Slaying those Dragons – Part Four

In February of 2016, I had a total meltdown, a little over a year before I passed out at my dining room table and even though I didn’t feel it go off, I knew that my ICD had fired, and I ended up in the hospital for a few weeks, this started my mind thinking that I was going to die, setting things up for my meltdown.

This was the worst manifestation of my anxiety/depression/PTSD ever, I was a total mess and couldn’t even be trusted on my own so I ended up living with my sister for almost three months.  Convinced that I was going to die, I totally gave up on life and couldn’t care for myself, and yes at that point I even considered suicide but didn’t have the courage to go through with it.  I ended up in counseling again, this time with a Social Worker who practices CBT (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy) which was a Godsend!

Unlike conventional psychotherapy, CBT does not concern itself with the past, it focuses on your thoughts, feelings, and actions in the now, and teaches you tools to assess and change them.  My CBT counselor, Melissa, was the best thing to ever happen to me and I progressed rapidly, too rapidly I think, I would have benefited from more sessions.  A few months of CBT and I felt good as new, and armed with my new tools I set off on my own to work the program, so to speak.  I did well, for a little while at least I did my journal, broke into silly songs at any given time, and I smiled a lot.  I felt great and like most people in my situation, I thought I was cured and stopped using the CBT tools.

Recently there was another crisis, partly because I stopped doing what I should, and partly because of a whole bunch of circumstances which popped into my life over a short period of time.  Much of this crisis was a crisis of faith, I stopped believing in myself and in my Higher Power, there was also the self-care issue which reared it’s ugly head again, and a short foray in online gambling which I nipped in the bud as soon as I realized it was becoming problematic.

Realizing that I needed help again, I reached out to my sister, to a crisis counselor and even called the crisis line when I felt overwhelmed.  I am currently in conventional counseling, in the process of getting back into CBT, and a recovery plan was set in place which I intend to follow diligently.  These are valuable tools but this time I want to slay the dragons of depression, anxiety, and PTSD once and for all so I added a few unconventional tools to my arsenal, and guess what, they are helping immensely. Here are some of them.

1- Writing Therapy:  I am a writer and so I write but most of what I write usually is more contemporary like fiction or general interest, and I include some feelings, but recently I focused my writing on my feelings.  What a blessing this has been.  Writing this series/mini-memoir has been very therapeutic to me.

2- Bibliotherapy:  Reading the right books has helped me to focus on the positive aspects of life.  I have reread, You Are a Badass, by Jen Sincero, this time applying the principles to my life, other great reads included, Living Big, and, Thank and Grow Rich, by Pam Grout.  I would highly recommend a course of bibliotherapy for anyone who is struggling with any kind of dragon whatsoever.

3- Gratitude Therapy:  I’ve completed two gratitude challenges, one in which I had to write twenty-one things I was grateful for, for twenty-one days, and the other a seven-day challenge where I had to write seven things every day for seven days that I was grateful for in the future, looking back at my current situation and seeing things resolved.  They say it takes twenty-one days for a new habit to take hold, and gratitude has definitely taken hold of my life.  I have extended my expressions of gratitude to my own Facebook page, ending each day with a gratitude list of three things I am grateful for.  These gratitude challenges were the most powerful tool so far in my arsenal against my dragons.

What happens next, I don’t know!  I will keep doing my best, gathering and applying tools, and hope that once and for all I have slain those dragons.  My truth is out there, do with it as you want, I wrote this on the advice of a friend and I’m truly grateful for having done it, it has helped me immensely to write it.  If my story inspires even just one person to reach out for help, or helps even one person to understand the struggles faced by people with a mental illness, then I consider myself wonderfully blessed, and I’m truly grateful

Love you all!

Luc

Slaying those Dragons – Part Three

I didn’t stick with counseling too long, I started feeling better and I pulled out, huge mistake!  I did okay for about six months afterward, the depression had settled and life for every practical purpose was good, there were problems but they were manageable.  I stopped doing what I needed to do and the depression started creeping in a little at a time, and before too long, I was in its full throes again.

I started isolating again, was always tired, stopped taking care of myself and my home, and I’m not exaggerating when I say that my home was a disaster area.  It shames me to share this just as much as it shamed me to have to go to counseling again and admit what I thought was my weakness, so I didn’t!  I suffered in silence for a few years, making excuses when my family or friends wanted to come over, and buried myself in my shame and guilt. 

While I was secretly praying to die, that was my answer to attempted suicide, I put on a brave face whenever I had to face the world, and acted as if everything was absolutely perfect in my life.  I could have, and should have won an Oscar for that performance, I was just that good at it, nobody suspected anything and I could return to my messy home without fear of being bothered.  And this was my life for a few years.

Prayers are powerful, it doesn’t matter whether your prayers are good, bad, or indifferent.  When they say, ‘be careful what you pray for’, they seem to know what they are talking about because my prayers to die did not go unheeded.  On November 30^th, 2007, I suffered a sudden cardiac death, and was clinically dead from five to seven minutes. Now, I don’t remember anything about that day, or the week before, or a few weeks after, but the trauma of death still affects me to this day.

