Friday, January 31, 2014

A Bitter End to a Bitter Month

Friday, January 31, 2014


A local seasoned meteorologist likes to call cold weather of a certain severity Nanook.  It's been quite Nanook here in Minnesota this winter.  It's been the type of winter that long-time Minnesotans can respect.  We've had plenty of nights below 0F.  We've had plenty of days below 0F...in my opinion.
As I sit and compose this final entry of January, 2014 I am enjoying morning light filtering into the house.  The sun is greeting quite a landscape of snow though.  After yesterday's snowfall I believe we have about 16-18 inches on the ground in the Twin Cities.  We live on planet Hoth now.

Bitter cold is a good inspiration to speak about an unfortunate human experience, namely bitterness.  Of all the prevailing affective states bitterness ranks near the top of the scale of least desirable states to be stuck in.  It must be up there somewhere with despair and rage.  Anger, in my opinion, is preferable to bitterness.  Why?  Because anger has an energetic quality to it that bespeaks of a greater amenability to being confronted and tempered.  Anger is something you feel in the moment when someone does something you take immense offense to.  Anger is something you can feel for relatively short periods of time when circumstances prove stressful and wearisome.  Bitterness is another matter.

Bitterness is the inevitable fruit of long un-extinguished pain and suffering.  Bitterness grows when suffering goes not only on for a lengthy period of time but also unacknowledged.  Bitterness is a close relative of alienation, isolation and despair.  Bitterness is something a person who has lost precious elements of their lives (people, opportunities, a home, etc) time and time again can begin to feel when the related inevitable grief goes ignored.  Bitterness, in a sense, is grief driven underground for so long that it metastasizes into a darker form.  To be bitter is to feel so wounded in the heart chakra that no balm of healing will quickly bring relief.  In short, bitterness is something I prefer not to experience.

I feel grateful to state that bitterness has thankfully not been my prominent affective state for any long period of my life history.  I would by lying to say I have not felt bitterness at some point in my life.  In my case I suppose the anger I carried turned into more of a depression than a bitterness.  In my experience bitterness has a harder edge than depression; bitterness has a brittle quality whereas depression has a leaden heaviness to it.

As I continue to address the unacknowledged grief I have carried within me I feel that I am lightening up over time.  But it's a process.  It won't happen overnight.  It has taken me seven months just to reach the place I am now...namely sub-clinical for PTSD, more optimistic about my future and the healthiest, holistically speaking, that I have ever been.  I now feel energized by the idea of contemplating great future possibilities for myself.  I am excited by what is possible.  I am excited about how much I am striving for a better future and how dedicated I remain to all my healthy habits.  And I am excited that this bitter winter has not overwhelmed me more than it occasionally has.  My Vitamin D prescription has been a life saver.  But then again so has my phototherapy box, exercise and therapy.  These have all been vital ingredients to my recovery.

Despite the severity of the winter climate here in Minnesota and the passive-aggressive undercurrent to the local culture that I could do without I am nonetheless grateful for many aspects of Minnesota.  And one in particular I am so grateful for is the health care system this state offers its people.  It's one of the best I have ever found.  I do not know who I would be today if I didn't have a great health care plan that made it possible for me to walk a journey of recovery as intensive as the one I have walked.


I took advantage of the winter weather yesterday to drop by the Abbott Northwestern campus yesterday and get in to see my physical therapist for my foot.  I'm now on my way through what I hope will be the last targeted body part I need to deal with.  I try not to think too much of how I found myself in need of so much physical therapy.  To do so is to invite in a depression I do not need.  My commitment to myself is to remain physically fit so I do not find myself in such a storm of issues again.

Thursday, January 30, 2014

It's Beginning to Look a lot like Hoth

Thursday, January 30, 2014


So today we're having one of those lovely days when the weather forecast is repeatedly updated and each time an update is made the forecasted snow accumulation goes up.  An original forecast of one to three inches is now revised to four to eight inches.  At least it isn't -15F!  It is a balmy 18F.  But I am beginning to see snow drifts and mounds (from where the plows shove snow) so tall that I cannot see over them.  At least the calendar will switch to February...so one day it will be warm enough to melt all the snow away.  

I've been to my acupuncturist this morning and am waiting to see my chiropractor next.  I am finally basically done with ongoing acupuncture; I only need to return as needed.  So now my calendar opens up a bit more to allow in my new life!

Though much continues to improve in my life other aspects of my recovery are simply going to take more time.  It still feels weird some of the time for me to be so in my body.  I've said it before and I will say it again: When does it no longer feel abnormal to feel normal after having an anxiety disorder for three decades?  Who knows the answer to that one.  I suppose life will continue to feel like an ongoing adventure until that reality shifts.

This afternoon I spoke with the pastor of my MCC congregation about potentially offering a PTSD recovery oriented class that incorporates storytelling as a healing modality.    I enjoyed my conversation with him and will be moving forward with thinking through the finer details of such a class.  I previously had not had the chance to sit down and speak with him personally since I became a member of the congregation this past September.

Tomorrow is the last day of January.  I am looking forward to its end.  It has been the coldest month I have ever lived through.





Wednesday, January 29, 2014

An Open Letter to Wounded Warriors

Wednesday, January 29, 2014


I just came home a little while ago after having lunch with my friend Keith at the Aliveness Project.  I can definitely tell the days are growing longer and the sun is arcing higher in the sky.  But it's still cold. And the world appears quite dormant.  But I know there is life underground.  One day the sun's power shall overpower the cold and the ice will melt away.  Spring will come.

It might seem like I am a bit depressed considering the beginning of my posting for today.  I am not.  I am still feeling the afterglow of the news I received yesterday that I am sub-clinical.  Such news calls for celebration.

Recent engaging meetings with friends and new friends has led me to wish to post another open letter on this page.  Earlier this month I posted an open letter to Gabrielle Giffords after reading an op-ed piece she wrote which appeared in the New York Times.  So here comes another one.  This letter is written to what I call the wounded warrior.  This can include military veterans, activists, government officials, police, detectives, investigators, fathers and anyone whose daily life demands much of them.


Dear Wounded Warriors,

I count myself among you.  I have been writing of my life journey in immense detail since last summer. I consider myself a warrior in the cause for creating a more just and compassionate world.  And like you I have experienced my share of challenges, disappointments, pain, confusion and even agony.  I have been profoundly wounded at different times in my life.  You know the experience of such broadsiding pain.

