my Fraternity with Rush Week, seeking to gain new brothers. Stupid in the extreme, but worth it, since I would not make it back to the house with any regularity for the rest of the semester.
With that behind me, I began to adjust to life as a disabled person, even if it be for a short time. I missed less a two days worth of classes total, including my dance classes, due to my surgery. I used a wheelchair to get around campus to my classes, and to work. Here is where the trouble really began. I recently crewed the University production of Hair, and Claude, one of the main characters, towards the end of the show, appears on stage, and know one can see him. He has become invisible. That is what I have felt like since my surgery. Invisible. While I was in the chair, It was as if i didn't exist. I got used to doing everything myself, from opening doors to wheeling around campus. I got help from the occasional stranger, but most of the time, I had to do it myself. This became very disconcerting. Some may ask, Why didn't you ask for help? In answer to your question, I did. At first, i asked only when I really needed it. My requests were met with much seeming apprehension, dislike, and general bother. After about two times of that, only dire need could get me to ask for help. It wasn't that I didn't want the help, just that I hate to be a bother, and so hoped that those who would volunteer would not have the same apprehension as the others did. What really happened was that I was ignored, for the most part. This started me down a chain of events that has led me down a twisted path indeed. It was the first stone in a pond that would magnify as the weeks went on.
I ended up missing every audition for the shows that occurred this semester, which was a blessing and a curse. A blessing that i didn't hold anyone back. A curse, because that, plus the surgery itself, gave me social Leprosy. I often joked with myself that I had no crowd to join with, because I was not in a show, not gay, and not in Hair. This may not be understood, so i will explain. As i settled into life in a wheelchair, My entire existence opened up to me. Suddenly I had massive amounts of spare time. I had no where to go cause I couldn't go anywhere without assistance. It was at that time that I began to notice that everyone would disappear, and i would be left alone. It was the first time in my life that I have felt true abandonment. I was in a strange place, a new place, and had no one with which to help me adjust or escape. I would hear stories, from those around me, of activities, and things that had occurred, and yet, i heard about them after. I got used to hearing the phrase, "We wondered where you were".
As this continued, i found myself spiraling into a deep depression. I continued to go to class everyday, even the ones where i couldn't do anything. This proved as much a blessing of escape as a curse, for i sank deeper and deeper into my depression from my lack of ability to do the things that I loved.
And then there was the experience of roommates. It was my mission that I last had to live with someone in one room. Yes, I have an actual roommate, that sleeps in the same room as I. I like both of my roommates, that goes without saying. I care for them and their happiness, even if it isn't returned in kind. It was and still is a difficult transition. I am trying to learn as fast as I can to live with two people in one place, and to try and keep the piece. Even if i feel that i am not treated with the same respect as they treat each other, even if I am made to feel like a piece of crap who is a slob and lazy, i still work hard to keep the piece, never complaining, always trying to improve. Despite the hard times that are here, I still am able to proudly call this place home. It is mine, and i love it.
All of these forces combined against me. I felt abandoned, lost, alone, lonely, and forsaken by everything that I cared about and loved. Friends, co workers, god himself seemed to have left me by the wayside. I felt that I had no where to turn. I started letting it get to me, and it led me down a path of misery and pain, carelessness, and self destruction. I lost the desire to work out, to trust, to like myself, to believe in myself. For a time, I felt as if the world was against me, that I was a worthless piece of crap not deserving of attention, love, or aid. Time seemed to drag, and I was falling deeper and deeper into a hole that I had no hope of climbing out of.
Then life got busy. I still, despite all the troubled times, kept at school and work, trying to focus and work things out. The feelings never really went away, but I strove to not let it control my life completely, I threw myself into caring for other, trying to help and support them as often as i could. Most of the time, I was rewarded with nothing but more depression, as my attempts at uplifting and aiding were met with loathing, indignation, anger, and contempt. It seemed that I could do no right, that I was simply annoying, to everyone all the time. How often I wanted to give up, I cannot even begin to count, and that has continued even as recent as this last week. That has been the hardest thing to deal with, ironically enough. It literally feels like a slap in the face, or getting hit, which has happened unfortunately. it is, to me anyway, the deepest form of betrayal. Even if these were lashed out in anger, and were no supposed to be directed at me, trying to convince yourself of that reality is nigh impossible.
And then came Hair. It was an incredible experience. It was also one of the most challenging, the most difficult, and eye opening. The production itself was hard, mainly because we were short crewed, so we were all pulling more weight than normal. after all of it was done, I saw the cast congratulating each other on a good run, which they all deserved, because they were incredible. They brought it every night, and were great. I was proud to serve them. I just wish that I had been included in that celebration. I saw my fellow crewmates, even if it was just a hug and a great job, thank you. I was happy that they got that gift, and jealous that I wasn't included. It made me feel like old news.
That led me to a rather interesting and disheartening discovery. I was an attention hog. It hadn't dawned on me, or at least i had been denying that for some time, that it was the case. That was the first time when I actually admitted to myself that I really was an attention hog. Icing on a terrible cake gone wrong. Never before had I felt so dirty, so ugly, so unclean. i truly hated myself, I wanted to curl in a ball, and never come out again. Perhaps it was my saving grace that I continued to dwell on that, but I did, and i came to realize something else. I was an attention hog, but not the reason that I thought. I realized that it wasn't that i wanted everything to be about me, but more that I wanted to now that I was not invisible. I thought back to Susan Sarandon in Shall We Dance, when she is talking to the detective and he asks her why people get married. She says that it is because we all want someone to witness our lives. i take that a step farther. I have wanted people to recognize what part I had to play, I wanted to feel that I had enabled them in part to their success. So be it, that is what I feel, and heaven help me to keep it that way, and not let me go down that thorny path of self importance.
now, if you were thinking that this would all be gloom and doom, believe me I thought so too, it is not the case. Sometimes from our greatest trials we can gain some of the most valuable insight. I will share them with you in just a moment, for there is more to share, and much of this is good.
I started on my path to recovery, and made progress till about the beginning of October. Then I regressed in my progress some three weeks. it was a blow to me, for I was hoping to be on the mend. it was not to be. I suffered a complication, where I developed a piece of scar tissue where they had inserted the scope to do my surgery. A hard piece of tissue lodged in your knee is a painful thing, and still is plaguing me, thought through pt has been helping immensely. As i began on that road back to recovery, I was given the opportunity to check out the University Ballroom team. I fell back to my habits, and started to dance. It turned out to be a great thing, for they asked me to stay and perform with them. That is happening today, and It fills me with joy when I think of it. I have met some wonderful people, and get to do what I love again.
And now to the things that I have gained from this painful journey. A list, for clarity:
1. Even though I have been through the closest thing to hell that I have yet encountered, I am still here, fighting tooth and nail to stay above the water. So far, I have succeeded.
2. Even though i have my issues with it, I can still call my apartment home, and my roommates family.
3. I can still love, care, and serve those who don't care one way or the other.
4. i still have my talents, even when they are not at 100% capability.
5. recovery is a slow process, but every step counts.
6. I am not a bad person, and I have good intentions. Even if I may be selfish at times, I care for others even in those times.
These lessons are what have kept me afloat. Even as I struggle to pull myself from the self-destructive patters that I have put myself into, I know that i will, slowly and surely. It may take a long time, but it will happen. I am constantly aided by those around me, the friends that cheer me with a thoughtful chat, a program from a show, or a simple nice to see you. it is those times that make these troubles lighter, and give more hope that can possibly be known. Karma, at least as I believe, is a very real thing, and I live every day, helping those who I love and care about, hoping to have the kindness returned, one day. regardless of whether it actually happens, i know that I will continue to live as I have, helping all that I can, in any way that I can. May we all.
Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving. :)
I guess the most crucial thing to preface this with is that I had knee surgery less than a week after my last post. Funny to think now that the surgery has been one of the most interesting, eye opening, and painful experiences of my life. In saying this, and to preface for the rest of what may very well turn out to be yet another depressing post, (i am trying to not be so negative, and I hope to succeed. :) ) please realize that I write not to gain pity. More like I write to try and help both myself and any who read this realize and understand what has been happening in my life, my head, and my heart, and to gain understanding of who I am as a person, a being, a soul. With that said, I launch into my tale.
My surgery happened on a Monday morning. It was interesting for the fact that I had only been seeing the doctors about my injury, sustained during the production of Bye, Bye, Birdie that I was in over the summer, for about three weeks. I could have waited, and had the surgery done at a more free time in my schedule. I am glad that I didn't, for reasons that will soon become obvious. The surgery went of without a hitch, at least at that point. Side note of worth, I had finished moving out of my parents house the day before. I have been rooming with two of my Fraternity brothers(in case i have not mentioned that previously, I joined the Phi Delta Theta Fraternity on Campus back in the spring) since that weekend. This will be valuable information later. So instead of going home to my parents house, I went home to my new apartment in downtown SLC. There I rested, till i went to help my Fraternity with Rush Week, seeking to gain new brothers. Stupid in the extreme, but worth it, since I would not make it back to the house with any regularity for the rest of the semester.
With that behind me, I began to adjust to life as a disabled person, even if it be for a short time. I missed less a two days worth of classes total, including my dance classes, due to my surgery. I used a wheelchair to get around campus to my classes, and to work. Here is where the trouble really began. I recently crewed the University production of Hair, and Claude, one of the main characters, towards the end of the show, appears on stage, and know one can see him. He has become invisible. That is what I have felt like since my surgery. Invisible. While I was in the chair, It was as if i didn't exist. I got used to doing everything myself, from opening doors to wheeling around campus. I got help from the occasional stranger, but most of the time, I had to do it myself. This became very disconcerting. Some may ask, Why didn't you ask for help? In answer to your question, I did. At first, i asked only when I really needed it. My requests were met with much seeming apprehension, dislike, and general bother. After about two times of that, only dire need could get me to ask for help. It wasn't that I didn't want the help, just that I hate to be a bother, and so hoped that those who would volunteer would not have the same apprehension as the others did. What really happened was that I was ignored, for the most part. This started me down a chain of events that has led me down a twisted path indeed. It was the first stone in a pond that would magnify as the weeks went on.
I ended up missing every audition for the shows that occurred this semester, which was a blessing and a curse. A blessing that i didn't hold anyone back. A curse, because that, plus the surgery itself, gave me social Leprosy. I often joked with myself that I had no crowd to join with, because I was not in a show, not gay, and not in Hair. This may not be understood, so i will explain. As i settled into life in a wheelchair, My entire existence opened up to me. Suddenly I had massive amounts of spare time. I had no where to go cause I couldn't go anywhere without assistance. It was at that time that I began to notice that everyone would disappear, and i would be left alone. It was the first time in my life that I have felt true abandonment. I was in a strange place, a new place, and had no one with which to help me adjust or escape. I would hear stories, from those around me, of activities, and things that had occurred, and yet, i heard about them after. I got used to hearing the phrase, "We wondered where you were".
As this continued, i found myself spiraling into a deep depression. I continued to go to class everyday, even the ones where i couldn't do anything. This proved as much a blessing of escape as a curse, for i sank deeper and deeper into my depression from my lack of ability to do the things that I loved.
And then there was the experience of roommates. It was my mission that I last had to live with someone in one room. Yes, I have an actual roommate, that sleeps in the same room as I. I like both of my roommates, that goes without saying. I care for them and their happiness, even if it isn't returned in kind. It was and still is a difficult transition. I am trying to learn as fast as I can to live with two people in one place, and to try and keep the piece. Even if i feel that i am not treated with the same respect as they treat each other, even if I am made to feel like a piece of crap who is a slob and lazy, i still work hard to keep the piece, never complaining, always trying to improve. Despite the hard times that are here, I still am able to proudly call this place home. It is mine, and i love it.
All of these forces combined against me. I felt abandoned, lost, alone, lonely, and forsaken by everything that I cared about and loved. Friends, co workers, god himself seemed to have left me by the wayside. I felt that I had no where to turn. I started letting it get to me, and it led me down a path of misery and pain, carelessness, and self destruction. I lost the desire to work out, to trust, to like myself, to believe in myself. For a time, I felt as if the world was against me, that I was a worthless piece of crap not deserving of attention, love, or aid. Time seemed to drag, and I was falling deeper and deeper into a hole that I had no hope of climbing out of.
Then life got busy. I still, despite all the troubled times, kept at school and work, trying to focus and work things out. The feelings never really went away, but I strove to not let it control my life completely, I threw myself into caring for other, trying to help and support them as often as i could. Most of the time, I was rewarded with nothing but more depression, as my attempts at uplifting and aiding were met with loathing, indignation, anger, and contempt. It seemed that I could do no right, that I was simply annoying, to everyone all the time. How often I wanted to give up, I cannot even begin to count, and that has continued even as recent as this last week. That has been the hardest thing to deal with, ironically enough. It literally feels like a slap in the face, or getting hit, which has happened unfortunately. it is, to me anyway, the deepest form of betrayal. Even if these were lashed out in anger, and were no supposed to be directed at me, trying to convince yourself of that reality is nigh impossible.
And then came Hair. It was an incredible experience. It was also one of the most challenging, the most difficult, and eye opening. The production itself was hard, mainly because we were short crewed, so we were all pulling more weight than normal. after all of it was done, I saw the cast congratulating each other on a good run, which they all deserved, because they were incredible. They brought it every night, and were great. I was proud to serve them. I just wish that I had been included in that celebration. I saw my fellow crewmates, even if it was just a hug and a great job, thank you. I was happy that they got that gift, and jealous that I wasn't included. It made me feel like old news.
That led me to a rather interesting and disheartening discovery. I was an attention hog. It hadn't dawned on me, or at least i had been denying that for some time, that it was the case. That was the first time when I actually admitted to myself that I really was an attention hog. Icing on a terrible cake gone wrong. Never before had I felt so dirty, so ugly, so unclean. i truly hated myself, I wanted to curl in a ball, and never come out again. Perhaps it was my saving grace that I continued to dwell on that, but I did, and i came to realize something else. I was an attention hog, but not the reason that I thought. I realized that it wasn't that i wanted everything to be about me, but more that I wanted to now that I was not invisible. I thought back to Susan Sarandon in Shall We Dance, when she is talking to the detective and he asks her why people get married. She says that it is because we all want someone to witness our lives. i take that a step farther. I have wanted people to recognize what part I had to play, I wanted to feel that I had enabled them in part to their success. So be it, that is what I feel, and heaven help me to keep it that way, and not let me go down that thorny path of self importance.
now, if you were thinking that this would all be gloom and doom, believe me I thought so too, it is not the case. Sometimes from our greatest trials we can gain some of the most valuable insight. I will share them with you in just a moment, for there is more to share, and much of this is good.
I started on my path to recovery, and made progress till about the beginning of October. Then I regressed in my progress some three weeks. it was a blow to me, for I was hoping to be on the mend. it was not to be. I suffered a complication, where I developed a piece of scar tissue where they had inserted the scope to do my surgery. A hard piece of tissue lodged in your knee is a painful thing, and still is plaguing me, thought through pt has been helping immensely. As i began on that road back to recovery, I was given the opportunity to check out the University Ballroom team. I fell back to my habits, and started to dance. It turned out to be a great thing, for they asked me to stay and perform with them. That is happening today, and It fills me with joy when I think of it. I have met some wonderful people, and get to do what I love again.
And now to the things that I have gained from this painful journey. A list, for clarity:
1. Even though I have been through the closest thing to hell that I have yet encountered, I am still here, fighting tooth and nail to stay above the water. So far, I have succeeded.