They discovered that I had a heart condition which made me prone to arrhythmias, or unusually fast heartbeats, and that I could quickly jump into fibrillation, when the heart just flutters and can’t pump any blood.  I was sent to St. Michael’s Hospital in Toronto where they implanted an ICD (Implantable Cardioverter Defibrillator in my chest, yes, I now come with my own paddles, stand back everyone.

On January 18^th, 2008, my fancy schmancy ICD malfunctioned, giving my heart five shocks I didn't need, and sent my heart into a tailspin.  This trauma would result in a diagnosis of PTSD about a year later.  During the year following the misfire, I spent more time in a hospital bed than I did in my own, not because I needed to be there but because anxiety had set in and I misconstrued every irregular heartbeat, cramp, or pain in my chest (overlooking the fact that I had a cracked sternum), and basically camped out in the Emergency room.

It took the courage of one brave doctor, Dr. Groh, to stand up to me and tell me that there was nothing wrong with my heart but if I kept it up there would be.  She noted her observations and sent them to my family doctor who started the process of assessing my depression and anxiety.  The result was a course of pharmacotherapy which helped me immensely.

Now, I know that some people staunchly oppose pharmacotherapy, advocating instead for more natural treatments, and I will be the first to admit that nutrition and exercise are just as crucial as medication for the treatment of depression, anxiety, and PTSD.  I will not engage in an argument about supplements vs medication because what works for one may not work for another, when it comes to physical health and mental health, I think a balance of both is extremely beneficial.  Pharmacotherapy was a very valuable tool in helping me deal with my condition and I would recommend it despite the naysayers.

When all is said and done, the important thing is to get well, and I think we owe it to ourselves to keep an open mind, and try every solution before we dismiss them as quackery.  Next Sunday, in the final installment, I will discuss my latest bout of depression, and the unconventional but effective tools that I found helpful in dealing with it.

Love you all!

Luc

Slaying those Dragons – Part Two

In May of 2004 I had a heart attack, not a massive one mind you, it was relatively mild but serious enough to stir up some psychological problems.  In all candor, this was the start of many of the bigger symptoms of depression, the depression was already there but it got a little worse.  Until then, I really felt like I was ten foot tall and bulletproof, the heart attack cut me down to size and reminded me that I was a mere mortal, just like everyone else, what a shock to my system.

Until then, I had been living erratically, busying myself more than anybody should ever be busy if they want to maintain a healthy life.  I was working full-time, active on several boards and committees, and my life was go-go-go, all the time.  I would grab a burger and fries in between meetings and catch a nap when I could, sleep and a healthy diet was at a premium.  I used all my vacation time on board activities, never taking time for myself, the surprise really wasn’t that I crashed, it was that I lasted so long before I did.

After the heart attack I became obsessed with living to the fullest, I mean really obsessed.  I should have slowed down but I didn’t, I just made trivial changes to my eating and sleeping habits , and kept on going.  What did change however, was my penchant for self-care, and for the condition of my home.  Hey, I had to sleep didn’t I, after all I had a bad heart, I really didn’t but self-pity overruled the doctor’s opinion.

My fear of dying didn’t kick in full-force until my sister Suzanne died suddenly of heart complications on September 26, 2005.  I was close to my sister and the grief over her death really threw me into a tailspin.  It was then that I reached out to a counseling agency for help.

People who need counselors tend to fear them, I know I did.  The fear of having to discuss your life with a stranger is normal, but it’s necessary if recovery is to take place.  Counseling has been one of the greatest tools in my ongoing battle with depression and PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder).  A few months with a counselor and things started falling back into place for me. 

It’s hard, I know, to reach out when you are feeling stuck, but reaching out is the most important thing to do at that time.  At the time, my family was dealing with their own grief and their own issues, and I had entangled them so much in my web of self-pity that I didn’t feel it wise to reach out to them so I reached out directly to a counseling agency.  It didn’t really matter who I reached out to, I needed help and help was there.  If there’s nobody that you feel you can reach out to, family, friend, etc., there are crisis counselors, and crisis lines available in just about any location, and they are trained to help you, I know, I’ve used both in my current crisis and they helped me a lot.

I cannot emphasize enough how important it is to reach out to someone when you feel you’ve run out of options, reaching out is tool number one in my toolbox, and if there’s no one for you to reach out to, reach out to me at rivet.luc@gmail.com.  It would be my privilege to set up a time convenient for both of us so that we could talk.

Talking to someone who understands, is tool number two, whether it be a friend, a crisis line, a counselor, a support group, or someone who has been through the same situation, talking helps a lot.  You don’t have to suffer in silence, reach out and touch someone, as the phone company slogan says.

Love you all!

Luc 

Slaying those Dragons – Part One

Where does it all begin, I guess I may never know, there are hints in my childhood that I was different, that maybe, just maybe things weren’t quite as okay as I pretended they were, but what was the precipitator, I really don’t know.  My childhood wasn’t normal, though I blame nobody but myself, sure there were problems growing up but my brother and sisters seem to have coped with them much better than I did.  My choice of coping mechanism was to isolate myself, to lock myself away in the privacy of my room and pretend that I was anybody other than myself.  Those are my earliest memories so obviously it began earlier than that.