I write to you today to make a request of you.  Do not turn away from your pain.  Do not hide it within yourself.  In that densest of darkness you can find the brightest of light.  In your pain, anger, grief and despair you are not alone.  There is the sweet breath of spring calling you to remember the beauty of days gone by which can and will come again if only you should trust in the process of journeying into the darkness.  I have been on my own journey into darkness and am still making my way through its shadowy terrain.  And I am a much better man for having agreed to make the journey.  Do not turn away from your pain.

I believe some among you might feel that it is not masculine to express pain.  You have come to believe that manhood and vulnerability cannot exist in the same body, in the same breath, in the same room.  Your fathers, grandfathers, ministers, brothers, bosses and others have perhaps convinced you of this.  But I believe it is not true.  And I am not the only man who believes as such.  Do you hear the profound yearning within your heart that exclaims resoundingly when you merely gently admit that you do in fact have pain?  Do you feel the release within you?  Do you know the pregnant potential within your darkness?

I am an American citizen and grew up in the United States.  I know this culture well.  I ask you this: What is manhood to you?  What does it mean to be a warrior?  I will tell you now what I believe.

To be a man is to respect all creation around you.
To be a man is to respect the power of your heart, voice and mind.
To be a man is to speak out against injustice that deprives others of their most basic needs.
To be a man is to respect other men as well as all women.
To be a man is to know you have a unique place and role to play in this world.
To be a man is to gaze at the starry night uncluttered by clouds, wind or moon and know you belong.


I am not on good terms with my father.  If you read posts in my blog you will be able to discern the background story.  I love him.  But I believe he turned away from his pain long ago in a mistaken belief that avoiding his pain would be its cure.  And yet I sense there was no cure, no release, no easy breath. What is the source of his pain?  I would suspect it lies within the realm of his relationship with his father.  Ah yes, fathers and sons.  Could there be a richer source of epic tales than the journeys we sons take with our fathers?  I do not believe so.

Last year I went to the Minnesota Men's Conference.  While at the conference I met a number of men who struggle with some of the same issues I do.  Others have unique journeys I can only imagine.  I still remember one man who had previously served in the military.  He alluded to that experience and disclosed some details about his relationship with his son.  It sounded as if it pained him to not be more forthright about his life history.  Turn towards the pain, please.  It is difficult...but the journey is rich.

I have occasionally wondered if my own father's life history includes some sort of pain or trauma that took place while he was in the Army.  I can neither confirm nor deny this.  I can only wonder.  But in this moment all I can do is allow my father to live his chosen life and not push him.  It is his choice to avoid painful matters.  But in doing so it has caused me the pain of estrangement.

Many of us have witnessed some unspeakably horrible circumstances at one time or another in our lives.  This is not surprising.  Our world is filled with beauty...and horror.  And yet nothing can defile our inherent dignity...nothing can truly strip us of our humanity and beauty.  Do you know this?  Have you felt this?  Have you seen this truth shining back to you in the smiles of other men?  Can you allow yourself to bask in the glow of such energy?

Please, turn towards your pain...rather than away.  Walk outside, listen to the wind whispering in the trees, and feel eternity in your bones.  There is no darkness that cannot be conquered.

I welcome you to read more entries from my blog, most especially what I shared in the daily post entitled "War as Performance 'Art'".

Thank you for reading.


Tuesday, January 28, 2014

I Am Sub-Clinical!

Tuesday, January 28, 2014


Today marks an unexpected and amazingly important milestone in my recovery process from PTSD.  I had an appointment with my therapist this morning.  We focused partially on re-assessing me for PTSD.  Though I do still meet some criteria for PTSD as listed in the DSM V I no longer currently meet enough criteria to be clinically diagnosable for it.  I now score as 'sub-clinical'.  This development is huge!  It marks a major milestone in my journey to full recovery.  When I will meet no criteria for PTSD is not something I can easily predict but at the rate I am going I would not doubt if I make a full recovery by the end of 2014 as I am intending to do.  It might even happen much sooner than that!

It is nice to have a bookend to define the day I knew clearly I no longer could score at a clinical level for PTSD.  While I can define an endpoint to that period of my life defining a beginning point for the disorder is much more challenging.  And it is so challenging due largely to the fact that I believe the beginning is shrouded somewhere in the earliest years of my life.

EMDR therapy has helped me to remove the sharp, hot, painful edge to some of my earliest memories in which I was an unwitting witness to my mother's descent into schizophrenia.  I can now recall those memories without the attached emotional charge that once could easily overwhelm me.  I would certainly guess that my PTSD began no later than when my parents divorced and my mother moved back to Germany.  I can't easily recall the exact time of those events.  I only know that it was very early in my own development.  Trying to find a clear answer to the question of when my PTSD began is something akin to searching for something within a thick fog...it's a bit challenging.

As I made my way home today the world around me looked much as it would shortly after those first sessions I underwent using EMDR therapy: vivid, engaging, exciting.  Though today is one of the coldest days of a winter that has felt plenty long already my excitement about my recovery suffused my body and mind.  Were it not so brisk outside I could imagine going out and shouting "I'm sub-clinical, I'm sub-clinical!"  But then some people might think I am clinical in another way...such as being manic!  The coming of spring and a new cycle of life is still many weeks away but this encouraging news today gives me such a needed boost at a time when I have been feeling a bit weary.  The bitter cold of this winter has been a lot to manage.  I cannot imagine how I would have put up with such enduring cold if it had happened last winter when I had first moved to Minnesota.  Thankfully the remaining days of this winter will be even easier for me to manage now that I have confirmation that all the work I have been doing on myself is paying off...and paying off well!

Now that I am sub-clinical it is, however, important to note that my personal journey of healing is not over yet.  I have in a sense graduated into a different pool of people throughout the world.  I would not consider myself at high risk of a relapse into clinically diagnosable PTSD given the great variety of habits I am cultivating to make a better future life for myself.  Yet it is important that I not waver and slack off now.  My progress is something akin to a patient being given the news of remission of cancer; I am moving in the direction of wellness.  And I intend to keep moving in that direction.

Cheers!