2. Even though i have my issues with it, I can still call my apartment home, and my roommates family.
3. I can still love, care, and serve those who don't care one way or the other.
4. i still have my talents, even when they are not at 100% capability.
5. recovery is a slow process, but every step counts.
6. I am not a bad person, and I have good intentions. Even if I may be selfish at times, I care for others even in those times.
These lessons are what have kept me afloat. Even as I struggle to pull myself from the self-destructive patters that I have put myself into, I know that i will, slowly and surely. It may take a long time, but it will happen. I am constantly aided by those around me, the friends that cheer me with a thoughtful chat, a program from a show, or a simple nice to see you. it is those times that make these troubles lighter, and give more hope that can possibly be known. Karma, at least as I believe, is a very real thing, and I live every day, helping those who I love and care about, hoping to have the kindness returned, one day. regardless of whether it actually happens, i know that I will continue to live as I have, helping all that I can, in any way that I can. May we all.
Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving. :)
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Epiphany
It certainly has been a while since I wrote one of these. I have lots to tell, and there will be multiple posts coming soon. However, a series of events, spanning a couple of months, have finally registered. I feel it is time to express what I have been thinking about. so here it goes. I precursor the following post with this: EVEN THOUGH THE CONTENTS FOCUS ON THE NEGATIVE, IT WAS NOT ALL NEGATIVE! This post is mainly to get out a culmination of events that have happened, and have had a profound and lasting effect on me in the last couple of months.
It starts back in June. Part 1: I am scheduled to go hang out with a friend, who is leaving to go out of town. Plans changed, as they often do. In this case, I had asked off from work two weeks in advance, and had been eagerly awaiting this last meeting. Turns out, the day before, this friend informs me, at a seprate get together that was originally not supposed to happen, that the plans we had were changed, and that he was doing something with someone else. It upset me, because I had been looking forward to this time together, had even gotten off work for it, and now wasn't going to happen. When this friend saw that I was upset, they commented that I am very inflexable, that people don't make plans with me in advance because I don't do well with changes. I get upset when things don't go according to plan, that i put too much stock in what people say.
Part 2: I was dealing with some intense personal issues, and turned to a friend that I trusted to confide in. i told this person of my struggles, my challenges. I was looking for someone to help me get through this particularly rough patch. Our conversation, due to very busy schedules on both of our parts kept getting pushed back. so I decided to air what I had been thinking on the subject, in a letter to this friend. I said a lot of things in that letter, things that I don't often share. I asked for guidance in dealing with some of my personal crisis. This friend took offense to some of the things that I said in this letter, things that never were intended to be offensive in any way. This friend wrote me back a short response, and then hadn't spoken to me since.
Part 3: While out one night with friends, we were discussing different topics on our way home. I had been having a rough week at that point, my medication had been making me a bit wacked, and so I was in a mood, admittedly. The subject of depression came up. This friend of mine, in the course of the conversation, says, "chronically depressed people just irritate me. They are one of my pet peeves."
Now, that is the basics of what is setting up what happened today that has given me much food for thought. More specific detail I will leave out, even though I don't think that the parties involved read this, better not to taint opinion, cause I still love all of these people.
So, if you didn't know, I had knee surgery this week, Monday to be exact. i felt great that first night, and went to my fraturnity house to help out with Rush Week, where we look for new recruits. Yesterday, Tuesday, I felt good in the morning, so I got up, got a ride to jazz class, where I observed, and stayed on campus for the most part of the day, helping again at rush that night. Then, today it hit me like a ton of bricks. Ironic really. As i looked back, I wondered if I just didn't recognize this yesterday, which is entirely possible, but that yesterday i didn't have a need to see it. So we get to the end of Ballet Class today, where I was observing, and everyone leaves. I am still struggling to try and get my computer into my backpack. I finally give up, and call one of my classmates over to help me put it in. By the way, i have been using a wheelchair for the last day, cause the traveling I had to do for class and work has been too much on my arms to just do the crutches that I was given.
So i get my computer into my bag with the help of my classmate. I manage to get out the door. I ask if anyone is headed up to the Union building, cause I needed to get food. I hadn't eaten yet except for a piece of bread so I could take my pain pill, and I was feeling really weak. no one moved or responded. So i turned around, and headed up the elevator to the main lobby. I decided that food took the priority over much else, so started struggling up towards the union building. For those of you who dont know, the U of U campus is VERY hilly. i feel really bad for those people who have to use wheelchairs around campus all the time! I struggle for about 5 minutes before a couple of my friends form outside of school spot me, and volunteer to help. I make it up to the union, get my drink, and then start, again unhelped, down towards my next class. it is important to note that several of my 'classmates' have been either looking directly at me, or even spoken to me at this point. i get back down to my class at the performing arts building, sit through class. As class finishes, I ask again if anyone is going to the union building. I needed to go to the ATM up there, and I had only 30 minutes to do so, before I had to work. Not a word. i finally went and asked one of my classmates whether they could do it. They reluctently agreed, and spent the entire time talking about how they wish they could find someone else to do it, how it was hard, and they had other things to do. I make it up to the union building, get my stuff done, and head back to the store, again unhelped. i make it o work, and start. halfway through my shift, I hit a low. I had been on traveling a lot hat day, i hadn;t eaten in a couple of hours, and my pain pills had just kicked in, which usually make me sleepy. A friend comes by, sees me, and asks how I am. I reply that i am tired, but managing. This friend then implies that it was my own fault, because I had not rested as much as they thought I should have in the last couple of days, in rather snide tones.
Now, I take into account several things from this. First,i am on medication that is affecting my thinking processes to a degree. Second, I tried too much, and overtaxed myself. Third, i am stressed because of the time of year, and the fact that I moved out of my house the day before i had major surgery. Fourth, I just had major surgery that has left me in pain, and with extremely limited mobility. Fifth, i have been dealing with near constant pain for several months, and have not been able to do what I have wanted to do, professional wise, which has put me in a funk. That being said, after this morning, i realized that there was a common thread between these major events in my life over the past couple of months. I felt abandoned.
I think that today really put it into perspective, since I saw it up close and personal. In all of the times when my depression has acted up, all the times when i thought to give up, it was a mental game. Me against my brain. Today, however, was the first time when I was utterly helpless, and felt totally abandoned. It was not only that my head was telling me this crap, but i physically had no one to help me. I had been left on my own, among people that I have gotten close to, who know that I am struggling physically at the moment, and yet couldn't be bothered to offer any help. and when asked, made it seem like it was the last thing they wanted to do. I became a burden. I have often felt this way, especially in some of my relationships that I have formed this last year. Today hit me hard with what it actually felt like. Pardon my french, but i felt like a pile of worthless shit on wheels. I felt it deep, the sense of invisability, worthlessness. Did i not deserve help? Am i so unpopular, unliked, unknown that this is how it is to be? Did i bring it on myself, and everyone is just letting me get my punishment? Perhaps it hurt so much because I knew that if the situation was reversed, or if it was someone else in the chair, it wouldn't have happened. The entire situation would have changed. The question of people helping another would never have come up. it would have been handled, taken care of. I had quite a bit of time to ponder this today, as I wheeled around campus. As i thought on it, it brought back the previous memories. I realized that abandonment what what i had felt at each occasion. The first part was a slap in the face. I felt my respect had been abandoned. I was not important, my time and preparation didn't matter. I just needed to be more "fluid", regardless of what had been said or planned. Part 2 had me feeling abandoned by my friend because i had opened up, shown something from inside, and the it had been shattered by silence. in my quest to be understood, to gain new perspective, i had opened up, thrown out ideas, and gotten back a lead weight. Part three saw me reeling form another abandonment of trust. i had b=gone to this person before when i had struggled, and now suddenly found I couldn't anymore. I had been abandoned, because what I am was considered an annoyance, a peeve. how was i ever supposed to share, or go to this person again if I had problems, knowing what they were thinking?
