I Can('t) Do Hard Things

I've always hated hearing people say "You can do hard things".  I have struggled with doing difficult things my whole life.  I moved home from Idaho in 2023 because life got too difficult.  I have quit jobs because they were too difficult. Most recently, the difficult thing I couldn't do was finish a semester of school.  School got difficult, my anxiety took over, and I dropped out of school four weeks before the end of the semester.  

I look back at where I was years ago, though, and see all of the difficult things I was able to do.  Moving out to Idaho in the first place, not once, but twice.  Attending three different colleges.  Stepping out of the food and retail industry and starting my career as a manny.  These were all difficult things.  Sure, I quit most of the things listed above (still going strong as a manny!), but it took a lot for me to try.  I'm not one to step out of my comfort zone, yet I've found myself leaving my zone on a regular basis.

I don't know if I'll ever finish college.  I don't know if I'll ever be able to leave Pennsylvania again.  But I do know that I need to keep an open mind to those options.  I can't do hard things, but I keep trying anyway.  Maybe someday it will all work out.

Backwards Anxiety

 

I feel as though my life has always consisted of taking one step forward, quickly followed by two steps backward.  In 2018, I took my biggest step forward by moving to Idaho to continue my education.  In 2019, I took a couple steps back by moving back home to Pennsylvania.  While in Pennsylvania, my mannying clientele grew, my anxiety almost completely vanished thanks to lifestyle changes and a wonderful therapist, and I was the happiest I had been in years.  Then I took the giant step of moving back to Idaho in 2022.  Since being back in Idaho, I find myself stepping backwards again.  But one of those backward steps worked out well for me.

After moving back to Idaho, being unemployed for a month, and digging myself into a hole of financial burden, my anxiety decided to take over.  It didn't help that I had just cut one of my medicine dosages in half.  But me being me, I didn't want to go back to the full dosage.  In fact, after three months and with permission from my doctor, I took two steps backwards and went off that medication completely.

The two or three weeks after discontinuing that prescription were miserable.  I was always trembling, constantly on the verge of tears, and extremely sensitive to everything around me.  I hoped and prayed that all this would go away once my body was done going through withdrawals.  

Miracle of miracles, it almost all went away (except for the occasional trembling).  The confidence I had while I was in Pennsylvania returned.  Aside from the medication, nothing in my life has changed.  All the stressors are still there, but I am now able to manage them.  I have become comfortable asking for help.  I am almost always in a better mood at work.  I'm feeling happy again, for the most part.  I just had to take a step back.

My life is nowhere near where I want it to be.  The anxiety is still there, especially in regards to what life has in store for me.  I'm confused about my future, about what my next steps are.  I now understand, though, that it is okay to take a couple steps back.  Those backwards steps might just lead me to the greatest next step imaginable.

*Note:  Although being taken off of a medication worked for me, it may not work for everyone.  I was on that medication for 17 years.  It worked really well for many of those years, but as time went on, I'm guessing that my body built up a resistance to it.  Please talk to your doctor before discontinuing your medication.

On the Struggle Bus

Five days, on and off.  That's how long my most recent anxiety attack lasted.  A whole lot of "woe is me" building up in my system, making me fear for my future, thoughts racing at the speed of fright.  The funny thing about my anxiety is that, not only am I on the struggle bus, I'm the one driving the bus.

Who would have thought that all I needed was some backseat drivers.  My coworkers caught me shaking and looking nervous at lunch.  They gave me a pep talk and offered me assistance.  They never tried to take the steering wheel from me.  They just offered direction.  That's all I needed.  I have been alright ever since.

I have always struggled with asking for help.  I never wanted to be a charity case.  My coworkers assured me that I was not a charity case, that we're meant to help each other in our times of need.  In the past couple weeks, I have received a lot of guidance, food, and anonymous money donations from coworkers.  The assistance and care has opened my eyes to the fact that there are people around me who truly care for me.  (Another funny thing about my anxiety: thinking everyone just tolerates you, nothing more.)  I will be forever grateful to the amazing people I work with.

My new goal in life is to be a backseat driver.  The struggle bus doesn't offer a smooth ride, but I know now that I can help others on this field trip called life.

 

Putting Myself Out There

In the last week of August, I packed up all of my stuff and moved back to Idaho.  It was a long drive for just me and my cat, but I got to see some family and friends on the way.  On September 6, I moved into my studio apartment.  For the first time in my life, I was living by myself, with my closest family members about three hours away.  For the first time in my life, I was truly alone.

Before leaving Pennsylvania, I had been in therapy for about a year.  One of the big issues my therapist and I tackled was socializing, which, even now, is terrifying for me.  But I took all of my therapist's suggestions to heart, I practiced continuing conversations with people I already knew, and I felt good about meeting new people in Idaho.