Monday, January 27, 2014

War As Performance "Art"

Monday, January 27, 2014


As I hear more stories about people who have been affected by PTSD it's only natural I hear reference to stories related to Iraq...or Afghanistan.  As I was cleaning up my computer today I found a piece I wrote in 2009 for a class I was taking at the Monterey Institute of International Studies.  It still seems timely today...over four years later:



The Cost of a Myth
A Post-Modern Perspective on American Culture and War
Are you worth more dead than alive?  Well publicized events of America's cultural and political life might lead a person to believe our mainstream culture actually prizes life over death.  Consider the wrangling over abortion provisions that recently slowed progress on the House of Representatives' efforts to create a landmark health care overhaul bill.  Many Americans have very strong feelings on abortion.  Indeed, some people are so pro-life they destroy life as an expression of their respect for it.  A man responsible for the murder of a Wichita, Kansas abortion doctor recently expressed no remorse for his actions.  He cited the imminent danger to unborn lives as justification for the murder.  Taking life to preserve life apparently did not seem to be a contradiction in his own mental calculus.
Yet you can also learn much about a person, people or nation by what is not often openly shared.  America, all appearances to the contrary, espouses a culture of death.  Murder makes money.  Peace does not.  In his book War Is a Force That Gives Us Meaning, Chris Hedges explores the statecraft of war.  He asserts all participants in the modern practice of war are defiled, regardless of position or intent.  Hedges worked as a war correspondent for many years and thus witnessed the cold cruelty that leads human beings to murder both adults and children as well as military enemies and civilians.  Hedges argues that the state legitimizes and subsequently prosecutes war (often quite easily with a large degree of impunity) by employing a number of techniques including destruction of the evidence of its inevitable horror, marginalizing dissident voices and revising history itself.  The common theme contained in these strategies is control of information.  The dead "become pieces of performance art" for use as state propaganda.
Any well educated statesman with a post modern perspective will affirm that power and knowledge are indeed intimately intertwined.  To gain and maintain the former you must know how to manage and cultivate the latter.  When information harmful to a reputation might possibly emerge, controlling knowledge is a paramount strategy.  The United States military is certainly aware of the power of knowledge.  To be otherwise would risk the American public's tolerance of war and its inevitable destruction.  Our culture's glorification of war necessarily requires a distorted understanding of what war is, and what it does to all it consumes.
Consider the eight year long conflict in Afghanistan.  Let us put aside all questions as to what the United States' motivations are for being there and whether the mission itself is a viable one.  Let us concentrate solely on the consequences.  Have you ever noticed how frequently American military deaths are repeated in media reports, and how comparatively infrequent are reports of the greater number of personnel seriously injured?  What ultimately becomes of these people and their profoundly altered futures?  Indeed, if our nation possesses such reverence for life, where is the widespread interest in the current lives of these personnel who survive?  If we care so much for life, where is our interest in these individuals' futures?
The paucity of data on the war injured can be appreciated by the name of one site that offers it: www.unknownnews.net.  According to the site, the number of troops seriously injured compared to the number killed is three and seven times greater for theaters in Afghanistan and Iraq respectively.  Data from more well known sources is equally sobering.  A recent New York Times article provided an estimate that the costs of sending additional American troops to Afghanistan averages to $1,000,000.00 per soldier per annum.  The high cost is due in part to transportation and equipment costs for each soldier.  Regardless of what choice President Obama ultimately makes regarding the American presence in Afghanistan, the costs we have already incurred, and will continue to incur, are enormous. 

There is a saying that ignorance is bliss.  But we are ignorant of what our military personnel endure at our own peril.  We are truly burdened by this ignorance.  Long after the Afghanistan question is somehow answered, we here in America will be confronting the consequences.  Consider the many soldiers afflicted with PTSD.  But there is a still darker story, and this one comes from Iraq.  Consider the horror of depleted uranium.
The Depleted Uranium Citizens' Network of the Military Toxics Project provides data on the exposure of American military personnel to depleted uranium during the Gulf War of 1990-91.  The Gulf War was the first major conflict to feature the use of depleted uranium (DU) in weaponry.  The Army Environmental Policy Institute, in response to a Congressional requirement, generated a technical report on the environmental consequences of DU use.  The Depleted Uranium Citizens' Network reviewed the report and determined that "its conclusions are inconsistent with its creditable scientific statements."  The Network further states that "DU is a deadly substance from which soldiers, the public and the environment must be protected beforehand, because no technology can afterwards adequately mitigate its effects."  DU weapons later became available on the world market.  Does the glory of war include radiation poisoning?  America unleashed the pain of radiation related illness by bombing Hiroshima and Nagasaki in World War II.  How can we tolerate the Department of Defense allowing our military personnel to be exposed to radioactive material?
Yet the horror widens still more.  For truly stomach churning material, read an article recently published by Justin O'Connell entitled "Copenhagen Treaty: Premises and Motivations."  The United States Department of Defense is recognized therein as "the largest polluter in the world, producing more hazardous wastes than the five largest US chemical companies together."  How can the largest polluter of the world simultaneously successfully provide for the security of a nation?  Have you heard of a greater contradiction?
A truly sustainable state is one that ensures the security of its own people.  And yet a sustainable state will also wisely recognize the need to provide a certain baseline of care and security for its military and security forces that ensure its own existence.  And on that second measure, the United States has a long distance to go.




Lost Time

Monday, January 27, 2014


As I continue my recovery process I often feel the weight of grief.  My grief has so many facets to it.  Some of my grief is due to the injustice I experienced as a child which I could not escape.  Then there is the alienation from my families of origin I have felt on different occasions in my life.  This alienation has also been a source of grief.  Now, as I work through the impact of my earlier life history in a proactive way, I can identify the aspect of my grief that is most prominent for me now.  And this grief comes from my feeling of having missed out.  I feel that I have missed out on so much.

To awaken to the reality that I have been experiencing an anxiety disorder for decades is no small matter.  I have spoken about this in more recent posts; it wasn't entirely clear to me just what I had been experiencing during the first few months that I found myself back in therapy yet again.  Last June, July, August and even September seem like such a blur now.  I was focused on getting out of the messy mix of feelings I was feeling at the time and not at all focused on attempting to see the bigger picture of my life history.  Once that initial stage had passed life became a lot easier...in some respects.  I still find myself feeling a lot of pain these days...but at least I am finally fully conscious of it (or nearly so...can we ever be 100.0000% conscious of whatever pain there is in our lives??).  My physical body, with the exception of my left foot, now is in very good shape.  Indeed, I am probably nearly in the best physical shape I have ever been in now.  And my emotional health is rapidly catching up as well.