I guess it really doesn’t matter where and when it all began, what matters is that for most of my life I struggled with some form of depression or another.  There have been periods of reprieve but being unaware of what was wrong with me, those periods were mostly short-lived.  From isolating myself in my room, I mastered the art of pretending, and pretending that everything was okay became second nature to me, so for the most part, nobody knew that I was struggling.

Imagine wearing a one hundred pound weight on each shoulder, and you just might start to understand how debilitating depression is, except the weight is actually in mind, and you get so used to carrying it around that you forget it’s there, or at least pretend that it isn’t.  Some would say that denial is a common symptom of depression but I would argue that it isn’t, we are very much aware of its presence, we know something is wrong with us, but we are afraid to tell anyone for fear of being judged as crazy. 

Crazy, yes, I’ve felt like I was crazy at times, and it caused me to retreat even deeper into a mind that kept telling me I was.  The hamster wheel, the damn hamster wheel, keeps spinning round and round, injecting more and more lies into your troubled mind.  Thoughts like, I’m not worthy, I’m not good enough, I’m too fat, I’m too dumb, etc. filled my waking hours, shattering every ounce of self-esteem I had, destroying all traces of self-worth and self-respect.  Believing those lies, I gave up, stopped caring for myself, for my appearance, and for my living environment, and the more I stopped caring, the more I believed those lies. 

In all truth, the only time I felt good was when I was doing something for others, helping them with their struggles and needs became my drug.  I sought other comfort as well, and found it in drinking.  I was introduced to drinking at a very young age, and from that introduction until the very end of my drinking, I can honestly say that I hated the taste but loved the feeling.  Alcohol did something to me, it was good at first, giving me the ability to step out of myself and have fun but that period of my drinking was short lived.  Near the end of my relatively short drinking career, alcohol turned me into a whiner and complainer, made my lips loose, and got me in trouble.  I quit drinking on August 8^th, 1991, and haven’t had to pick up a drink since then.

Addiction often times goes hand-in-hand with depression because we are open to anything that helps us forget, that pulls us out of ourselves, and distracts our minds for any period of time. Whether we turn to substances, gambling, shopping, or even work addiction, we quickly learn that it’s a temporary ‘fix’, and not really an effective one.  Unfortunately, kicking our addiction to the curve is often times a harder process than dealing with our depression.

Depression really is like a dragon, in its active phase it spews streams of fiery thoughts into an already overburdened mind, and when the flame dies down, it knocks you down with its massive, powerful tail, but there is hope, the dragon can be slain.  Starting Sunday, I will focus on the tools that have helped me not only with depression, but also with other struggles I have faced.  See you Sunday!

Love you all!

Luc

Slaying Those Dragons - Introduction

There are things I’d never do as a writer, things I would never say or publish, things such as gossip, or anything that may shine a dark light on the people I care about, which is just about everyone, but I have no qualms about writing about my own struggles, my own monsters!  I know that some people think that I cross the line between what should be public and what should remain private when I blog, and I’ll concede that perhaps I do, but it’s always done with diligence and care, and for what I believe is a valid reason.  The thing is, too many people choose to remain silent on issues which could help others realize that they are not alone, that there is hope, I choose not to be the silent one!  Besides, it’s therapeutic for me to share what I am, or have been going through.  I offer these sharings, not for pity, but for information, in hopes that they may help someone who is suffering in silence.

My life is not different than most peoples’ lives, I have great days, in-between days, and bad days, but I have learned some valuable tools along the way to help me cope, though there are still many tools left to discover and if you happen to know one or two, by all means, please share them with me.  Now, I could simply blog a list of these tools I’ve learned, some would say that’s nice, others would say I’m crazy because without context these tools will mean nothing to the still suffering person.  The only context I am free to give is that which comes from my own life, everybody else’s life is none of my business unless of course, they give me permission to talk about it.  For now, at least, I will stick with my own life, my own struggles, and my own solutions.

This blog post, although somewhat different from my others, is an introduction to a series of blog posts that I intend to publish on Wednesdays and Sundays over the next few weeks, highlighting different struggles I have faced and how I am, or have resolved them.  This series is dedicated to you, my readers, and to the countless people facing their own struggles, may peace and serenity find you now!

Love you all!

Luc

Oh Silly Me

It’s time to change things, and I’m not just talking about socks and underwear, although both those things are important, I’m talking about bigger, better, changes.  In the greater scheme of things, I am responsible for my humdrum life, nobody else is, and I’m the only one who can transform it into something absolutely wonderful.  These changes are not necessarily new, I’ve lived many of them in the past but somehow moved away from them.  My life was healthier and happier when I was living those changes, and it’s definitely time to put the sparkle back in my life.

I had a motto back then, nothing fancy, but it worked for me.  My motto was, “If it’s got to be done, it’s got to be fun!”  I had a coffee mug which read, “Life is too important to be taken seriously,” and that mug kept me grounded in the right attitude to have fun, no matter what.  I would use silly voices when complaining, just to remind myself not to take myself so seriously, and I would sing a repertoire of silly songs while I worked, much to the peril of my coworkers who were generous enough to say they didn’t mind even though I couldn’t sing.  I always walked around with a smile in those days, something that is lacking in my life these days.