I have been in Idaho for almost three months, now, and I have gone way out of my comfort zone putting myself out there for everyone to see.  I can't help but laugh at how putting myself out there looks so much different from other people putting themselves out there.

I attend church every Sunday.  I sit alone.  A few people talk to me.  I continue the conversation by asking follow up questions.  I am putting myself out there.

I attend church parties.  I sit alone.  A few people talk to me.  I continue the conversation by asking follow up questions.  I am putting myself out there.

I attend a class aimed towards people my age.  Everyone is much older.  I sit alone.  I am putting myself out there.

I eat lunch with my colleagues at work.  I'm not alone.  I join in on the conversation.  I laugh.  I am putting myself out there.

It doesn't look like much.  I know I could be doing a lot more, but I'm proud of the level of effort I'm currently putting into socializing and meeting new people.  I am way outside of my comfort zone even just thinking about conversing with others.  But I do it anyways.

The last three months have been lonely and difficult, but I continue to put myself out there.  One of these days, I will find deep and meaningful connections, but I have to keep trying.  I have to keep putting myself out there.

 

iPhilip 30

 

On March 27th of this year, the iPhilip 30 made an appearance.  This particular iPhilip was to be the greatest yet.  But, as is often the case, life got in the way.  Here is iPhilip's story in his own words:

"My 30th year of life began with the loss of my emotional support kitty, Zoe.  She was just 11-years old.  I decided that I didn't want to wait to adopt another cat.  So I eventually adopted a beautiful tortoise hair cat that I named Zadie.  She hated me for a long time, which, obviously, didn't provide me with the emotional support I needed.  Months later, she is my little shadow and loves to be petted.

"Back in April, while I was in the process of adopting Zadie, a difficult decision arose (unrelated to Zadie's adoption).  I could make it easy by continuing to do what I was already doing; but in so doing, I would be causing myself more and more anxiety.  Or, I could make the more difficult, but correct choice, which is what I did.  I made the more difficult choice, knowing that my life would be miserable for awhile.  I knew people would hate me for the choice I made.  I knew my life would temporarily become a living hell.  But I made the choice anyways.  What I didn't know was that my social media and blog would be stalked.  I didn't expect failed attempts to have me taken down at every turn.  I began regretting the choice I made, even though I knew it was the right one.

"I began seeing a therapist.  She has been wonderful for me and has helped me through a lot.  But I still have a long way to go.  Even nearly half a year later, I am struggling with the decision I made.  If given the chance to do it over again, I would still make the same choice, even though I question it almost every day.  Doing the right thing isn't always easy.

"Just last week, I was in a dark place, a darker place than I had ever been in before.  I slowly got out of it using the techniques my therapist gave me.  I'm still not at 100%.  It may be a while until I'm there again.  But I'm trying."

When asked to describe himself, iPhilip 30 said that he is "big-hearted, but broken."  He remains hopeful and is continuing to look for ways to improve himself.  He is doing a lot of self-care activities and putting down boundaries.  We at iPhilip are certain that things will only get better.

Overthinking the Past Week (March 7-13, 2020)

I know it's not Thursday, but here's a new post anyways.

This past week has been quite the roller coaster ride.  It started last Saturday at work when I began having pain in my ribs.  I took some pain killers and kept going.  About half an hour later, my legs got really weak and shaky.  I left work a few hours early.

On Monday, I called off work and went to Urgent Care.  I was still experiencing rib pain and a lot of weakness.  After some x-rays and an EKG, it was determined that the weakness was possibly a result to a mass I have growing on my pituitary gland.  I've known about this mass since 2013, but it hasn't grown or caused any worries for me over the years.  

As for my rib pain, let's just say that I was in need of some laxatives.

Also on Monday, my  younger sister gave birth to her first child.  Yay for nephew number three!

On Tuesday, I left work early.

On Wednesday, the weakness and shakiness was still going on.  I was given the day off of work.  I saw my primary care provider and he ordered some blood work and an MRI.  He also asked me about my history of chest pain.  He said that the mass on my brain could be affecting my prolactin levels.  In other words, if my sister ever got tired of nursing, I might've been able to help out.  The blood work came back normal, though.  I'm not lactating!  Thank goodness!  And I am scheduled to get an MRI in a little over a week.

My anxiety has been so high this week that I seemingly don't even care anymore.  I've thought of every outcome to my issues.  I've thought of dropping out of school to help pay for medical bills, which there is still a chance might happen.  I've thought about the possible minor surgery I would need if the mass turns out to be a tumor.  I've thought of everything.  Now I'm so numb to the anxiety, the only thing I can think is "Bring it on".