Lost time.  How do you deal with discovering you were anxious nearly as early as you have a consistent stream of memory?  How do you overcome such a lengthy legacy of internal disquiet that was so long in the backdrop of your psyche?  These are not rhetorical questions.  Nor are they easy questions to resolve.  All I can do now is live my life in the best way possible and be the person I wish to be.  By living in the present moment and releasing all aspects of the past that no longer serve me now I can move forward in a decisive and healthy way.  And yet still I feel the burden of lost time.

When I attended the partial hospitalization program at Abbott Northwestern Hospital last November there was a woman in my group that reminded me very much of my mother.  She was marginally functional; the pain in one of her wrists would keep her awake at night.  She was so sleep deprived that she was at risk of becoming psychotic.  It was difficult to be around her because I found her emotionally draining.  I for my part was probably also not always easy to be around.  I still remember her speaking of her sense of me and talking about how she sensed so much anger in me.  She was correct.  I was very angry.

Anger is a primary affective state I can find myself slipping into when I ruminate too much about lost time.  I need to keep myself sufficiently busy such that I do not have the time to ruminate on the legacy of my past.  I have made incredible progress in these last seven months; friends have witnessed my transformation and have been impressed by the speed of my recovery.  And yet there is still much work to be done.

I also feel a bit weary lately of winter.  The sun is shining today but it again is one of the coldest days of the winter season.  Last year the spring began very late; there were record ice out dates on area lakes.  I am wondering what this coming spring will hold for us.  I pray that it begins earlier and lasts longer than last year's version of spring.  But with the jet stream configuration so stuck it leads me to wonder.  What will cause the pattern to finally begin to break down?

I am going to take a bit of time away from this blog at some point in February.  I do not expect it will be a long break...most likely no more than a week.  I feel it would be healthy to step back and reassess a lot of my life right now.  But I will return to writing!  I find it so therapeutic and also uplifting.  It pleases me to know that some people are finding great benefit from my willingness to share my thoughts in a form available to anyone who should choose to follow me.

I wish everyone who reads this a pleasant and enjoyable day.


Sunday, January 26, 2014

My Grand Remodeling of Me

Sunday, January 26, 2014


When my plan to go to Chicago fell through yesterday morning I decided to refocus and use my time to continue actively working on my own recovery process.  Today I was a well behaved guy; I went to the YMCA this afternoon despite the quickly deteriorating weather conditions (there is currently a blizzard warning just west of the Twin Cities).  I did my shoulder exercises, swam twenty laps in the pool and then did some boxing.

As I continue to remodel the person I present to the world I am allowing myself to pursue all sorts of activities I previously excluded and imagined were the province of people I would not fit among.  I had never previously thought of myself as an athlete or even all that capable of becoming an athlete even if I set my mind to such a project.  And now I find myself wondering why.  Why did I abdicate so much of my personal power to ideas about myself which were not truly my own nor ideas I wanted actually to hold?  In some sense I believe the answer goes back yet again to my early life history and the trauma I experienced which led to the development of my PTSD.  It was simply easier to succumb to others' projections and definitions of me rather than adamantly resist and more vigorously assert myself in the world.  That time is over now.  I will not go back to this old way of being.

As I have noted in more recent postings I presented a person to the world who was far more passive that is true to my authentic self.  As I have pursued a very proactive course of healing myself I realize that the person I am becoming is truly the person I always was.  I simply was hiding that man from the world at large.  I was living too much in fear and in pain.  The trauma I experienced did such a number on my brain...and I wasn't even fully aware of it!

I have long thought of boxing as an activity associated with very masculine men.  And because I had long agreed with an inaccurate persona for myself that was fairly passive as somehow being my true self I did not allow myself to think of boxing as something I could or should pursue.  It was a very masculine activity...and I was not a very masculine man...or so I thought.  What nonsense that was!
Today, as I practiced punching, I noticed my hand-eye coordination is already improving.  I am able to punch faster and keep up with the motion of the punching bag more easily.  Practice makes perfect...or at least better!

As I keep faithful to my healing process I continue to entertain that grandest of questions that we can ideally ask ourselves in our lives: What is possible in my life?  What can I ultimately achieve?  I am amazed at how quickly I am improving.  On Tuesday my therapist is going to reassess me according to the criteria used to diagnose PTSD.  It seems entirely possible that I will be un-diagnosable long before the end of 2014.


Saturday, January 25, 2014

The Walking Wounded and Silent Sufferers

Saturday, January 25, 2014


Life did not go according to plan this weekend.  I arrived on time at my bus stop this morning to go downtown and catch the Megabus to Chicago.  But the bus did not arrive on time.  And it's quite obvious the driver was not well prepared; she had never even driven the route before!  So instead of visiting Chicago I am staying here in Minneapolis this weekend.

I had a nice conversation with a friend of a friend one evening recently.  I guided the conversation into the topic of PTSD.  I then learned this woman's son has PTSD.  He was sent to Iraq.  This morning I logged on to one of my 'dating' profiles and found a message from someone in which he referenced the contest I participated in last November and my openness about the issue of PTSD.  He mentioned that his father (who was in the Navy) had (has?) PTSD.  As I continue to hear more stories of people's life journeys I have found myself wondering just how accurate the statistics are regarding the frequency of PTSD in the general population of the United States.  I also wonder if it might be something of a 'silent health crisis' i.e. something that is much more endemic to the population than we even understand in the year 2014.

According to the CDC heart disease is the number one cause of death in the United States.  For fairly recent statistics you can find a good source here.  It is interesting to see the fifteen primary causes of death ranked and to see where they fall compared to one another.  Suicide leads to more deaths than chronic liver disease or Parkinson's disease.  Yet influenza still results in a greater loss of life than suicide.  Accidents are the 5th leading cause of death!

Of the deaths attributable to suicide I wonder how many of those were committed by those who had PTSD or would have been diagnosed with PTSD if they had sought out a competent health care provider.  As with other branches of science the advance of medicine is hindered in part by the quality of available data.  I also can't help but wonder what the breakdown of PTSD cases is with respect to gender.  My educated guess might be that women represent a disproportionately high percentage of the total number (when compared against their representation of the general population) because I would guess that women have better and more active health care seeking behaviors and are thus more likely to get screened and have such a condition discovered.  Men, especially those from cultures in which machismo reigns, seem less likely to seek out medical attention...even when it is urgent that they do so.  In my opinion many men are still raised to avoid, deny or minimize their experience of pain.  To admit to being in pain is somehow to be thought of us as not being manly or being 'less than'.