I would dress sharply, and tell myself in the mirror every morning how lovable I was, and guess what, I came to believe it!  I felt more comfortable around people and had a good social life, things I miss dearly.  I told jokes, acted silly, said good day to the people I passed in the street, or anywhere for that matter, and I had goals and aspirations that I actively pursued, and life was wonderful

Whether it was depression or complacency which moved me away from those things, I’m not certain, but whatever it was, it has to stop.  Life was good when I was doing those things and it’s time to bring them back.  It’s time to get my groove back and let my silliness show.  According to Pam Grout, author of, Living Big, E Squared, and E Cubed, “The word silly was originally a Middle English word, ‘sillig’, that meant blessing.”  That would explain why when I let my silliness come out to play, I feel so blessed.

I’m not quite ready to march down the street singing silly, yes, she suggests that, not yet anyways but you can bet your booties that from this moment forward, I’m incorporating fun and silliness back into my life, and my old motto, ‘If it’s got to be done, it’s got to be fun,’ is born again as my new motto.  If you happen to overhear me sing while working, or if you see me dancing down Ontario Avenue, or if you hear me complaining in a silly voice, don’t judge me, join me!  We can all use a little fun in our lives, can’t we?

Love you all,

Luc

An Attitude of Gratitude

I open my eyes in the pitch darkness, I purposely keep my room dark since I am a shift worker, and the first thought to enter my mind is, I feel good, wow!  I haven’t woken up feeling good in a while, what an awesome feeling.  I turn on the lamp and sit up, and then I remember the instruction from Pam Grout’s, Thank and Grow Rich, so a little late but better than never I guess, I tell myself that something absolutely awesome is going to happen today, I smile and get out of bed.

What exactly is this awesome thing that will happen in my life today, I don’t know, and I don’t care, I’ll take whatever awesomeness comes along, whenever it comes!  All I know is that I believe it is coming, and that’s good enough for me.

Pam’s book is only one of many tools which have found me recently, tools aimed at teaching me the importance of gratitude in my life and in my healing.  There’s also Joe Vitale’s, Ultimate Law of Attraction Library, audio program, I’ve gotten as far as the section dealing with gratitude, and there’s a wonderful group led by Christopher Jones where I have undertaken to make a list of twenty-one things I am grateful for, for twenty-one days.  All these, and numerous other ‘teachings’have brought gratitude to the forefront of my life, and of my heart, and I am reaping the reward of healing.

I’ve been struggling with a bout of depression, not as bad as it was a year and a half ago, although it has definitely been present since then, and had lost touch with gratitude in my life.  Gratitude is where I needed to be and obviously the Universe, and God has led me here, and the results have been amazing.  I’ve really gotten into this Gratitude thing and I feel wonderful.

As I write this today, I am filled with gratitude for many things which I always took for granted, and I find that I can even be grateful for things like my depression which has prompted me to make necessary changes in my life.  Gratitude has been my lifeline, along with my amazing family and friends, whom I’m deeply grateful for, and I’ve decided it’s going to remain in my life for years to come.

Love you all!

Luc

Slaying the Recurring Monster

I’ve shared in the past about my struggle with major depression and how I conquered it but it turns out I didn’t conquer it after all, I just knocked it out for a few rounds.  Ittt’s Baaack!  I guess it never really went away, I just got good at pretending it wasn’t there, although I still mostly isolated and neglected myself and my environment, I put on a brave face and acted as if everything was okay with the world.  Denial is a great thing, isn’t it?

Depression is this big ugly monster that creeps into your life uninvited, and so in a way it’s befitting that I would finally acknowledge that it was there on Halloween day, trick or treat.  There aren’t any treats with depression, just tricks but I have a supportive family, and supportive friends and that is a treat enough for me.  I am grateful for all my friends and family today!

Unlike the last time, I have a better awareness of the help that is out there, and I’m not afraid to reach out, unfortunately, many people with depression don’t have that luxury.  I am determined to do whatever I can to finally defeat the monster once and for all, no matter how long it takes, and no matter what I have to do!

There is a crisis, there always is, and whatever comes of it I accept, and move on.  I may be judged, there is quite a stigma attached to mental health and its effects, but I know that the love and support of those who matter most to me will see me through the criticism.

While it was necessary for me to elaborate a little on my state of mind as I write these words, my biggest hope with this blog post is to help people understand that depression is very real, appearances aren’t always as they seem, and until crisis hits, people may not be aware that they are depressed.  Please be aware of the signs of depression and do not hesitate to intervene as depression can be a very serious issue.

I am certainly no expert on depression, and all I can offer you is my own signs, which denial caused me to overlook, these are: withdrawing from people, neglecting responsibilities, changes in personal appearance, a messy home, shame, etc..  There are so many more signs that I couldn’t possibly list them all, even if I knew them.  If you suspect depression, speak firmly and frankly with the person but do not judge them, they need your love an support if they are to overcome their condition.

For anyone facing depression, my thoughts and prayers are with you.  Do not be afraid to reach out to someone you care about, talking about it was my greatest release, and that’s where the healing starts.  If you don’t know who to trust, do not hesitate to contact me, we can help each other through this.  Depression may be a big monster but we have within us the ability to be Monster Slayers!

Love you all!