Morning Madness

I was being swallowed up by the darkness, as if hands creeping from the shadows were dragging me down to the fears that lived inside my mind.  My thoughts turned to dread, hopelessness, and death.  I was alone on my own little planet without a light to see the way, all the stars burned out.  Madness was taking over.  I truly wished I was dead.

Saturday morning, I woke up to racing thoughts, mostly about failure, debt, and my future.  I was overcome with a feeling of dread of what my life was to become.  I had no money, no hope to pay for my tuition, anxiety over doing online courses, and felt like a failure for having to move back in with my parents.

When I finally made my way out of bed and got my breakfast, my mom came out and asked me to do the dishes when I was done eating.  Still overwhelmed by emotion and fear, I covered my face and just started crying.  I added embarrassment to the list of emotions going through my mind.

The next day, I awoke to the same thoughts swimming around in the front of my brain.  Within two hours, I was on the verge of tears three times.  I kept telling myself that I was better off dead, but was too afraid to actually act out on those thoughts.  I told myself that I needed to be admitted to the hospital, but I don't currently have good insurance.  My anxiety meds finally kicked in, and I was better.  Not 100%, but better.

That evening, I spoke to my parents about the things that were worrying me.  I dropped two of my three online courses, which was a huge relief.

I am doing much better now, back to 100%.  

This isn't easy to share.  It's not easy telling people that you were on the verge of giving up on life.  But I am sharing this for a reason.  On the outside, I may look like I'm doing really well.  But the outside is not a reflection of the inside.  Talking with my parents was a huge help for me.  I would urge anyone who has gone through an episode like I experienced to talk to someone.  Ending your life and giving up is never the answer.  Talk to someone you know will listen.  You can overcome the darkness.

I Am A Masculinist

One day, when I was in sixth grade, I had to give a presentation.  I was so nervous, I started to cry.  My teacher took me out into the hallway, looked me in the eyes, and said "Stop crying, it's time to grow up".  I was shocked.  I was clearly stressed out, and here, a teacher that I happened to like, was scolding me instead of comforting me.  My embarrassment from crying in front of my friends and peers turned into an even greater self-consciousness.  From that moment on, I tried to avoid showing what I thought to be 'unmanly' emotions.  You can imagine how difficult this was to do while living with an anxiety disorder.  My first reaction to a lot of things was to run and hide, to cry, or to do all of the above.
As a teenager and a young adult, I have still struggled with owning up to having anxiety.  Men aren't supposed to be afraid of anything.  And here I am, terrified of people, water, and cars.  I felt like I didn't fit in with the other boys.  To this day, I have more female friends than I do male friends.  I had to find friends who accepted me and 'unmanliness'.  This is why I'm a masculinist.
When I say I am a masculinist, I'm not talking about how men are superior to women, because they're not.  I'm not talking about being a fit, sport loving, COD playing womanizer who drinks beer as a hobby.  I'm talking about being true to myself and my gender.  I'm a sensitive, fun-loving, book worm.  I enjoy tennis, volleyball, and baseball, just for fun.  I like Nintendo games, especially Pokemon.  And I love helping others through their struggles.  I want to live in a masculinist world, where men aren't embarrassed and discouraged to talk about their feelings or to cry when they're afraid.  A world where women are respected, children are loved, and hearts are whole.  I don't know if I'll ever see a world like this in my lifetime, but I can do my best to help develop it for future generations.

Getting Back in the Groove

As I mentioned last week, I have been attending a recreational therapy program called THRIVE.  It is aimed towards people with depression and/or anxiety and helping them cope with life.  One of the main purposes of THRIVE is creating goals and seeing them through.  We meet in accountability groups at the end of each session to see how we're doing with our goals.
Since I started attending THRIVE, I have noticed that I have become much more motivated and happier.  My younger brother said he noticed the same thing.  Since beginning THRIVE, I have been going to the gym, I changed up my eating habits, started meeting with a wellness coach, and started truly enjoying life.  I still get anxious and depressed, but I now have a better grip on reality.
One week at THRIVE, we talked about finding our flow.  Flow is experienced when you are doing something you absolutely enjoy and that seems to come naturally for you.  Time seems to slow down and nothing else matters.  I experience flow the most when I'm brainstorming photo ideas and executing those ideas.  Photography is my thing.  Time slows down and nothing but my ideas and photos matters.  Flow is when we are feeling the most at ease.
I am truly grateful for the THRIVE program and all that I have learned there.  I was beginning to think that a change in medication or dosage was the only thing to get me out of the funk I was in.  But I can attest that therapy, along with medication, is the best way to get back into the groove of things.