As i thought on all of these things today, I worked hard to remember the positives, the good things that happened. i will tell those later.
But for now, here is hat I learned from myself today. First, i work hard everyday to see in people what they need, and how to help them. I know how i feel, sometimes multiple times a day, when it comes to stuff like this. i cannot live with myself thinking that someone close to me feels this way about themselves. I cannot be the person that doesn't nothing when i could do something. Second, I reinforced within myself to do better at helping others around me when they are struggling. and third, I will always take the time to push a wheelchair around campus. never again will i see another like me, and pass by. TO all those who have suffered because i didnothing, i larned my lesson. I have the brusied sides, hands, and arms to prove it.:)
It starts back in June. Part 1: I am scheduled to go hang out with a friend, who is leaving to go out of town. Plans changed, as they often do. In this case, I had asked off from work two weeks in advance, and had been eagerly awaiting this last meeting. Turns out, the day before, this friend informs me, at a seprate get together that was originally not supposed to happen, that the plans we had were changed, and that he was doing something with someone else. It upset me, because I had been looking forward to this time together, had even gotten off work for it, and now wasn't going to happen. When this friend saw that I was upset, they commented that I am very inflexable, that people don't make plans with me in advance because I don't do well with changes. I get upset when things don't go according to plan, that i put too much stock in what people say.
Part 2: I was dealing with some intense personal issues, and turned to a friend that I trusted to confide in. i told this person of my struggles, my challenges. I was looking for someone to help me get through this particularly rough patch. Our conversation, due to very busy schedules on both of our parts kept getting pushed back. so I decided to air what I had been thinking on the subject, in a letter to this friend. I said a lot of things in that letter, things that I don't often share. I asked for guidance in dealing with some of my personal crisis. This friend took offense to some of the things that I said in this letter, things that never were intended to be offensive in any way. This friend wrote me back a short response, and then hadn't spoken to me since.
Part 3: While out one night with friends, we were discussing different topics on our way home. I had been having a rough week at that point, my medication had been making me a bit wacked, and so I was in a mood, admittedly. The subject of depression came up. This friend of mine, in the course of the conversation, says, "chronically depressed people just irritate me. They are one of my pet peeves."
Now, that is the basics of what is setting up what happened today that has given me much food for thought. More specific detail I will leave out, even though I don't think that the parties involved read this, better not to taint opinion, cause I still love all of these people.
So, if you didn't know, I had knee surgery this week, Monday to be exact. i felt great that first night, and went to my fraturnity house to help out with Rush Week, where we look for new recruits. Yesterday, Tuesday, I felt good in the morning, so I got up, got a ride to jazz class, where I observed, and stayed on campus for the most part of the day, helping again at rush that night. Then, today it hit me like a ton of bricks. Ironic really. As i looked back, I wondered if I just didn't recognize this yesterday, which is entirely possible, but that yesterday i didn't have a need to see it. So we get to the end of Ballet Class today, where I was observing, and everyone leaves. I am still struggling to try and get my computer into my backpack. I finally give up, and call one of my classmates over to help me put it in. By the way, i have been using a wheelchair for the last day, cause the traveling I had to do for class and work has been too much on my arms to just do the crutches that I was given.
So i get my computer into my bag with the help of my classmate. I manage to get out the door. I ask if anyone is headed up to the Union building, cause I needed to get food. I hadn't eaten yet except for a piece of bread so I could take my pain pill, and I was feeling really weak. no one moved or responded. So i turned around, and headed up the elevator to the main lobby. I decided that food took the priority over much else, so started struggling up towards the union building. For those of you who dont know, the U of U campus is VERY hilly. i feel really bad for those people who have to use wheelchairs around campus all the time! I struggle for about 5 minutes before a couple of my friends form outside of school spot me, and volunteer to help. I make it up to the union, get my drink, and then start, again unhelped, down towards my next class. it is important to note that several of my 'classmates' have been either looking directly at me, or even spoken to me at this point. i get back down to my class at the performing arts building, sit through class. As class finishes, I ask again if anyone is going to the union building. I needed to go to the ATM up there, and I had only 30 minutes to do so, before I had to work. Not a word. i finally went and asked one of my classmates whether they could do it. They reluctently agreed, and spent the entire time talking about how they wish they could find someone else to do it, how it was hard, and they had other things to do. I make it up to the union building, get my stuff done, and head back to the store, again unhelped. i make it o work, and start. halfway through my shift, I hit a low. I had been on traveling a lot hat day, i hadn;t eaten in a couple of hours, and my pain pills had just kicked in, which usually make me sleepy. A friend comes by, sees me, and asks how I am. I reply that i am tired, but managing. This friend then implies that it was my own fault, because I had not rested as much as they thought I should have in the last couple of days, in rather snide tones.
Now, I take into account several things from this. First,i am on medication that is affecting my thinking processes to a degree. Second, I tried too much, and overtaxed myself. Third, i am stressed because of the time of year, and the fact that I moved out of my house the day before i had major surgery. Fourth, I just had major surgery that has left me in pain, and with extremely limited mobility. Fifth, i have been dealing with near constant pain for several months, and have not been able to do what I have wanted to do, professional wise, which has put me in a funk. That being said, after this morning, i realized that there was a common thread between these major events in my life over the past couple of months. I felt abandoned.
I think that today really put it into perspective, since I saw it up close and personal. In all of the times when my depression has acted up, all the times when i thought to give up, it was a mental game. Me against my brain. Today, however, was the first time when I was utterly helpless, and felt totally abandoned. It was not only that my head was telling me this crap, but i physically had no one to help me. I had been left on my own, among people that I have gotten close to, who know that I am struggling physically at the moment, and yet couldn't be bothered to offer any help. and when asked, made it seem like it was the last thing they wanted to do. I became a burden. I have often felt this way, especially in some of my relationships that I have formed this last year. Today hit me hard with what it actually felt like. Pardon my french, but i felt like a pile of worthless shit on wheels. I felt it deep, the sense of invisability, worthlessness. Did i not deserve help? Am i so unpopular, unliked, unknown that this is how it is to be? Did i bring it on myself, and everyone is just letting me get my punishment? Perhaps it hurt so much because I knew that if the situation was reversed, or if it was someone else in the chair, it wouldn't have happened. The entire situation would have changed. The question of people helping another would never have come up. it would have been handled, taken care of. I had quite a bit of time to ponder this today, as I wheeled around campus. As i thought on it, it brought back the previous memories. I realized that abandonment what what i had felt at each occasion. The first part was a slap in the face. I felt my respect had been abandoned. I was not important, my time and preparation didn't matter. I just needed to be more "fluid", regardless of what had been said or planned. Part 2 had me feeling abandoned by my friend because i had opened up, shown something from inside, and the it had been shattered by silence. in my quest to be understood, to gain new perspective, i had opened up, thrown out ideas, and gotten back a lead weight. Part three saw me reeling form another abandonment of trust. i had b=gone to this person before when i had struggled, and now suddenly found I couldn't anymore. I had been abandoned, because what I am was considered an annoyance, a peeve. how was i ever supposed to share, or go to this person again if I had problems, knowing what they were thinking?
As i thought on all of these things today, I worked hard to remember the positives, the good things that happened. i will tell those later.
But for now, here is hat I learned from myself today. First, i work hard everyday to see in people what they need, and how to help them. I know how i feel, sometimes multiple times a day, when it comes to stuff like this. i cannot live with myself thinking that someone close to me feels this way about themselves. I cannot be the person that doesn't nothing when i could do something. Second, I reinforced within myself to do better at helping others around me when they are struggling. and third, I will always take the time to push a wheelchair around campus. never again will i see another like me, and pass by. TO all those who have suffered because i didnothing, i larned my lesson. I have the brusied sides, hands, and arms to prove it.:)
Thursday, December 2, 2010
When The Brain Fails, What Else Is Left?