Luc

With a Thought and a Prayer

I have a dear friend who is struggling with some heavy duty health concerns at the moment and my thoughts and prayers are always with her.  There are those among my friends that think thoughts and prayers are lame and that only real action can make a difference, I beg to differ.  I believe that thoughts and prayers are real actions, that the human mind is so powerful that thoughts and prayers can heal any condition or situation.

I need look no further than my own history to be convinced of the healing power of thoughts and prayers.  Back in November of 2007, death had me in its grip, I was clinically dead for five to seven minutes, and survival should have meant brain damage, but I had a whole community of people praying for me and I made it through remarkably.  Go ahead and scoff but I’m a firm believer in the power of thoughts and prayers!  There have been times when faith in myself has been challenged, and times when I felt powerless over circumstances in my life, but there has never been a time when I didn’t believe in a Power far greater than myself able to see me through any situation.

This Power, which I choose to call God, isn’t the same God I grew up with, the Old Man in Heaven spying on me to see whether I ate my broccoli or not and judging me because of it, no, God for me today is an unlimited and unfailing energy that always responds according to principles and laws, the greatest of which is love.  This is not as metaphysical a concept as it seems, it correlates with the fundamental teachings of Christ, whom I love and believe in, that God is always present and that faith is always rewarded.

Thoughts are prayers, and prayers are powerful!  I have faith today, and I know that my faith reaches God who moves Heaven and Earth to answer my prayers.  Regardless of appearances, I know, feel, and believe that God is right there where Anita is and that my thoughts and prayers bring fruitful results.  Today, I’m sending out thoughts and prayers to all who need them, and I’m doing so believingly, absolutely certain that as Jesus said, these prayers are being answered!

Love you all!

Luc

Abracadabra

It’s Thursday morning, my day off, and I was up before the birds, what’s up with that?  I’m working on my third cup of coffee, my fingers are itching to start writing, and a million crazy thoughts are racing through my head, yep, it’s a writing day if I ever had one.  These days don’t come often, most days I struggle with getting those fingers going.  I’m grateful for days like today, beta-blockers and all, these days really get my adrenaline pumping.  Look out world, Luc is on the warpath, ready to defeat the enemy, writing block.

I’ve started three blog posts and scrapped them all, my inner critic is busy this morning but I won’t give in, I have a fire in my belly and I’m ready to roll, I can do this, I believe!  As I write this, try number four, I remind myself that this is not a coincidence, I’ve asked the Universe for a day like this, and the Universe delivered.  Chalk another one down for the Law of Attraction.

I read two wonderful books by Pam Grout, E-Squared (E2), and E-Cubed (E3), I cheated, I read them both thoroughly before trying the experiments, I believe you’re supposed to discover the experiments one at a time but I like to know what I’m working towards before I begin, just one of my many character defects.  The books are a series of experiments aimed at proving that there is a creative energy, accessible to all, that we can use to improve our lives. 

There are nine experiments per book and today is a result of book one, E-Squared, experiment four, the Abracadabra Principle, where you get to ask the Universe for something you want and give it forty-eight hours to deliver, at the time of this writing, it’s been thirty-five hours since I asked.  I asked for it, and I got it, lock, stock, and barrel.

Although the principles which are set out in the experiments are not new to me, I can certainly use a refresher, so I intend to conduct each experiment with diligence and care, and so far I haven’t been disappointed.  I’ve believed in the power of faith and belief for a long time now but I’ve allowed some fears and doubts to impede my results, these experiments I hope will put me back on track.

It all starts with accepting today, this writing day, for what it is, one in a series of blessings that my Higher Power seems to like endowing me with, and having faith in greater things to come.  I have many great blessings in my life, an amazing family, awesome friends, a nice home, and a job I love, but there’s always room for more so bring it on.  I celebrate today with much gratitude, and I know that my blessings cup will always overflow with things that matter most to me.  Life is one beautiful blessing after another, I believe!

Love you all!

Luc

Life is a Story

Life is like a story in constant need of revision, it requires hard work and dedication, and depends on conflict and resolution in order to move the story forward.  Some chapters bring joy, others bring devastation but each chapter brings hope for a satisfying conclusion.  Some people ‘pants’ life, in other words, they live it by the seat of their pants, accepting whatever comes along and working with it, while others plot every detail and work from there, I’m an ‘in-betweener’, I ‘pants’ some and plot some, and hope for the best.

My life story is far from complete, thank goodness, hopefully the deadline is extended for years to come, I keep plugging away at it and hopefully I get it right.  Some chapters are set in stone, they are beyond changing and that’s okay, I may not be able to change them but I can change the impact they have on the story as a whole.  I may not like those chapters very much but I don’t regret them because they were necessary in order to bring my life story where it is today, which is not a bad place really.

Until recently, I’ve been complacent in creating my life story, I’ve been ‘pantsing’ it to the limit, tolerating come what may, and allowing my past to dictate my future, the result, ho-hum.  Like writing, creating a life story is easier when we acquire and implement certain tools, and it’s those tools that I’ve been busying myself with lately, with amazing results.  I’ve been plotting my life, not to the minutest detail but detailed enough to give me something to focus on, and immersing my plot in confidence and faith, and my life story is getting better because of it.