A Great(er) Depression

What can I say?  Idaho is just a depressing place.  I spent almost all of February through April hating life and hating myself.  I hid it well.  On the outside, I was a happy young man with a couple small issues.  But inside, I didn't know who I was anymore.  I went through all the motions: get up, eat, go back to bed, go to work, go back to bed.
When school started, things began to change.  My depression was still there, but not as intense as it had been.  I actually had things to do with my day.  I woke up in the morning, went to class(es), went to work, then back to bed.
My therapist, who is amazing, by the way, recommended a program on campus called THRIVE (I'm not sure why it's all caps, it doesn't stand for anything).  THRIVE has helped me so much.  It's a recreational therapy group that helps me and others in my situation learn how to deal with life.  Because of THRIVE, I have become motivated to go to the gym three days a week, to meet up with a wellness adviser to help me with my nutrition, and to simply see the good things in life.  I'm more motivated to try new things.  I'm not nearly as anxious as I normally am, and my depression is completely gone.
I guess my message is this:  Get out of your comfort zone and try something new.  I'm still taking my medications as prescribed.  But instead of increasing my dosage, my doctor suggested THRIVE, socializing, and trying new things.  I realize this is much easier said than done, but it works.  I have found myself again.  I am in a much better place.

It Always Works Out pt. 2

In my last post, "It Always Works Out", I talked about my financial troubles and asking for help.  Something that has been weighing heavily on my mind is the mental stress I was going through.  My anxiety levels were through the roof, and I  was more depressed than I had ever been in my life.  During this time, a thought came to me.  I truly understood why people end their own lives.  As depressed as I was, I never got to the point where I wanted to commit suicide.  But I was fully aware of why others would or already have.  

My life had gotten to a point where there was no hope left for me.  I know it was just my anxiety talking to me, but I believed it for awhile.  There was no way I was ever going to get out of the financial hole I had dug myself in to.  At least, not alone.  And that's why I called my bishop and accepted free food storage.  I knew exactly who to talk to help me solve some of my problems.  And I made it through because of the assistance I received.

In past posts, I have compared life to many different things.  In this case, life is like a road leading to the sunset.  My road hadn't ended yet.  Hopefully I still have many miles to go before I reach my sunset.  My message to you is to not give up, no matter how difficult life gets.  Take some time right now to think of who you can reach out to if your life hits a low point.  No one wants to see your road end too early.  Keep going strong.

Wanted vs. Needed

Something I have struggled with a lot for the past years is feeling wanted.  Probably the most difficult thing about having anxiety is the fear of what other people think about me.  I tend to over think things when I am around others.  Why did I say that?  Why am I still talking?  They're probably waiting for me to shut up so they can leave.  And when I'm by myself, the thoughts still come.  Why am I such a boring person?  What are my talents?  Why is it so hard to like me?  Acknowledging the fact that these thoughts stem from my anxiety makes it a little bit easier for to socialize.  But the thing I still can't help but wonder is:  Why do I feel needed, but not wanted?
I feel like being wanted is much more important than being needed.  I have people asking me favors all the time.  Other than that, they really don't talk to me.  I'm only a friend when someone needs something.Then I started Mannying.  For the first time in a long time, I actually felt wanted.  The boys and I developed a wonderful relationship.  I didn't realize just how wonderful it was until it was time to leave them.  All three boys got stressed out and I went into the worst and longest depression I'd ever been in.  I often wondered why I was feeling the way I was.  I realized it was because I wasn't used to feeling wanted.
Now, out in Idaho, I have a Mannying job two days a week.  My highlight of the week is knocking on the door and hearing my name being called out excitedly.  And when the parents come home and it's time for me to leave, the kids lock the doors and tell me I can't leave.  I actually have to sneak out of the house some nights.  But I love it!  The kids want me around.  They want me around.  It's a great feeling.
What I think everyone should remember is to treat everyone like they are important, because they are.  Next time you need a favor from someone, make sure you also make an effort to get to know that someone better.  Try harder to be their friend.
At this point in my life, I'm trying to figure out how I can change so people will want to be around me.  As much as I love the kids I work with, it's kind of embarrassing saying that my best friend is two decades younger than me.  I just need to break out of my shell called anxiety.