I have decided, until I get the money and time to actually get diagnosed, that I am Bi Polar. I really have no other way to describe what has become a very frequent battle for me. I hope that by attempting to describe my battle, that I will not only help myself to overcome the challenges, but that my friends and acquaintances will be able to understand what is going through my head a little better. Knowledge is power after all.
It is weird, even for me, how quickly things can change with me. Thankfully, I have managed to get control over the more dangerous portion of my struggles. Suicidal thoughts have been a major problem for me for many years. I am not completely out of the woods yet, but I thankfully have been able to get a handle on how far I go. Only time can really tell if I can get complete control over it. I am positive that I can, It will just take some more time.
I will preface this next part by saying this. In the past, as in my entire life leading up to the last about 6 months, I have dealt with my attacks very poorly. I would just let it roll over me, and I wouldn't try to stop it, and just wallow in the misery of it. In the past 6 months, I have started, whenever I have an attack of any magnitude, to try and figure out what the trigger is, if there is one, and what I am feeling.
Tonight I had a mini break through of sorts. I started off today great. Life had some small hiccups, but I had a great day. Then, I was waiting for a friend to come and work out. It ended up that he showed up just in time for me to leave, because I had rehearsal. By the time I walked to the door, I was losing it, and the second I got in the car I lost it completely. I took me around 25 minutes to get myself under control, at least enough to go out in public without people asking who died. This has actually been a fairly typical example of what I have to deal with. Tonight, since I didn't know it was coming, and was all alone to deal with it, thankfully, I decided to really try and figure out what the heck was going on with me. I came to the following conclusions:
1. Since I began with the MTP, I have gained many great friends. In my head, my fantasy if you will, that meant that I wouldn't end up like I have in the past. Alone, bored, listening to other people tell of fantastic adventures. I have never been able to connect well people my own age, and so any time that happens, I seize it will all gusto.
2. In conjunction with that, I realized that each moment I get to spend with my new family, as they are really closer than just friends, is more precious to me than I can really put into words. Especially my guy friends. Those who know me know that I have never been very Masculine, nor man "Guy" friends, at least the Sports cars types.
3. My brain, when I have attacks, tells me all sorts of things, but mainly it drags up things that I see, and then shows me how it was the same in the past. I realized that I put a lot of stock into meetings, dates, appointments, and time with people. They represent to me he things that I have never felt that I had, and always wanted. A large group of friends that thought that I was cool enough to have around, to want to include me in things that they were doing. So every time that something goes wrong, a trip gets canceled, an event gets canceled, things happen that make it so thing just don't happen, My brain reverts back to a line of thinking like this. "you will never get what you want, because you can't change what is wrong with you. you will always be the same, second on the list, last on the mind. A permatag along." The diatribe begins, and just gets worse unless I stop it.
4. When I am disappointed about something, i am usually distracted enough to not check myself before it goes too far.
5. I don't like these times when I lose it. I am trying to work on becoming more of a masculine man, and these kind of incidents just serve to remind me how far I am from where I would like to be.
6. I hate feeling weak and powerless. it hurts me to think about how I don't have the control over myself that i want, that I feel too weak to do anything about it, cause the same things keep happening over and over again. I want to be able to control myself, to not these kind of things blow way out of proportion.
7.I hate that my brain can have this much power over me, even though I try to take control. I hate that there are some people who don;t seem to talk to me anymore about normal things, just when they are checking on how I am doing, and leaving it at that. I want so desperately to be what I would consider normal, without the problems that I feel make me less desirable to other, both as friends and otherwise.
8. I want to stop thinking that I am being left out, if I am not included in everything. I want to be, but, I find myself getting worked up if I even for a moment think that i am being left outside of the loop. Again, my brain goes into reverse mode.
9. There are a lot of times when my attacks happen, and I will share, usually through facebook, the state that I am in. I realized that I do this for two reasons. The first is so that I can be stopped form doing doing something stupid. At least I believe that there is someone who watches me, and tries to stop me from doing stupid things. Second is that I watch to see if the people that I most want to hear from will say or do something. I can say that many times, the best help for attacks has been a simple hug, and a kind word.
10. There area couple of people in my life that I really want to be with. Whatever the relationship may be (and for all of those who don;t fit into this category, you will never know, you have all been in it at one point or another), I crave time and attention from these people. Most of the time, it is because of how I feel when I am with them. They change me for the better, enable me to be something that I have never felt I have been able to be. With that being said, It makes the rejection, or seeming rejection, all the harder for me to process. This by far has been my greatest struggle, since most of the time, you can't tell people this information, because you don't want to either A. freak them out B. come off as needy or clingy or C.both. I am getting better at it, as time goes by, but it is still my greatest challenge. One that I will continue to work on with all my energy.
Crazy right? I know that I have a lot to deal with, and thankfully I have been blessed with some of the most patient friends in the world. I honestly believe that this is one of the reasons that God led me to the MTP. I have no doubt that the people that I have met since I started in the program, both in the program and out, are there to help me get myself under control. We all deal with our various problems, some better than others(me). But I, regardless of how low I get, can honestly say that I still have a ton of friends, even when it is hard to remember. I can honestly say that I would not be surprised that if these people had not come into my life, I would not still be here. They have literally saved my life on numerous occasions. I only hope that I can return the favor to them someday, little by little, to big by big. The moral of this particular story, besides hoping you can understand my head and motivations a bit better, is that though it still happens, I am getting better. It is a slow process for me, but I am using all of the tools that I have to make as much progress as I can. I thank you all for your patience and understanding, and for standing by me. Love.
It is weird, even for me, how quickly things can change with me. Thankfully, I have managed to get control over the more dangerous portion of my struggles. Suicidal thoughts have been a major problem for me for many years. I am not completely out of the woods yet, but I thankfully have been able to get a handle on how far I go. Only time can really tell if I can get complete control over it. I am positive that I can, It will just take some more time.
I will preface this next part by saying this. In the past, as in my entire life leading up to the last about 6 months, I have dealt with my attacks very poorly. I would just let it roll over me, and I wouldn't try to stop it, and just wallow in the misery of it. In the past 6 months, I have started, whenever I have an attack of any magnitude, to try and figure out what the trigger is, if there is one, and what I am feeling.
Tonight I had a mini break through of sorts. I started off today great. Life had some small hiccups, but I had a great day. Then, I was waiting for a friend to come and work out. It ended up that he showed up just in time for me to leave, because I had rehearsal. By the time I walked to the door, I was losing it, and the second I got in the car I lost it completely. I took me around 25 minutes to get myself under control, at least enough to go out in public without people asking who died. This has actually been a fairly typical example of what I have to deal with. Tonight, since I didn't know it was coming, and was all alone to deal with it, thankfully, I decided to really try and figure out what the heck was going on with me. I came to the following conclusions:
1. Since I began with the MTP, I have gained many great friends. In my head, my fantasy if you will, that meant that I wouldn't end up like I have in the past. Alone, bored, listening to other people tell of fantastic adventures. I have never been able to connect well people my own age, and so any time that happens, I seize it will all gusto.
2. In conjunction with that, I realized that each moment I get to spend with my new family, as they are really closer than just friends, is more precious to me than I can really put into words. Especially my guy friends. Those who know me know that I have never been very Masculine, nor man "Guy" friends, at least the Sports cars types.
3. My brain, when I have attacks, tells me all sorts of things, but mainly it drags up things that I see, and then shows me how it was the same in the past. I realized that I put a lot of stock into meetings, dates, appointments, and time with people. They represent to me he things that I have never felt that I had, and always wanted. A large group of friends that thought that I was cool enough to have around, to want to include me in things that they were doing. So every time that something goes wrong, a trip gets canceled, an event gets canceled, things happen that make it so thing just don't happen, My brain reverts back to a line of thinking like this. "you will never get what you want, because you can't change what is wrong with you. you will always be the same, second on the list, last on the mind. A permatag along." The diatribe begins, and just gets worse unless I stop it.