Each day begins a new chapter with new challenges, and trust me, somedays those challenges are great, yet I don’t feel overwhelmed by them because I know that my confidence and faith is great enough to overcome them.  I wish I could describe the feelings of peace and serenity which have replaced fear and doubt in my life but I can’t, words escape me. 

I am so deeply grateful for my teachers, not mystic sages, okay maybe one or two of them, but real people facing very real challenges whose strength and courage inspires me.  Thank you Becs, thank you, Anita, thank you, Guy, thank you Ken and Carol, and thank you, Rachel, you have all touched my life in a special way and I am forever grateful for the part you play in my life story.

Love you all!

Luc

Let’s Talk About Mental Health

A year and a half ago, I was in the grips of major depression, all faith and hope were gone, and I really believed I was going to die, I wanted to die.  There were dark clouds of pessimism and despair hovering over me, and it shames me to say that I wasn’t even able to look after myself properly.  My home was a disaster area, I had poor hygiene, and I would cry for no reason at all.  I was a wreck!

There was a crisis, there always is, it didn’t precipitate the depression, that was already there, but it precipitated the need for action.  Only one other person knows what I am about to share publicly, I was desperate and had pretty well resolved to disappear, to go away and end my life peacefully somewhere where I wouldn’t be found.  Selfish of me, I know, but rational thinking wasn’t my strong suit back then, but a lucid moment did find me and I reached for the phone.  The rest, as they say, is history.

It’s painful to remember those days, and it isn’t easy to share, but on this, World Mental Health Day, it seems appropriate to end the stigma and share my story. 

Even though one in five Canadians suffers from a mental illness at some point in their lives, we don’t talk about it.  The stigma is so great that those suffering from mental health issues would rather suffer in silence than risk being judged by those they love.  Wouldn’t it be great if the whole world started talking about it in a caring and compassionate way, how many lives could we save, how much misery could we avert?

My own story ends well because people were willing to listen when I was ready to talk.  The love and support from my family and friends helped me to cope with my illness and brought me to the right people, places, and things to help me recover.  Although my life is not perfect today, depression still rears its ugly head once in a while, on most days I am genuinely happy, and when I’m not, I know that I have a network of people who really care to turn to.

It takes more than medication to cure mental illness, it takes an entire community of caring individuals, adequate resources, and informed supports.  Chances are someone you know is dealing with a mental health issue, be the friend they need, and talk about it!

Love you all!

Luc

Lost and Found

There was a time, in the late seventies, when the best I could possibly hope for was to breathe in and breathe out.  My teen years were marred with low self-esteem, self-contempt, and self-depreciation, and the natural functions of living zapped all of my energy and ambitions.  Thoughts of death were common, and if I had any courage at all, I wouldn’t be here writing this today.

I was lost in every sense of the word, a loner with no hope, no faith, and certainly no ambitions.  I would spend my free-time alone in the solitude of my room pretending to be anyone other than who I was.  I had dreams, far-fetched dreams, which even I didn’t believe in, but I pretended away anyways, living out my dreams in the deep dark recesses of my mind.  It was a long shot for sure, but sometimes long shots pay off, and something absolutely wonderful happened.

In 1979, I had just turned sixteen, old enough to quit school, which I planned on doing anyway when I was offered a full-time job with our local community television station as the Assistant Program Coordinator.  I had been volunteering for them for a few years, mostly lugging equipment around, set-up lighting, and as playback operator (the person who pushed the button at seven every night so the programming would go on air), but now in my new job, I would get to do what I had wanted to do for so long, produce community television programs.  My main dream had been fulfilled, in spite of myself, and I was introduced to the Law of Attraction.

I didn’t know about the Law of Attraction back then, and it would be a few years before I would understand the role it played in my life, but there were many small successes that would follow, and I relished each one.  My attitude about life changed, and as a result, my life changed as well, the lost boy had been found, I returned to school and graduated with honors, furthered my dreams by working in both radio and print journalism, and won a poetry award.

I’m certainly no expert on the Law of Attraction, and I still struggle with applying it to my life, but I’ve summed it up in a simple statement, “Think bad things, and bad things happen, think good things, and good things happen!”  There are many different books and videos, each preaching a different approach to the Law of Attraction, but I always find it best to keep it simple, and Jesus stated it as simply as possible when he said, “Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.” 

I believe in the Law of Attraction itself, not necessarily with all its various interpretations and rules, and I know without any doubt whatsoever that as long as what I want doesn’t hurt or harm myself or others, and doesn’t take away from someone else, I can and will have it, as long as I apply myself to it with faith and conviction.  I am resolved to make good things happen, and I know, feel and believe that they do.

Love you all,

Luc

Starting Over and Over

As a recovering alcoholic, I’ve been sober twenty-six years, I know first hand how cunning, baffling, and powerful addiction is, and I know that recovery is possible as long as you are ready, willing, and able to commit to it.  It seemed so easy for alcohol, but not so for smoking.

I quit smoking for over six months, more like seven, and I felt great, my energy levels were high and I started walking again without too much discomfort, life was great.  I took for granted that I had beaten my addiction and that I would never smoke again, I was wrong.  A bad day came along, at least in my mind it seemed like one, and without thinking I picked up a pack of cigarettes and smoked.