Anxious for Love

I took the boys bowling a couple months ago.  When it was time to put our names into the system, this is what we came up with:
14-year old: Zilla25
6-year old: *His name*
Me: Phat
And then there's the 12-year old: Forever Alone
I'm not sure if he genuinely thinks he'll be alone forever or if he was poking fun at me.  Knowing this kid, he was probably teasing me.  
Since moving out to Idaho, I've been thinking a lot about relationships and marriage.  BYU-Idaho's nickname is BYU-I Do, after all.  But as my anxiety has grown and I noticed that I couldn't even ask someone for directions without trembling, I realized that marriage may not be happening for me anytime soon.  Just the idea of speaking to a stranger makes me want to hide my head in the sand.  I was thinking the other day that I need to find an introvert like myself.  But then I realized that would be nearly impossible.  Where do introverts go to meet?  Serious question here!
Anxiety, though the largest, is only one factor that contributes to my unwed status.  I also suffer from pride and pickiness (Sounds like a Jane Austen novel!).  The ideal woman must be aware of her surroundings.  I look around campus and see girls with their faces being sucked into their phones.  That can't be healthy!  I have a flip phone for a reason.  I like to be aware of what is going on around me.  A smart phone would just be a distraction for me.  I'm not ashamed to admit it. 
I also want someone closer to my age.  It hasn't been confirmed yet, but I'm pretty sure I'm the oldest student on campus.  (I know I'm not, but it certainly feels that way!)  With almost ten years between me and the Freshmen, I worry that I'll end up as what my grandma calls a "Cradle Robber".  I want someone within at least four or five years of my age.
Lastly, I need a woman with common sense.  I find myself rolling my eyes a lot nowadays.  Maybe it's because I'm so much older than a lot of the other students.  Or maybe common sense is just dead.
Along with common sense comes common courtesy.  My brother and I had a game night last week with some of his friends.  Two of his friends are currently madly in love with each other.  They sat in the middle of the table playing their own game while everyone else played around them.  I can respect that they are smitten with each other.  It's kind of cute, actually.  But be aware of what is going on around you.  I want someone who will be madly in love with me, but still be aware of the people around them.
Maybe I'm asking too much.  But my mom once told me that it's okay to be picky.  If I'm going to spend the rest of eternity with someone, I want to be sure that I found the right someone.
Future Mrs. Kretchman, if you're out there, I'm currently in Idaho.  Come look me up.  Please.

Anxious Grins

The boys say that I am evil.  Every Thursday morning during the Summer, I drag them to the library to see a show.  One week a singer performed.  Another week, a bug expert showed off some of his collection.  This week, Grins and Grins Comedy Show visited.  (They're pictured above.)
The Grins (yes, that is actually their last name!) put on a show full of jokes, juggling, and jabbering.  Mrs. Grins really likes to talk!  The show didn't really hold the boys' interest.  Not even when Mr. Grins brought out his Chinese yo-yo and did tricks.  The boys just looked bored throughout the entire show.
Until the finale.
Mr. Grins looked out into the back of the audience, searching for an adult to come up and assist him and his wife.  "How about you, in the blue shirt and glasses!"  He was staring right at me.
I went up and introduced myself, trying to stay calm.  Mrs. Grins lead me in a hula dance that got a little crazy.  It ended with us doing the Lawnmower.  Mr. Grins then brought out two mini surf boards (one pictured above) and a large tin can.  He then proceeded to put the surf boards flat on the floor and he and I "surfed" the waves.  He then got the can and put one of the surf boards on the can.  He told me step on up while he and his wife held my hands.  In their other hands were hula hoops.  They got me balanced, put the hula hoops around my body, and swapped hula hoops.  That was easy enough.
Mr. Grins pulled me to the side while his wife continued entertaining.
"Do you have any back problems?" he asked.  Oh boy.  Anxiety levels rose a little more.
After saying that I have a perfectly healthy back, Mr. Grins proceeded to stand on the surf board and get a good balance.  Mrs. Grins then jumped onto one of Mr. Grins hips.  I was then asked to jump onto the other hip.  I did so.  Mr. Grins balanced for about ten seconds before having us jump off again.
End of show.
I went back to the boys, who were all smiles at this point.  The 14- and 12-year old both asked me how my anxiety was.  (Have I mentioned how awesome these boys are?)  All I had to do was show them my shaky hands.  They laughed, but then asked me if I would be alright.  Aside from my knees knocking on the way to the car, I was perfectly fine.
I have always had great anxiety about being the center of attention.  So being somewhat forced into being in the spot light (especially during a comedy show!) was terrifying for me.  But I made it out alive.  And I realized that, despite what may have been going through my brain, there was never anything to worry about.  Except getting dropped by Mr. Grins.
On the way home from the library, I asked the boys what their favorite part of the show was.  They all said "The finale!"