4. When I am disappointed about something, i am usually distracted enough to not check myself before it goes too far.
5. I don't like these times when I lose it. I am trying to work on becoming more of a masculine man, and these kind of incidents just serve to remind me how far I am from where I would like to be.
6. I hate feeling weak and powerless. it hurts me to think about how I don't have the control over myself that i want, that I feel too weak to do anything about it, cause the same things keep happening over and over again. I want to be able to control myself, to not these kind of things blow way out of proportion.
7.I hate that my brain can have this much power over me, even though I try to take control. I hate that there are some people who don;t seem to talk to me anymore about normal things, just when they are checking on how I am doing, and leaving it at that. I want so desperately to be what I would consider normal, without the problems that I feel make me less desirable to other, both as friends and otherwise.
8. I want to stop thinking that I am being left out, if I am not included in everything. I want to be, but, I find myself getting worked up if I even for a moment think that i am being left outside of the loop. Again, my brain goes into reverse mode.
9. There are a lot of times when my attacks happen, and I will share, usually through facebook, the state that I am in. I realized that I do this for two reasons. The first is so that I can be stopped form doing doing something stupid. At least I believe that there is someone who watches me, and tries to stop me from doing stupid things. Second is that I watch to see if the people that I most want to hear from will say or do something. I can say that many times, the best help for attacks has been a simple hug, and a kind word.
10. There area couple of people in my life that I really want to be with. Whatever the relationship may be (and for all of those who don;t fit into this category, you will never know, you have all been in it at one point or another), I crave time and attention from these people. Most of the time, it is because of how I feel when I am with them. They change me for the better, enable me to be something that I have never felt I have been able to be. With that being said, It makes the rejection, or seeming rejection, all the harder for me to process. This by far has been my greatest struggle, since most of the time, you can't tell people this information, because you don't want to either A. freak them out B. come off as needy or clingy or C.both. I am getting better at it, as time goes by, but it is still my greatest challenge. One that I will continue to work on with all my energy.
Crazy right? I know that I have a lot to deal with, and thankfully I have been blessed with some of the most patient friends in the world. I honestly believe that this is one of the reasons that God led me to the MTP. I have no doubt that the people that I have met since I started in the program, both in the program and out, are there to help me get myself under control. We all deal with our various problems, some better than others(me). But I, regardless of how low I get, can honestly say that I still have a ton of friends, even when it is hard to remember. I can honestly say that I would not be surprised that if these people had not come into my life, I would not still be here. They have literally saved my life on numerous occasions. I only hope that I can return the favor to them someday, little by little, to big by big. The moral of this particular story, besides hoping you can understand my head and motivations a bit better, is that though it still happens, I am getting better. It is a slow process for me, but I am using all of the tools that I have to make as much progress as I can. I thank you all for your patience and understanding, and for standing by me. Love.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
A Lie Of The Mind
Part of me finds it ironic that the title and inspiration for this, my second post, would come from my Script Analysis class. Most of the time, I have a hard time focusing in that class, but this last week, I managed and actually got some real, life changing thoughts from it. First though, a recap of the last two months or so. Yes it has been two months, so bear with me.
I love the Musical Theatre Program at the University of Utah. We are working hard in school to prepare for auditions for Songs For A New World, the musical that we are doing in the spring, right before the showcase. The music is so fun and moving. I am going to enjoy this, and am working hard to be ready for them. We had those auditions this last Saturday, the 20th. It was a four hour ordeal, but we all managed brilliantly. We all had our flubs, I personally was dealing with throat issues the entire time, but I had my friends there to support me, and I them. We will know the results as early as tomorrow, but definitely by Wednesday of this week. We are all nervous to see what will happen, but I mainly an just excited to be working with such talented people.
Our class load has not eased up, and I am with some of the other who are struggling a bit to get everything done. I think we manage well, and help each other out as much as we can. We are all trying to balance personal lives with school, work, and other distractions. It is like having a second family. The ironic thing is that I see them more than my real family at times. They are just like me too, dealing with some of the same issues, having the hard times. I cannot describe how much these people mean to me, and how much they inspire and lift me to great heights. I do not doubt that were it not for them, I would not be here still. At the moment, they are one of my biggest rocks, and help me to continue on, even when life gets darker than you think you can handle. I will explain more about this later.
I have finally made it a habit of going to the gym Monday through Friday, and it is entirely due to my new friends Chance and Josh, who provide daily training, and motivation, since they are both athletes( which I am not), highly attractive( which I am working on), and toned( also something I am working on). I am really starting to see the results of the hard work. My legs are amazing, if I do say so myself. I have lost almost 30 pounds, four inches off my waist, and I keep going. It is extremely satisfying, and I hope to be around 200 pounds by Christmas, and hope to have the workings of abs by my birthday.
We got our first show, the MTP, in October. We performed with a company called Vox Lumier. They take silent films, in our case The Phantom of the Opera, compose music, and have live actors dance and sing while the film plays in the background. It was an awesome experience. The music was the most difficult I have ever seen, or performed, and we did it well. It was a fabulous experience, and a great honor.
Work wise, I finally completed all of my training, which is nice, cause I hated going to all of the trainings. Now they are done, and they have me closing the store two to three times a week now. It is nice, I am trying to be the cool boss that everyone likes, but gets the work done. I think I am succeeding, we shall see.
Dating was horrible for me up till Halloween. More very typical for me experiences of one date and then the lame excuses. I was really starting to get annoyed. Then on Halloween, I decided to go west coast dancing, which I haven't done in over a year. I got there late, after coming from a different party that I left once they started opening beer upside-down. I decided to stop by and check it out. I ended up getting in a fabulous waltz with my friend Lindsey, and as I was walking out the door, got stopped by this girl, who insisted that I dance with her before I left. I did. She was a great follow, and pretty as all get out. I was flattered that she had picked me out of the crowd, much less asked me to dance. I later found out her name was Heather. I ended up asking her to come see a ballet with me later that week, and I have been seeing her ever since. She is a smart, honest, and attractive girl, who helps me in many ways. She has been one of my biggest confidence boosters on many fronts. It will be interesting to see if it goes anywhere. I hope that it does, mainly due to the fact that she is the kind of girl I have been looking to date for a while. We shall see. I am doing my best to work on being a good partner in our relationship, and though I feel I fail gloriously sometimes, i am trying hard. What will happen will happen, but for now, things are good.
As far as performing goes, I am currently in rehearsals for Ebenizer Scrooge, a Christmas ballet that I have been a part of for three years now. This year I have a much bigger part. I am a shopkeeper in the opening and closing scene, as well as Fezziwig, the Ghost of Christmas Present, and the Ghost of Christmas Future. I am very excited, cause I have fallen in love with Ballet, and look forward to putting some of my new knowledge into play on stage. I am also preparing for a second reading of my play, Pollifax. It should be an interesting evening. I am excited.
Personally, life has become a series of ups and downs. I am still relatively new at dealing with my depression. Each person deals differently, depending on how their personal attacks happen. For the sake of letting you into my head, here is what a typical attack consists of. It starts with a general feeling of blue. Sometimes it can be triggered by a comment of a friend or co worker, sometimes it just drops on you out of nowhere. Then the voices start. These voices normally sound like my voice, though sometimes in the worst of times they sound like my friends. This is where the title of this post and the play of which it refers to comes in. I will digress for just a moment.
In the play, The main character beats his wife severely, because he keeps having thoughts in his mind about her, the way she dresses, the things that she does, the places she goes. His mind tells him why she does these things, and in essence, lies to him. " oh, she is doing this cause she doesn't care for you. She is cheating on you, she doesn't love you, she wishes you were dead." In the end, he has to determine what is real and what is not.