I feel that we all lose out when people cannot simply admit to their pain and seek treatment.  Sometimes it's a matter of how they were raised in their own families.  Sometimes it is also or separately an issue of culture.  And then there is the influence of religion and spirituality.  There are many possible explanations.  What I also feel, as I continue to emerge from my own strange state of being that I called 'life' for so long, is that many people walking around are a shadow of their potential selves precisely because they simply refuse to confront their own pain.  And yet the only guaranteed way to have even a chance of solving a problem is to first acknowledge its existence.  And many won't even do that.  I certainly feel this has been true of my paternal family of origin.  Avoidance and denial can be so incredibly toxic.


I have heard nothing from my relatives whom I wrote to this past week regarding my thoughts about my father.  I do not know what I can expect...if anything.  What I do know is that I need to continue to focus on my own healing journey.  Despite the bumps and detours I continue to feel quite good most of the time.  I have moments when I feel especially down but I do not see them metastasizing into a depressive affect.  I am done with depression...now and even forever I think.  I am learning some excellent skills to cultivate my emotional health.

My grief is certainly still with me.  And that is due partly to the poor skills men typically have regarding grief.  But I am learning and moving forwards.  I am determined not to let my past limit what I can realize of my potential.


I have scheduled what I hope will be my final physical therapy evaluation for Monday, February 3rd.  This evaluation will focus specifically on my left foot and lower leg.  My goal of completing physical therapy by March 1st still seems to be a realistic one.  It will be a sweet relief when the only therapy I am seeking out is psychotherapy.  I still marvel at how well I was able to ignore my own pain and grief for so long.  But it didn't serve me well in the long run.  I was only being dragged down by my willingness to ignore it.







Friday, January 24, 2014

Another Way I Am Recovering

Friday, January 24, 2014


Once I successfully address the factors unique to my own paternal family of origin that contributed to the development of my PTSD I intend to continue writing in some fashion as a means of acknowledging a different form of trauma that I believe exists.  I have alluded to this different type of trauma in other writings.  I call it cultural trauma.  There is likely a more technical term for that which I mean to describe.  Genocide and being uprooted from your culture of origin are two examples of events that could produce what I call cultural trauma.

Though I did not realize it at the time I believe I had my first intensive experience of cultural trauma when I lived among the Lakota Native American people on the Rosebud reservation in the first months of 1997.  At the time I was a Jesuit novice and was sent to South Dakota for what the Jesuits call an 'experiment'.  I was in my early 20s at the time.  I had previously never lived immersed in a culture radically different from the cultures my father and mother grew up in.  It was an eye opening experience to say the least.

Many years prior to that time, when I was a very small boy, my parents took photographs of me.  They enlarged one particular image; this image was later mounted on a wall in the house I spent most of my years of childhood.  I had blonde hair, a cute smile...and I was wearing leather.

Last year, around the time my recovery from PTSD began, I decided to also take the plunge and allow myself to more thoroughly explore my mother's culture of origin.  Though I grew up in the United States and am not a dual citizen of the States and Germany I have nonetheless long felt that I belong equally in both places.  Making my trip to Germany last May reawakened what I would call my 'Germanic side'.  I began to explore that side of my identity more and more.  In my mind a common association with German culture is an appreciation for leather.

I am contributing to my recovery process by seeking out my leather brothers (and sisters) this weekend at the Mr. Chicago Leather event in Chicago, Illinois.  I will be leaving early tomorrow morning and taking the bus (because it is cheaper).  I am looking forward to getting away for the weekend and enjoying the pleasures of another city.


Another Apparent Benefit of EMDR

Friday, January 24, 2014


Yesterday I sat down and enjoyed a savory crepe after leaving the downtown YMCA.  I went to the Y immediately after my visit to my podiatrist because I needed to work off the excitement and irritation I was feeling after learning that I needed more physical therapy.

I was undoubtedly experiencing the post-workout rush of endorphins when I sat down to eat but what I observed while eating was something I have experienced on other occasions since last summer.  Once again I noticed that my sense of taste was quite strong.  It seems to me that healing with EMDR therapy can have the effect of heightening the functional capacity of the different senses.  Since I began my own healing journey with the use of EMDR I have noticed my senses of sight, touch and taste have all sharpened.  Many times last summer I found myself noticing a shift in my eyesight after a session that featured EMDR.  My anxiety level initially rose in the early days of my work because I felt confusion as to what was happening to me.  Eventually I learned to relax into the flow of the process and simply allow myself to feel confused and not attempt to make such a feeling 'wrong' in my mind.

I assume the changes in my senses must be attributable to the impact of EMDR therapy in particular because it is the only aspect of my current journey that is significantly different from previous times I have entered therapy.  It's the only new variable in my 'equation' of healing.  So I believe my conclusion is warranted.

Despite the ongoing work of physical therapy that has felt arduous on many days I am nonetheless grateful that I have made it this far.  And despite this process that has unfolded simultaneous to my psychotherapy process (and the demands it has made on me) I still find my daily life filled with this element of magic that I cannot recall feeling any time recently.  Experiencing sharpened senses certainly makes it easier to perceive the world as filled with an amazing amount of magic.  Petting and walking my housemate's dogs on a regular basis has also been so incredibly stimulating for my senses.

Something else amazing also happened yesterday morning.  I experienced a tunnel of light as I rode the #5 bus down South 8th Street in downtown Minneapolis.  It was the perfect time of morning and time of year for the sun to be aligned such that the northwest-southeast oriented street would catch the full power of the sun.  I felt a temptation to stare at the sun because of its immense luminosity and how its light was casting sharp shadows in the bus and outside on the street.  It was so cold outside that you simply could not really perceive the warming rays of the sun with your skin.  Only my eyes could really confirm it was there.  It was wonderful to journey directly towards the sun down the street and to be able to feel such joy at this brief sunbath that I unexpectedly enjoyed.

As I look back now I can confidently state that this experience of being fully in my body didn't really deepen until the shamanic soul retrieval process I did in late November.  Thereafter it seems as if my healing process only accelerated.  And as I have removed one issue after another from my plate of challenges it has been easier to allocate my energy to my remaining challenges.

With each day that passes I feel better and better.





Thursday, January 23, 2014

And the Answer Is! More Physical Therapy

Thursday, January 23, 2014


When I first began doing physical therapy last summer I had no idea what a long haul I was in for.  I was angry much of the time because I felt my life had been totally derailed by my unexpected diagnosis of PTSD.  But then new challenges kept appearing on my plate.  Suddenly I found myself working with a litany of health care providers to get me back in shape.  I had a therapist, a physical therapist, an acupuncturist, a chiropractor and so on.  My daily planner began to look like that of an 85 year old.  It was a sobering and overwhelming time.