I Am Not My Body pt. 3: I Blame Myself

A few years ago, some members of the church I attend were passing around a color quiz.  This color quiz assigned you a color based on your answers about your personality.  The color you are assigned supposedly tells people what they can expect from you.  For example, if I remember correctly, someone who is a White is calm and easy going.  I was tempted to take the quiz.  Until I heard someone justify someone else's actions using a color.
"Of course he wouldn't mop the floor.  He's a blue!"
I'm fairly certain she was being sarcastic.  But I decided not to take the quiz.  I didn't want a reason to justify my actions.  And I definitely didn't want others assuming they knew me based off of a color quiz.
The same is true about mental illness.  In part two of this series, I briefly discussed labels.  How I have ADD, not that I am ADD.  Now onto the next step.  Just because I have ADD and anxiety doesn't mean I can justify my actions because of my ADD/anxiety.
When I was younger, I would blame my mental illnesses for my actions.  I was too afraid because of my anxiety.  I couldn't focus because of my ADD.  It's true that my anxiety causes me to fear things.  It does occasionally influence my decisions.  But my decisions are just that:  mine.  I am in control of my actions, not my mental illness.
All these school shootings that have been happening are, unfortunately, a good example who is to blame.  So many people blame the mental illness.  Others blame the gun.  I blame the person.  It may be true that their mental state may have driven them to committing these awful acts, but ultimately, it was their decision.  The insanity plea does not sit well with me.
Believe it or not, the most important step in conquering mental illness is taking ownership of your actions.  Understanding that your illness does not dictate your life.  If this were the case, then there would be no need for medication or therapy.  You would just be willing to let your mental illness control your life.  But that's not the way it is.  I am on medication.  I have visited with therapists.  With help, I am conquering my mental illnesses.  When something goes wrong, I want the blame to be on me, not my damaged brain.  I am not my brain.  I am not a color.  I am not my body.

A Funny Thing, Anxiety

Some people are afraid of heights.  Some people are claustrophobic.  Some people are uncomfortable being in the dark.  Some people are terrified of spiders.
Those people are weird.
But then I remember that I'm afraid of people.
That I'm weird.
Heights don't bother me.  In fact, I love high places.  They offer a unique view of the world.
I'm not claustrophobic.  I prefer tight spaces.  Put me in an open field all by myself.  That's how to freak me out.  At least in a tight spot you can see what all is around you.
I'll admit, the dark does me uncomfortable.
Spiders are cool!  I mean, not when you're driving on the highway and a spider slides down its web into your line of vision.  But everywhere else, spiders are cool.
People are terrifying!  People are capable of thought and judgement, and that's scary.  I often wish I could read minds just so I knew if and what people were thinking about me.  Eye contact is especially scary.  You don't exist until you make eye contact with someone, right?
Anxiety is a funny, though.
As much as I don't want to be around people, I also crave attention.  I want to fit in.  But that's hard to do when eye contact makes me shudder.  But when given the choice between public speaking and bungee jumping into a pit of snakes, the snakes always win.  (And no, I've never been offered that choice before.)
I find it funny when people tell me I'm easy going and relaxed.  I've had people tell me that I just go with the flow.  It's easy going with the flow.  It's more difficult being the flow.  And being easy going helps avoid conflict.  Everything I do is to keep me from being a social outcast.  I am the quiet guy in the group pretending to fit in.
Carson Daly, host of The Voice, recently admitted to having severe social anxiety.  Carson Daly, whose job it is to stand in front of huge crowds of people and help put on a show.  But if you look closely, you'll see.  He is constantly on the move, tapping a foot or a finger, soldiering on.  What a guy!  Able to do what he loves, even though he's terrified of what he loves.  He's someone to look up to.  Hopefully I can reach that level in life.  That's all I want.