The voices in my head, when I am in the midst of an attack, do the same thing. " You are no good. Your friends don't care about you, they just talk to you cause you are there. You aren't cool enough to invite you to do anything outside of school, where we have to be around you. You aren't talented enough to succeed. You aren't worth it to date. You are fat and ugly and always will be, no matter how hard you work. You have no reason to still be here. We wouldn't care if you were gone." The diatribe of lies strikes, and many times it presents evidence in my mind to support them. It gets really convincing, which is when I usually recognize that I am having an attack. It is a problem that I have always dealt with. I have always been an instigator. From the time that I started in school here in North Salt Lake, i have had to instigate a good majority of my social life. Most activities that I do with friends comes after I either invite them, or invite myself along. My brain preys on that now. I long to have the social life I imagined all of the people that I most wanted to be around, the kind where I had people inviting me to do things. I have always found things to do with people while I am in school, or work, or whatever. It has been when that ends, especially school, that I start to doubt my friends, especially the people that I want to hang out with. The lies that my brain tells me get more and more convincing, and that is what the battle turns out to be ninety percent of the time. A battle of lies versus the truth, perceived reality versus reality.
In the couple of months, I have been through the some of the toughest Depression attacks of my life. They have come at random times, some with triggers, and some without. There were many times when I just wanted it to end, I just wanted to be done with them, with the voices in my head, my own personal lies of the mind. There was even a time when I honestly considered suicide. Part of it is that I am trying desperately to find who I am, and what I am meant to do. Part of it is adjusting to friends, and what I want from them. Tragedy has reared its head in my life, and dealing with it has been a struggle. Part is dealing with my self-worth issues, which are deep, hard, and vicious. Part is also trying to get back to God, and dealing with that. Part is seeing people in my life that I see going down paths that I hate to see them go down, and feeling powerless to stop them.
Thankfully, I have new weapons in my arsenal. Part is my medications, though I think they don't do that much for me, just mainly taking the edge off. Part is getting back in touch with God, praying and reading my scriptures more. Part is my MTP family, who help me as I struggle by giving me a reason to keep going. Part is Heather, who has helped me start to see myself in a different light than I have been able to in the last year. She has helped me in dealing with some of my depression issues, whether she knows it or not. Part is Daniel and Jeff, who are some of my good friends. They have been a never-ending source of help, whether it be the fun lunches, the great stories, or the late night movies of great Canadian TV. Part is Josh and Chance, who are two of my best friends. They help me to feel like a regular guy, which I have never really felt before, especially with my interests. They help me to feel cool, like I actually belong. They are helping me to see the lies of my mind for what they are, lies, and are helping me to change my life for the better. Whether it be the late and long phone calls or chats on Facebook, or the numerous gym sessions, they have been there for me. I enjoy every minute that I spend with them, because of how I feel when I am with them, and I try to savor every second that I have with them. I feel invincible, like I can take the world. I feel my self-worth, and love to listen o their stories of success. I hope that I can be there for them as much as they are there for me. I work hard to be the kind of friend that they are to me. I hope that one day, I can succeed as well as they have.
So there is my life in a nut shell. I hope to be better with this in the future, but who knows, we shall see. Love you all, may you read this, and know me better man.
I love the Musical Theatre Program at the University of Utah. We are working hard in school to prepare for auditions for Songs For A New World, the musical that we are doing in the spring, right before the showcase. The music is so fun and moving. I am going to enjoy this, and am working hard to be ready for them. We had those auditions this last Saturday, the 20th. It was a four hour ordeal, but we all managed brilliantly. We all had our flubs, I personally was dealing with throat issues the entire time, but I had my friends there to support me, and I them. We will know the results as early as tomorrow, but definitely by Wednesday of this week. We are all nervous to see what will happen, but I mainly an just excited to be working with such talented people.
Our class load has not eased up, and I am with some of the other who are struggling a bit to get everything done. I think we manage well, and help each other out as much as we can. We are all trying to balance personal lives with school, work, and other distractions. It is like having a second family. The ironic thing is that I see them more than my real family at times. They are just like me too, dealing with some of the same issues, having the hard times. I cannot describe how much these people mean to me, and how much they inspire and lift me to great heights. I do not doubt that were it not for them, I would not be here still. At the moment, they are one of my biggest rocks, and help me to continue on, even when life gets darker than you think you can handle. I will explain more about this later.
I have finally made it a habit of going to the gym Monday through Friday, and it is entirely due to my new friends Chance and Josh, who provide daily training, and motivation, since they are both athletes( which I am not), highly attractive( which I am working on), and toned( also something I am working on). I am really starting to see the results of the hard work. My legs are amazing, if I do say so myself. I have lost almost 30 pounds, four inches off my waist, and I keep going. It is extremely satisfying, and I hope to be around 200 pounds by Christmas, and hope to have the workings of abs by my birthday.
We got our first show, the MTP, in October. We performed with a company called Vox Lumier. They take silent films, in our case The Phantom of the Opera, compose music, and have live actors dance and sing while the film plays in the background. It was an awesome experience. The music was the most difficult I have ever seen, or performed, and we did it well. It was a fabulous experience, and a great honor.
Work wise, I finally completed all of my training, which is nice, cause I hated going to all of the trainings. Now they are done, and they have me closing the store two to three times a week now. It is nice, I am trying to be the cool boss that everyone likes, but gets the work done. I think I am succeeding, we shall see.
Dating was horrible for me up till Halloween. More very typical for me experiences of one date and then the lame excuses. I was really starting to get annoyed. Then on Halloween, I decided to go west coast dancing, which I haven't done in over a year. I got there late, after coming from a different party that I left once they started opening beer upside-down. I decided to stop by and check it out. I ended up getting in a fabulous waltz with my friend Lindsey, and as I was walking out the door, got stopped by this girl, who insisted that I dance with her before I left. I did. She was a great follow, and pretty as all get out. I was flattered that she had picked me out of the crowd, much less asked me to dance. I later found out her name was Heather. I ended up asking her to come see a ballet with me later that week, and I have been seeing her ever since. She is a smart, honest, and attractive girl, who helps me in many ways. She has been one of my biggest confidence boosters on many fronts. It will be interesting to see if it goes anywhere. I hope that it does, mainly due to the fact that she is the kind of girl I have been looking to date for a while. We shall see. I am doing my best to work on being a good partner in our relationship, and though I feel I fail gloriously sometimes, i am trying hard. What will happen will happen, but for now, things are good.
As far as performing goes, I am currently in rehearsals for Ebenizer Scrooge, a Christmas ballet that I have been a part of for three years now. This year I have a much bigger part. I am a shopkeeper in the opening and closing scene, as well as Fezziwig, the Ghost of Christmas Present, and the Ghost of Christmas Future. I am very excited, cause I have fallen in love with Ballet, and look forward to putting some of my new knowledge into play on stage. I am also preparing for a second reading of my play, Pollifax. It should be an interesting evening. I am excited.
Personally, life has become a series of ups and downs. I am still relatively new at dealing with my depression. Each person deals differently, depending on how their personal attacks happen. For the sake of letting you into my head, here is what a typical attack consists of. It starts with a general feeling of blue. Sometimes it can be triggered by a comment of a friend or co worker, sometimes it just drops on you out of nowhere. Then the voices start. These voices normally sound like my voice, though sometimes in the worst of times they sound like my friends. This is where the title of this post and the play of which it refers to comes in. I will digress for just a moment.
In the play, The main character beats his wife severely, because he keeps having thoughts in his mind about her, the way she dresses, the things that she does, the places she goes. His mind tells him why she does these things, and in essence, lies to him. " oh, she is doing this cause she doesn't care for you. She is cheating on you, she doesn't love you, she wishes you were dead." In the end, he has to determine what is real and what is not.