Today my podiatrist put in an order for still more physical therapy.  This time it is to target the calf muscles in my left leg.  I could choose to become angry about the need for more therapy and then wallow in self pity.  But I am not going to do that.  I am going to channel the energy of my sadness, pain and irritation into the necessary work of improving my health.  I have come this far and I will not back down now.

I do believe this previously unsuccessfully treated condition of PTSD has contributed to the difficulties I have had with my musculoskeletal system.  I simply could not completely relax for years at a time.  I was too anxious.  My body was caught in a persistent low grade state of activation and tension.  My fight or flight response was never completely not on alert.  Because I could not relax my body had to start compensating by developing all these slightly distorted ways of moving.  And thus I found myself inside the body I have all these years later a bit baffled as to how this all happened.  How did I get here?  But more importantly...how do I get back to the healthy person I know I can be?

One clear choice I made months ago was to excise all the dross out of my life.  If you want to be truly healthy (and I mean glowing such that people notice it) you simply have to do a radical inventory of your life and approach your life with incredible honesty.  You have to be willing to review what is and is not working and toss out the dreck that simply doesn't work.  Is it painful?  I would say 99.99% of the time there will be pain involved in such a clearing process.  Will it prove worth it?  I believe the answer is ABSOLUTELY.

Going back into physical therapy yet again has a way of reactivating my grief centered in my experience of feeling I have lost so much time.  My journey of healing has been so lengthy (at least in my mind) that I occasionally have had those nagging, unpleasant thoughts in which I wonder when it will all be over.  To sound like a child: 'Am I there yet?'  And the answer is that I am not.  But I am much, much closer than I have ever been.  And it is also true that I am really the healthiest I have ever been in my life thus far.  It's still a weird feeling.  And who knows what that feeling will end!

I've put on more than fifteen pounds since I began being much more physically active last summer.  I am now constantly weighing in close to the most I have ever weighed.  I am literally growing!  I should take some Before and After pictures.



Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Remaining Steadfast in the Midst of Dormancy

Wednesday, January 22, 2014


Even now, seven months into my recovery process, there are days when I really would prefer to stay at home and relax in bed.  I certainly am not depressed now (that ended last August) but that doesn't mean remaining committed to the new direction I am charting is always easy.  We all have good days and difficult days.  And sometimes even the good days can feel difficult because it might seem like the world around us is frozen and unmoved by all the changes we make in our own lives.  Today seems to be such a day for me.  Everything seems to be moving forward and I would say that this is objectively true and not just an appearance.  And yet there is my pain within me coaxing me to befriend it so I may be freed from its grasp.

I have a mixed relationship with the dormancy of the world beyond my windows.  Some days I feel the silence and deep cold of winter is an excellent invitation to do the deep work of grief that I feel I must finally attend to in a healthy way.  On other days I look outside and wish I would see the warmth and green of a summer day beckoning me to go outside.  Those days will come one day again.  I just wish I wasn't already pining for them now.  Our season of winter is not very old quite yet but I already feel a bit weary of the continual chill.

Today has not been a "bad" day based on all appearances I have seen thus far.  I woke up easily.  I ate breakfast.  I took my supplements and medication.  I left home on time to catch the bus.  I had a productive meeting with my career coach.  I set some goals to accomplish before I meet with her next Wednesday.  I will be meeting my friend Keith for lunch in a short while.  And then I will go to the YMCA and once again exercise.

Laying down new healthy habits and new healthy neural pathways in the brain is not something you do overnight.  It's not even something you do in the course of several months and necessarily expect amazing changes to greet your vision.  But change does happen.  Just like the thaw of a Minnesota winter that occasionally feels all too slow change will come.  I just have to be patient.  More patience is needed!  And the reward of patience is...patience!

I know my grief is with me today.  I feel its weight.  I know I have stepped through a door of no return...another departure into a future life as I leave the past behind.  In recently disclosing (this past Monday) to some of my relatives that I sought out legal recourse against my father last summer I have (I believe) made it radiantly clear just how angry, disenchanted and demoralized I am with my father's dysfunctional behavior.  I have waffled in my stance with my father many a time in the past.  I will do so no more.  Setting a firm boundary with him is a very painful action for me to take.  But it is necessary for my own recovery and future health that I excise from my life sources of anxiety that I cannot forcibly change.  I cannot make my father magically transform into another man.  I have to let go...regardless of how painful it may be.  And yet the pain is very real and very deep.

I do not feel like I am going through the motions today.  And yet I still feel heavy.  I feel happy to be alive and I look forward to the remainder of what I have planned for today.  When the mere passage of each moment feels arduous I can do something that I have found so helpful throughout difficult times in my life.  I can breathe deeply.  I can remember all the good in my life.  I can recall all those amazing moments I have enjoyed.  I can focus on my amazing resiliency.  I can dream of a better tomorrow...and by dreaming it will eventually come to be.

I took some action yesterday in my continuing job search.  I felt some sense of accomplishment when the day had ended.  I made effort to move forward.  The magic of the Universe is still a vital ingredient though.  Grace in an essential element in all of our lives.  May grace continue to be with me as I transform into the man that has always been inside me.




Tuesday, January 21, 2014

The Power of a Vortex

Tuesday, January 21, 2014


It's below 0F again.  This is not surprising...it is late January and I live in Minnesota.  I can't easily express how much I am looking forward to spring.  It's only about sixty days until the vernal equinox!

The word vortex became a popular word in the media lexicon earlier this month when the polar vortex dropped southward and brought severe cold to much of the United States.  Naturally idiots such as Rush Limbaugh decried the vortex as some sort of liberal conspiracy.  And then of course others were crowing about how winter cold somehow disproves that the planet's climate system is destabilizing due to our continued use of fossil fuels.  Global climate change doesn't imply the end of seasons.  What we are witnessing throughout the world does seem to indicate that the length and timing of seasons will change due to our bad choice of energy policy.  Eventually we as a species might collectively one day wake up to what we are doing...but until that time comes it seems it will be business as usual.  Given my own trauma history and what I know of human history it seems to be a deeply ingrained behavioral flaw that people continue to make poor choices and behave badly until the consequences become so completely intolerable and undeniable that they are forced to choose a different path.