Superheroes

In a world where everyday people go about their business, a super villain rises up out of the shadows.  When all hope seems lost, a group of superheroes stands up for what is right.  Meet the Mhavengers!  (MHA = Mental Health Awareness)
The leader of the Mhavengers is Captain Caution, whose anxiety leads her in safety and thinking things through.  She is followed by Kid Koncentrate, whose ADHD helps him outmaneuver bad guys.  The last member of the team is Artbringer, whose depression helps him feel things more deeply than most.  Together, the Mhavengers bring hope and joy to a scary world.  These are the adventures of the Mhavengers.
Let's take a look at Captain Caution first.  There's a reason she is the leader.  Her ability to think things through keeps her and her team safe.  Rather than acting spontaneously, Captain Caution looks for the best outcome in battle.  She looks at all of her options.  Every option has pros and cons.  Which option has the least cons?  Captain Caution's power of Racing Thoughts helps her to make quick decisions.  She has never lost a team member because she thinks things through.
Captain Caution's weakness, though, is her own mind.  Racing Thoughts is a super power, but also a weakness.  When one's mind is working at the speed of light, it's easy, and inevitable, to go from positive to negative thoughts in a millisecond.  Captain Caution uses the power of optimism when making decisions.  This helps her stay on a positive train of thought.
Next up is Kid Koncentrate.  His ADHD makes him a difficult target to hit.  Always on the move, Kid Koncentrate is always one step ahead of his foes.  And with his super power, Wandering Eyes, Kid Koncentrate is able to notice obstacles that his teammates might have missed.  His impulses are kept in check by Captain Caution.  But when things are looking bad, Captain Caution lets Kid Koncentrate loose.  Enemies won't even know what hit them.
Kid Koncentrate's weakness, like Captain Caution's, is his super power.  His Wandering Eyes may lose focus at times.  When told to be on the look out for something, Kid Koncentrate often fails to find what he is searching for.  He notices all the details except those that are important for the task at hand.
The last member of the Mhavengers is Artbringer.  Artbringer's depression leaves him feeling emotions very strongly.  He can perfectly empathize with the people he is saving.  By putting himself in their shoes, Artbringer is able to find a way to overcome the challenges set before him.  Artbringer's super power is Creativity.  This power helps Artbringer get his team through tough times.  By thinking outside of the box, Artbringer is able to bring villains to justice using the element of surprise.  Everyone has their own unique style of creativity.  Whatever Artbringer creates is sure to leave villains speechless.
Artbringer's weakness is his emotions.  By feeling things so deeply, Artbringer is often brought down by the weight of his feelings and the feelings of others.  He finds that he is unable to continue on in the battle.  But he always rises above this.  And that is a super power in its own right.
The next time you or someone you know complains about a mental disorder that can at times seem like a plague, open up the adventures of the Mhavengers.  These people are real.  Their powers are real.  The woman you walked past in the mall might be Captain Caution.  The 5th grader fidgeting at his desk might be Kid Koncentrate.  And the man painting in the park to fight off his demons might be Artbringer.  Together, they are making the world a better a place.

On Monday, I Became the Villain

This past Monday was a very stressful day for the 6-year old and me.  It started out like a normal day.  When I arrived at the house, the 6-year old was watching TV.  I got him some breakfast, got him dressed, and we went on with our day.  Noon came around, so we ate lunch.  Then, it was time to get ready for the school bus.  It was like something snapped in the 6-year old.  He didn't feel well all of a sudden (which is a regular occurrence.  He's not a big fan of school).  He threatened to take all his clothes off so he didn't have to go to school.  He ran around the couch like a wild man...er...boy.  School was absolutely not an option for him.
Meanwhile, I'm stressing out because I too had to go to class.  I simply can't miss a day of math.  I get confused easily enough without missing a day.
After chasing the 6-year old around, I finally caught him and set him on my lap.  For a such a little guy, he is really strong, squirming and fighting while I just tried to talk to him.  I told him that if he didn't go to his school, he would have to suffer through my 75-minute long class.  He was willing to sit through my class.  That is how much he hates school.  So, I made up my mind.  I got my white board and some books and decided to take the 6-year old to class with me.  He willingly put on his shoes and jacket and went to the car.
I started to pull out of the driveway.  Cue anxiety:
What if my professor doesn't let him in the classroom?  What will my boss think?  I could lose my job!  I love this job.  I can't lose it!  But what do I do?  I'm taking him to my class.  No, I can't do that.  I'll stay home with him.  No, I can't miss my class.  My thoughts just kept racing.  These thoughts felt like they lasted a lifetime, but in reality, it only took me a few seconds to go out of my mind.  I finally reached a decision.
I pulled the car back into the driveway and told the 6-year old that I needed to grab something from the house.  He was busy drawing a picture on the white board.  I went into the house and grabbed the 6-year old's backpack.  He didn't even notice me get back in the car.  We drove the five minutes to the elementary school.  It wasn't until we were passing the noisy kids out at recess that the 6-year old realized what I had done.
"What are you doing?!" he asked in a high pitched squeal.  "Did you trick me?"  That's  when my heart broke.  I did trick him.  I lied to him.  After over a year of me teaching the boys not to lie, promising them that I would never lie to them, I became the villain.
We walked into the school, shock evident on the 6-year old's face.  I signed him in while he left the office, a staff member walking with him.  His face is still burned into my memory.  Shock, disbelief, fear.  It was too much for me to handle.
But don't worry.  This story has a happy ending.
The next day, Tuesday,  I arrived at the house to find the 6-year old waiting for me at the front door.  I pulled up to the house.  He smiled and waved.  I smiled and waved back.  We had a great day, he and I.  He told me that he had a good day at school on Monday and that he wasn't mad at me.  This is why I prefer working with children over adults.  Children are so quick to love and forgive.  I felt like my anxiety had turned me into a real life Maleficent, but this young child showed me love and forgiveness.
Even though he wasn't mad at me, I made sure to apologize for lying to him.  I explained that going to school is very important.  I explained that I didn't want to go to school either, but I did anyway because I knew that it was important to keep learning.
Monday was a very trying day for me.  But I learned things.  Mostly about myself.  I try not to blame things on my anxiety.  My actions are my fault, not my anxiety's.  But on Monday, the day I became the villain, my anxiety really did take over.  And it was terrifying.