The voices in my head, when I am in the midst of an attack, do the same thing. " You are no good. Your friends don't care about you, they just talk to you cause you are there. You aren't cool enough to invite you to do anything outside of school, where we have to be around you. You aren't talented enough to succeed. You aren't worth it to date. You are fat and ugly and always will be, no matter how hard you work. You have no reason to still be here. We wouldn't care if you were gone." The diatribe of lies strikes, and many times it presents evidence in my mind to support them. It gets really convincing, which is when I usually recognize that I am having an attack. It is a problem that I have always dealt with. I have always been an instigator. From the time that I started in school here in North Salt Lake, i have had to instigate a good majority of my social life. Most activities that I do with friends comes after I either invite them, or invite myself along. My brain preys on that now. I long to have the social life I imagined all of the people that I most wanted to be around, the kind where I had people inviting me to do things. I have always found things to do with people while I am in school, or work, or whatever. It has been when that ends, especially school, that I start to doubt my friends, especially the people that I want to hang out with. The lies that my brain tells me get more and more convincing, and that is what the battle turns out to be ninety percent of the time. A battle of lies versus the truth, perceived reality versus reality.
In the couple of months, I have been through the some of the toughest Depression attacks of my life. They have come at random times, some with triggers, and some without. There were many times when I just wanted it to end, I just wanted to be done with them, with the voices in my head, my own personal lies of the mind. There was even a time when I honestly considered suicide. Part of it is that I am trying desperately to find who I am, and what I am meant to do. Part of it is adjusting to friends, and what I want from them. Tragedy has reared its head in my life, and dealing with it has been a struggle. Part is dealing with my self-worth issues, which are deep, hard, and vicious. Part is also trying to get back to God, and dealing with that. Part is seeing people in my life that I see going down paths that I hate to see them go down, and feeling powerless to stop them.
Thankfully, I have new weapons in my arsenal. Part is my medications, though I think they don't do that much for me, just mainly taking the edge off. Part is getting back in touch with God, praying and reading my scriptures more. Part is my MTP family, who help me as I struggle by giving me a reason to keep going. Part is Heather, who has helped me start to see myself in a different light than I have been able to in the last year. She has helped me in dealing with some of my depression issues, whether she knows it or not. Part is Daniel and Jeff, who are some of my good friends. They have been a never-ending source of help, whether it be the fun lunches, the great stories, or the late night movies of great Canadian TV. Part is Josh and Chance, who are two of my best friends. They help me to feel like a regular guy, which I have never really felt before, especially with my interests. They help me to feel cool, like I actually belong. They are helping me to see the lies of my mind for what they are, lies, and are helping me to change my life for the better. Whether it be the late and long phone calls or chats on Facebook, or the numerous gym sessions, they have been there for me. I enjoy every minute that I spend with them, because of how I feel when I am with them, and I try to savor every second that I have with them. I feel invincible, like I can take the world. I feel my self-worth, and love to listen o their stories of success. I hope that I can be there for them as much as they are there for me. I work hard to be the kind of friend that they are to me. I hope that one day, I can succeed as well as they have.
So there is my life in a nut shell. I hope to be better with this in the future, but who knows, we shall see. Love you all, may you read this, and know me better man.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Post #1: Hopefully, this is not a one time thing. :)
So this is my first attempt at this, so we shall see how it goes. I am going to attempt to use this blog to let everyone know a couple of things. 1; how the MTP at the University is evolving, going. 2: What my show life is, what shows I am doing and their progress. 3: How my personal life is going.
1. So the MTP, which I will refer to frequently, is the Musical Theatre Actor Training Program. I am in the Freshman class. The program has not been at the University of Utah for over 20 years, so it is a great blessing to be a part of it. I get to share my talents and learn and grow with 25 other extremely talented people, 13 girls and 12 guys. So far, We are taking Classes for Jazz Dance, Ballet, Singing, and Acting. I currently am also taking script analysis, which is a fun class. I have class Monday through Friday. We also are working out, most of us, everyday, so soreness is the name of the game at the moment. :) We have amazing instructors, and we are a very varied and talented bunch. We all had to sing for each other last week, and it was amazing to hear everyone. We are going to rock. We already have our first gig. We have been invited to do a performance with a group that tours around the country. They come to major theatres and show the silent movie Phantom of the Opera, on three large screens, while dancers perform onstage and they have a group, us, sing in Latin like a movie soundtrack. We are performing at Kingsbury Hall, which is a very well known theatre here in Salt Lake. We are very excited.
2. I just finished my first show, the Western Regional Premier of Hairspray, about two weeks ago. It was one of the most incredible experiences of my life. I got to work with some incredibly talented people, actors, directors, and choreographers. I got to be a dancer on the Corny Collins show, my characters name was Troy, and I was also a lead vocalist for the Ensamble, which meant that I was not on stage for about 5 numbers in the show. I was very busy, but it was so much FUN!!! Now that it is over, I am getting ready for Phantom, plus I have an Audition for the Mormon Tabernacle Choir Christmas Concert coming up in two weeks. I don't think I will have a problem getting in, but in this business, who knows. :)
3. On a personal level, Life is okay. For those of you who don't know, I was diagnosed with Depression about 6 months ago. i have been slowly learning how to deal with it. It mostly manifests in extreme loneliness, which makes nights like these suck like none other. It is an interesting problem, Depression. Never underestimate the power of friendship and company, because sometimes they are the best medicine. I quit one of my two jobs, I worked at the Roof Restaurant till two weeks ago. I still keep my post at the University Bookstore, running the Post Office. I love it there. It is a great environment to be working in, and I am grateful to have it. In essence, I have changed my life completely in the last two months. I am working to bring my chaos of a life into balance. So far, I have not been successful at all, but with time I hope to succeed. Now to the fun stuff, i am in the midst of planning a series of wedding cakes for one of my sisters friends. it is going to be fun. :)
1. So the MTP, which I will refer to frequently, is the Musical Theatre Actor Training Program. I am in the Freshman class. The program has not been at the University of Utah for over 20 years, so it is a great blessing to be a part of it. I get to share my talents and learn and grow with 25 other extremely talented people, 13 girls and 12 guys. So far, We are taking Classes for Jazz Dance, Ballet, Singing, and Acting. I currently am also taking script analysis, which is a fun class. I have class Monday through Friday. We also are working out, most of us, everyday, so soreness is the name of the game at the moment. :) We have amazing instructors, and we are a very varied and talented bunch. We all had to sing for each other last week, and it was amazing to hear everyone. We are going to rock. We already have our first gig. We have been invited to do a performance with a group that tours around the country. They come to major theatres and show the silent movie Phantom of the Opera, on three large screens, while dancers perform onstage and they have a group, us, sing in Latin like a movie soundtrack. We are performing at Kingsbury Hall, which is a very well known theatre here in Salt Lake. We are very excited.
2. I just finished my first show, the Western Regional Premier of Hairspray, about two weeks ago. It was one of the most incredible experiences of my life. I got to work with some incredibly talented people, actors, directors, and choreographers. I got to be a dancer on the Corny Collins show, my characters name was Troy, and I was also a lead vocalist for the Ensamble, which meant that I was not on stage for about 5 numbers in the show. I was very busy, but it was so much FUN!!! Now that it is over, I am getting ready for Phantom, plus I have an Audition for the Mormon Tabernacle Choir Christmas Concert coming up in two weeks. I don't think I will have a problem getting in, but in this business, who knows. :)
3. On a personal level, Life is okay. For those of you who don't know, I was diagnosed with Depression about 6 months ago. i have been slowly learning how to deal with it. It mostly manifests in extreme loneliness, which makes nights like these suck like none other. It is an interesting problem, Depression. Never underestimate the power of friendship and company, because sometimes they are the best medicine. I quit one of my two jobs, I worked at the Roof Restaurant till two weeks ago. I still keep my post at the University Bookstore, running the Post Office. I love it there. It is a great environment to be working in, and I am grateful to have it. In essence, I have changed my life completely in the last two months. I am working to bring my chaos of a life into balance. So far, I have not been successful at all, but with time I hope to succeed. Now to the fun stuff, i am in the midst of planning a series of wedding cakes for one of my sisters friends. it is going to be fun. :)
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)