I haven’t smoked consistently since then, I manage to get a few days of being smoke-free in, but before long, I smoke again.  I know I’ve disappointed people along the way but none can be more disappointed in me than I am.  I’ve tortured and beaten myself up mentally, and I’ve cursed the symptoms of smoking, the shortness of breath and the persistent cough, but in a weak moment, I’ve lit up again.

Working in the addictions field, I know that the best way to treat addiction of any kind is to identify and deal with the root causes, but along with addiction comes denial which can easily mask the principal cause of the problem.  I’ve always found what I considered a valuable excuse for smoking, I’m stressed out, I’m angry, I’m having a bad day, etc., but the real reason I smoked remained hidden from me until yesterday, or at least I didn’t want to admit it.

The topic of my smoking came up in two different conversations with two different friends yesterday, and in both conversations, the real reason I smoke rose up and slapped me in the face.  You see, it’s so easy for me to go without smoking on days that I work, but on my days off, the urge to smoke is overwhelming.  Why?  I smoke because I’m bored and lonely and because smoking numbs those feelings.

I have nobody but myself to blame for my loneliness, I’m the one who for the most part opted out of a social life making all kinds of excuses for staying in when others invited me out.  I was so convinced that I was a loner, and that I was happy sitting at home writing, reading, or resting, that I minimized my boredom and my loneliness. 

Awareness, they say, is a big part of the solution, and with that awareness, I make a conscious decision to reach out, step out, and do whatever it takes to rebuild a social life.  As for quitting smoking, I start over and continue to start over as many times as it takes until I finally get it right.

Love you all!

Luc

Compassion and the Law of Attraction

Abraham, the Spiritual Entity channeled by Esther Hicks, whose teachings are the subject of the Law of Attraction books by Esther and Jerry Hicks, claims that we should detach from other people and their problems, that it’s okay to be selfish, and that we aren’t here to fix the world but to live abundantly, Houston we have a problem!  I’m a firm believer in the Law of Attraction but have to disagree with Abraham on that one.

I agree that sometimes we spend too much time focusing on other people’s problems, that we get wrapped up in them, and that it hinders our own growth, but by the same token, I believe that in good measure, helping others helps us.  I could never, in good conscience, ignore the needs of others, it’s just not in my humanity.

I have known people, as a matter of fact, I still know some, who selfishly focus on themselves and disregard the needs of others, the need for justice, and the need for equality, and let me tell you that from my experience, these are not happy people.  They are bitter and angry and attract similar people, things, and experiences to themselves.

Compassion is a vital part of the human experience, Abraham misses the mark on that one.  It is said, and I believe it thoroughly that the more you give, the more you receive, and it doesn’t matter what form the giving takes, this is a bonus of giving and shouldn’t be the incentive.  Giving, whether it be time, energy, wisdom, money, or love, is a spiritual practice that I intend to practice alongside the Law of Attraction, as I always have.

I haven’t really applied myself to the Law of Attraction in years, but I am ready to embark on its wonderful journey, and I will do it while maintaining my compassion and caring.  Sorry, Abraham, I have a need to prove you wrong!

Love you all,

Luc

Life Lessons from a Detox Centre

I’m a Program Worker at a Detox Centre, and I tend to see people at their worst, full of denial, and with a hate on for authority.  That’s okay, that’s just where they’re at now, I look for potential in all of them because, as a recovering alcoholic, I’ve been in their shoes before and I know that this period need not, and does not, define their lives.

Each resident we serve has their own story, their own reasons why they drink or use drugs, and each has a motivation, sometimes hidden, to be clean and sober.  Sometimes, unfortunately, their addiction is stronger than their motivation to change, and we lose them, either because they choose to leave, or because we have to send them home.  These aren’t bad people even though they may have done bad things, they are sick, they have a disease that tells them they don’t have it.

For me, the hardest part of this job is not dealing with their behaviours, but with the emotional impact of listening to their stories.  It’s hard not to get highly emotional when you listen to a young woman speak of the sexual abuses she endured from age four until she was old enough to leave home, or the young man’s story of how his old man beat him savagely for playing a little too loudly.  Our Detox Centre is filled with residents with similar stories who sought an escape from the pain by using alcohol or drugs.  As hard as their stories are to listen too, I am happy to sit and listen because I know that sharing those stories is a critical step in the process of recovery, and it helps me to remember that I am dealing with emotionally scarred people, not monsters who lie, cheat and steal.

I learn as much from them as much as I hope they learn from me.  Working in this field has helped me to become a better human, it has taught me powerful lessons about tolerance and acceptance, and it has strengthened my belief in the dignity and worth of all people.  As a result, I try to treat each person I meet, not only the residents I serve, the same way that I would like to be treated, and I reach out my hand whenever anyone needs help, without prejudice, without judgment.  I am absolutely grateful for my job, and for all the addicts and alcoholics whose courage, strength, and hope have inspired me and helped me to become the person that I am.

Love you all!

Luc

No More Fear of Rejection

It occurred to me this morning that when it comes to writing, I’m a coward.  I’ve never experienced the pain of receiving a rejection letter, not because my stories are that good, but because I’ve never bothered to submit my stories to any source where rejection is possible.  Oh sure, I entered a story in the CBC Short Story Prize competition last year, the only competition I entered, but with thousands of entries pouring in, I entered not expecting to win, so there was no disappointment when I didn’t. 