Perhaps I sound judgmental and I concede I probably am a bit judgmental.  I suppose I consider it a 'better' 'sin' than the ones I see so often in others' behavior.  I would prefer to be a bit judgmental as compared to being arrogant, negligent or so ensconced in denial that I could not see the issues I am plagued by.  I've met all too many people who fall into the category of denial.  It's certainly convenient to live in it for a time but wow does it ever hurt when you finally emerge from it.

It has not even been a day since I wrote to some of my father's relatives and disclosed my discomfort regarding unresolved issues in the family.  It will be the last time I do so; I am not pounding my head against the marble-strength walls of denial I believe they live in any more.  It's exhausting and pointless.  It's time for me to grieve and move on with my life.  I will no longer live in my own vortex of confusion.  The confusion I have lived in regarding my own father's behavior simply causes me too much anxiety.  I would rather have the pain of silence that results from making the decision to walk away as compared to the apparently unlimited quantity of drama that could be my reality if I chose to keep interacting with my family in a way that never leaves me feeling good.  I need to choose me.

...

Last night I had the pleasure of attending a lecture in honor of the memory of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.  I learned more about a colleague of his named Bayard Rustin.  Having learned something of Rustin's history I have to say he is a memorable individual.  He was open about his homosexuality at a time when few dared to be so open about an aspect of themselves which was, at the time, still so poorly understood by medicine and religion.  He had the type of courage usually attributed to the strongest of warriors.  He was a warrior for human dignity.  One of my favorite quotes attributed to him was the following:

“When an individual is protesting society's refusal to acknowledge his dignity as a human being, his very act of protest confers dignity on him.”

This is such a fascinating way to address the issue of stigma and marginalization that so many people have faced in the history of the United States of America.  This has been the experience of so many groups including African Americans, Native Americans, the Japanese during World War II, gay people, transgender people and so on.

I also like this quote because I can turn it around a bit and rephrase it:

"When an individual is protesting his family's refusal to acknowledge his concerns, his very act of protest confers dignity on him."

I feel that, in a sense, that is what I am doing regarding my father and my paternal family.  I am 'protesting' the complete avoidance of long existing issues that have impacted me for much of my life.  I am protesting what I see as a willing negligence to ever attend to issues in a healthy way.  I am protesting my sense of feeling completely unseen and unheard.  In that regard my experience in my family has a common theme with the protests of many marginalized groups of people: the experience of feeling invisible and being treated as a non-entity.

This feeling of being invisible was a primary ingredient that led to the ponderous grief I began carrying around with me for so long.  When living true to who I fundamentally am does not result in my needs getting met it's obvious to me that I need to move on and find support somewhere else.  This doesn't mean the process of letting go is easy but it does mean the process is a necessary one...however painful it may be.

The issue of dignity is a seminal one right now in America as well.  It seems dignity, compassion and kindness long went by the wayside in this nation.  Unless I understand correctly we now live in a time when there has never been such a polarization between the wealthy and the poor, between the haves and have-nots as there is now.  To look back through deeper history there is often a consistent thread of inequality serving as a key ingredient in later social unrest and state turmoil.  When the marginalized become many and the well-off become quite few their co-existence side by side becomes a moral dilemma...a moral crisis.  It thus seems we are facing a moral crisis in this nation.  This is my belief.

So what does this have to do with my own particular trauma and the theme of trauma in general?  I will respond in this way.  How can one heal and be happy when so many of his fellow citizens are suffering and destitute?  How can I complete my own healing process and feel good about my own life if all the while I am seeing what appears to be a growing mass of suffering all around me?  With more and more people pushed to the margins in this society what must happen for the process to reverse itself?  Do we need trauma on a state scale as made manifest in social unrest and protest?

I find myself feeling increasingly uneasy about the lack of real attention being paid to our very real problems in this nation.

...

So being a meteorology geek (I obtained my undergraduate degree in meteorology) I decided to look at the latest weather discussions for some ray of hope that the dreaded polar vortex will grant us a reprieve some time soon.  No such luck apparently.  It appears the pattern we have been locked in since early December may persist into the middle of February.  Yikes.  Subzero cold has been observed here in Minneapolis in March so bracing cold is certainly not atypical even after the official start of Spring as marked by the vernal equinox.  I'll have to make sure I keep myself busy so I don't too distracted waiting for spring to begin.



Monday, January 20, 2014

Winter, Part...Um, Oh Who Knows. It's Still Cold.

Monday, January 20, 2014


Last week was the first time I awoke and found myself feeling a little weary of winter.  I suppose it's a good thing my weariness didn't arise until January.  Had I felt this way in December I would have been concerned about how I would make it through the winter without excessive whining and moaning!  Ha!  Thankfully I am keeping myself busy enough such that I don't pay too much attention to the fact that it is still January.

I am giving myself something of a break from excessive time on my feet until I meet with a podiatrist later this week.  I've been working diligently on my physical fitness goals; it's not necessary for me to live at the gym every day.  So I am instead refocusing my attention on matters related to my paternal family.  After meeting with my therapist earlier today I decided to send a communication to some of my relatives regarding our relationship.  I don't have any intention of actually moving further forward on this issue in the near future as other matters are consuming my attention.  I nonetheless feel grief that I feel compelled to take the action that I did.

I am excited to say that next week my therapist and I are going to do a reassessment to see how I score when screened for PTSD.  One goal I set (among many) for this year is to be un-diagnosable by the end of 2014.  I am well on my way.  When I asked my therapist about his impression of the speed of my recovery he replied that he had never seen someone with a past trauma history as extensive as my own heal so quickly.  You can achieve a lot through sheer determination.

I also spoke today of how it still doesn't feel normal to feel normal.  By that I mean it still feels quite strange to not be affected by an anxiety disorder.  I do not know what a typical arc of healing (in length of time) is for a person whose anxiety disorder began early in childhood.  So many factors can affect both the development of a pathological condition as well as the healing thereof.  Looking back it seems that my shamanic journey in late November acted as the catalyst for the acceleration of my healing process.

Tonight I am going to attend a lecture (in honor of the memory of Martin Luther King, Jr.) at All God's Children Metropolitan Community Church.  I look forward to being around familiar faces and sharing time with people who have similar values.

Tomorrow morning I will be going to see my physical therapist for a follow up on my shoulder.  The new order for additional physical therapy visits suggested up to four appointments.  I hope to only need two at most.  I did the prescribed exercises today at the YMCA; my left shoulder is now beginning to feel relatively normal.  My range of motion and strength have both improved.