I Am Not My Body pt.2: Labels

Last week, while doing his homework, the 13-year old made a discovery.  He knew that he had ADD, but he never really understood what the letters stood for.  All he understood was the 'attention' part.  He came downstairs proclaiming "I know what ADD is now!  I have a disorder?" to which his mother came up with a brilliant reply:
"You don't have a disorder.  You have a superpower.  Your ADD is your cape."
My boss mom and I then tried to explain to the 13-year old the good things that his ADD gave him.  He is better at multitasking, he is very intelligent.  And what amazes me is that this bright young man gets straight As in school.  That in itself is a super power to me.
I was diagnosed with ADD about a year or two after graduating high school (which explains why I almost didn't graduate.).  For the next year or two, I blamed everything on my ADD.  I would tell people, "I'm ADD.  It's what I do."  Looking back now, I realize how ridiculous I was being.
First of all, I am not ADD.  I have ADD.  A mental disorder is not a label.  A person isn't bipolar.  They have a bipolar disorder.
Think of it this way.  I get migraines.  Therefore, I am a migraine.  Doesn't make sense, right?  So why label people with mental disorders as ADD/ADHD.  I am not a migraine.  I get migraines.
So, "I'm ADD" was the first wrong thing I said.  The second was blaming my ADD for the way I acted.
Again, I am not ADD.  My mental disorder does not control me.  I have ADD.  I also have a cat.  And a car.  As difficult and expensive as it gets to keep my cat in good health or my car in good shape, I am still in control.  If my cat gets sick, my life may cycle around her.  If my car breaks down, my life changes, but only until the car is fixed.  If my ADD tells me to look at the stain on the ceiling that looks like Robert de Niro instead of listening to my professor's lecture, I tell my ADD no.  Mr. de Niro can wait.
I am not ADD.  I am not anxiety.  I fight to control my ADD and anxiety.  These are my superpowers, that I am in control of.  I am Philip.  I am not my body.

48-Hours

Every morning when I wake up, the first thing I do is take my medication.  I take two pills to help lessen my anxiety and help me get through the day.
I've missed doses here and there before, but usually of just one of my pills.  I may have pill A, but I forgot to refill pill B.  A couple weeks ago, however, I went two days without taking either pill.  That's 48-hours of me, alone with my thoughts and fears.
I had already called for the refills to be...well...refilled.  But, you know how it is.  Life has a way of grabbing you by the ears and whisking you away.  My life had become pretty hectic.  So I forgot about my refills.

Day 1
The first day of being unmedicated went fairly smoothly.  I had to drive a friend to a doctor's appointment.  I acknowledged the fact that I didn't have any pills to take and told myself I would pick them up on the way home.  That didn't happen.  Life had me by the ears.
It was a perfectly normal day, up until the evening.  I began to feel light headed and nauseous.  My arms and legs got a little shaky.  This had happened before.  Just a side effect of missing one of my pills.  No worries.  I'd pick the pills up in the morning.

Day 2
This was a rough day for me.  It started out like a normal day, but as the day went on, I began to get more and more agitated.  My thoughts began to randomly race around like my brain was trying to win the Indy 500.  I was sitting there, eating dinner, asking myself how I had survived this long.  How was I ever going to pay for school?  I think I need a new car.  Where would that money come from?  Why am I still single?  (To be fair, I'm always asking myself that question.)  I became so overwhelmed with fear that I just wanted everything to end.  I wanted to go to bed and never wake up again.  Yeah, it was pretty intense.  On top of that, the nausea, shakiness, and light headedness had only gotten worse.

The next day, I woke up, ate breakfast, and went straight to the pharmacy.  I was still pretty anxious, but by dinner time, I was back to being myself again.  I had, and have, the same doubts and fears, but they no longer consume me.
The important to thing to note from my experience is that I realized I was not okay.  I realized I needed to get my medication.  I have heard of people, young and old, who decide they are all right, that they don't need to take their medications anymore.  It could be true.  Some people actually do outgrown their mental illnesses, or learn how to live with them.  But the choice to quit medicating is not yours to make alone.  You should always talk to your doctor first.  Get there opinion.  Schedule a follow-up appointment so your doctor can see for themselves how you are doing.
After the 48-hour experience I had, I now know that, as much as hate to admit it, I need my medicine to get through my day.  The next time I run low on pills, I will be grabbing my own ears, thank you very much, and taking myself to the pharmacy.