I’ve become an expert at avoiding disappointment, going so far as to self-publishing two books, a collection of flash fiction and a collection of short stories, knowing that I didn’t have the foggiest idea how to market them, but at least they weren’t rejected, and I saved face by accepting that every book I sold was a victory.  I broke even, and that was a plus, but the stories in both books deserved better than that, they deserved to be submitted, criticized, and yes, even rejected a few times in order to gain credibility.  I didn’t have the courage to do it.

It’s CBC Short Story Prize time again, and I’ve been writing up a storm, hoping upon hope to write a story that I could believe was good enough to win, I did it, but now the fear has set in and I almost decided against entering it because of possible rejection.  It needs editing and revising, and I’m working on that now, but make no mistake about it, I will enter it, and I will wait with eager anticipation until next April, when the short list is announced and the winner is announced, and I will be crushed if it doesn’t place but that’s okay, I will survive it.  One way or the other, I will start to pay my dues towards becoming a serious writer.

Life is about change, and I am resolved to change.  I won’t sit idly by, waiting for a fruitful outcome, I will write up a storm, I will submit to markets and competitions, and I will collect those rejection slips, and those successes as they come, in short, I will take the risk and become a real writer.  Challenge accepted!

Love you all!

Luc

A Cup Of Courage and a Gallon of Gratitude

I’m usually up early, by three most mornings, and after I post my Facebook greetings, I usually settle down at my dining room table, laptop in front of me, a cup of coffee to my right, and I write.  I start with a little writing practice, ten minutes of free writing, sometimes I do a second round in order to wake-up my mind, and then the hard part begins, trying to write something tangible, something worthy of publishing.  It’s a noble goal but one that I don’t accomplish every day.  On a good day I manage to begin a few stories, or add to my works in progress, on a bad day, I struggle to begin even one story.

My writing time is at a premium, I work full-time, twelve-hour shifts, and I rely on my early morning or afternoon writing time to produce.  My inner critic follows my schedule and tends to intrude on my writing time, urging me to change a sentence, question my use of punctuation, and sometimes demanding that I start again from the beginning, writing is hard work when you have a critical inner editor who’s a boisterous loud mouth, but I persist.  I tackle my inner writing critic the same way I tackle any other problem or situation I face in my life, with a cup of courage and a gallon of gratitude, this recipe tends to serve me well.

Now, courage is not about scaling high mountains or skydiving out of an airplane, it’s about facing fears and problems head on and persisting despite them, it’s about reminding yourself that you will either succeed or learn a valuable lesson.  A cup of courage is all that is usually needed to silence the inner critic, or at least to muffle its voice long enough so that you can carry on.   Sure, things may not go as well as you planned, but they won’t go as bad as you thought either.

Gratitude is the fuel for your courage, the more grateful you are, the more courage you will have.  Be grateful for your life and for every success you have enjoyed.  Be grateful for your gifts and talents, and for the opportunity to face this challenge head on.  Be grateful for this perfect day, for the will to persist, for the willingness to fail, and for the valuable lessons you have learned by trying.  The more gratitude you can muster up, the easier it will be for you to face the current challenge.  Be forewarned that a gallon of gratitude will carry you beyond your current problem and have a positive impact on the rest of your life.

Fill your heart with gratitude, and courage will come.  I haven’t encountered a problem yet which a cup of courage and a gallon of gratitude hasn’t helped me resolve.  Not convinced?  Try it!

Love you all!

Luc

Tipping the Hatred Bandwagon

I made a decision a few years ago that I would eliminate negativity, anger, and hatred from my life, and it’s worked until now, but the world has changed, and anger and hatred now permeate all facets of society.  Friends who have up until now been mostly positive have shifted towards the hatred bandwagon, and I find myself caught in the crossfire.

As a writer, I am a strong proponent of freedom of speech and expression but such freedoms were never meant to be extended to those who propose violence and persecution towards any class of people.  I’ve witnessed people on both sides of the hate debate violate the intent of freedom of speech and expression, and it saddens me that violence has become an acceptable norm on both sides.

I find myself angered by the racial slurs, high level of intolerance, and violent tendencies of the far right, and I know that I must speak out in favor of unity, acceptance, and peace, but I must ensure that when I do, I do so in a way that is congruent with my beliefs.  I must resist all urges to attack those who believe differently than I do, and respond with truth and in the spirit of civility.

I’m not a pacifist, I will fight the war against oppression, but I will not raise my arm against a man’s word, only against his actions.  If I could, I would attend all counter rallies against hatred, and my shouts would echo along with others because what is under attack is our way of life, not freedom of speech or expression.

History, they say is doomed to repeat itself, and I’m afraid we are repeating it now. These are scary times we live in, war is imminent, and fascism is in again.  It’s only just begun, let’s kick its ass before it gains momentum.  And while we’re at it, why not throw in a prayer or two to whatever God, Deity, or Higher Power we believe in, the collective conscience of all has been known to be fruitful.

Hats off to all my relations, we are all relations, who stand up for the collective rights of all people.  I walk with you in your struggle.

Love you all!

Luc