Sunday, January 19, 2014

This Ponderous, Leaden Grief

Sunday, January 19, 2014


This grief within me sometimes feels like its behavior resembles the ocean.  It comes upon me in waves.  Some days I feel inundated.  Other days the wave of grief recedes and more 'positive', light emotions predominate.  Today has been another mixed day.  I felt good throughout much of the day.  Now, upon arriving home, the sadness within me feels immense.

I went to All God's Children Metropolitan Community Church this morning for the 10 am service.  It was probably the most well attended service I have seen since I started attending last September.  The new pastor is a very engaging, enthusiastic man; I can imagine the congregation will grow in size in the coming months and years.  I was even asked if I might be willing to consider doing some training in the near future to assume a more active role within the church.  That is something I will have to ponder over the coming weeks.  I already have plenty on my plate.

Earlier this afternoon I attended a workshop.  I'm going to spare the details of the experience in this posting simply because sharing more now will take this blog in a direction I am not quite ready to imagine going...at least not yet.  Suffice it to say that when I began my journey of recovery from PTSD last summer I decided to allow myself to think openly and imagine all sorts of possibilities for the future of my life.  I believe it is important that I cultivate such a spirit of openness and willingness to entertain many different options given my existing professional background, my interests and the burden that the pain I have carried around has caused me throughout so much of my life.  It still feels so weird not to be anxious all the time!

Today was the mildest day we have had in some time here in Minneapolis.  The roads are a sloppy or wet mess because the temperature reached about 40F!  I was able to walk the dogs without a coat on!  The icy vise of winter relaxed its grip on us.  It was a welcome reminder that one day, when the sun's power has grown sufficiently strong, the ice will melt, the soils will thaw and the trees will bloom.  Until then I am focused on continuing to do my grief work.  And what work it is.

This coming week is going to prove an eventful week for me.  I'm finally essentially ready to communicate with other members of my paternal family regarding my wants and needs.  I am not holding out any hope that I will receive a stellar and amazingly supportive response.  But I need to be myself and speak from my heart...as painful and scary as it may be.  Courage is my greatest ally now.

Also important will be my visit to a podiatrist on Thursday.  I am hoping for the best.  I pray I will not have some sort of new journey of physical therapy ahead of me to address whatever the issue is in my left foot.  But I will do what is necessary.  I will not cease until my life is as I wish it to be.  Who knows how long that might take!



Saturday, January 18, 2014

Naming My Losses As a Means of Exploring the Terrain of Grief

Saturday, January 18, 2014


I found myself feeling a bit weary of winter when I went outside this morning.  The temperature wasn't intolerable at all when I went out; it was in the upper teens.  Considering that we are currently traversing that time which is typically the coldest time of year according to climatology it could be much colder.  Another light snowfall overnight covered up the darkest grays of old snow and renewed the freshness of the landscape.  I suppose I am simply anxious for the new season of life to begin.  I want to experience Spring...and soon.  And I know it will be here one day.

As for now I am focusing on the psychic work most suited to the season of Winter.  I am looking more deeply into my grief.  What follows now is a continuation of my writing from yesterday.  In this pamphlet entitled "Loss of Dreams: A Special Kind of Grief" Ted Bowman explores the experience of losing both the tangible and intangible.  He references two writers, Kenneth Mitchell and Herbert Anderson, and describes the categories of loss they articulated.  They are as follows:

1) Material loss are the losses associated with physical objects or surroundings

2) Relationship losses are those involving ending of opportunities to relate oneself to, talk with, share experiences with, make love to, touch, settle issues with, fight with, and otherwise be in the emotional and/or physical presence of a particular human being

3) Functional losses are those in which we lose some parts of the muscular or neurological functions of the body

4) Role losses refer to the loss of a specific role or one's accustomed place in a social network

5) Systemic losses is a category not often used.  They use it to describe losses when changes in systems affect us.  An example is the organizational change that results in layoffs, restructuring, or down-sizing

6) Intrapsychic losses are likened to the experience of losing an emotionally important image of oneself, losing the possibilities of "what might have been", abandonment of plans for a particular future and the dying of a dream.


As I contemplate this system of categories I realize I have experienced several of these types of loss in the last few years.  Below is my first attempt to list out my losses in reference to the listing above.

1) I have moved frequently in the last few years in search of a suitable job market and place to call home.  The moribund economy combined with the socioeconomic and cultural realities of several places I attempted to create a life for myself (Portland, OR and Washington, DC) led me to move on and attempt to find a place for myself in other places.  And yet I think part of what I was dealing with relates to #5.  I will address that more shortly.

2) When I saw my mother last May it was both an enjoyable and painful experience.  Seeing her now affected by a degree of dementia caused me to realize that certain wishful thinking and hoping I had previously entertained was something I could no longer do.  My birthmother was never the person I had so often hoped she would have been for me. (And neither was my father)  Being in the physical presence of my mother will never again be the same as it once was before.  That time is gone now...and it isn't possible for me to reverse the progression of time.

3) Simultaneous to these losses I was also experiencing some impairment in my physical health.  I was thus experiencing some functional loss.  Thankfully I have been able to restore my health due to my rigorous commitment to physical and psychotherapy.  Overall my own health is now better than it has ever been. And yet the issue of functional loss is one to remain mindful of.  Now that I have restored my health such that I can enjoy a quality of life I never previously could my intention is to maintain and continue to further improve my physical fitness.

4) Role losses can go hand in hand with material losses.  Every time I relocated I had to create a social network once again.  This takes time and energy.  As I plot out my future I am mindful of the need to be strategic in my decision making such that I can minimize the risk of any excessive hardship that could prove traumatic to my well being.

5) I believe there is a profound transformation occurring not just in the United States but also throughout the world.  We are seeing the limits of old ways of thinking in regards to creating and operating our economies and managing our natural resources.  Endless capitalism is simply not going to work.  The Earth has finite boundaries and we as a species have now developed into a force that can now literally reshape the world.

Moving away from a macro-level perspective towards a more local one I sense that the economy here in the United States will also never be the same again.  Globalization, technological development, the offshoring of jobs and other factors are reshaping our economy and many others.  There are many losers in the outcomes...and I believe the American people are, on a whole, among these loser classes.  A systemic unwillingness to collaborate and compromise within our governance structure (at the federal, state and local levels) is allowing our infrastructure and human capital to suffer.  This is not a way to run a nation!

6) The losses I have already enunciated have impacted my own personal development and sense of self in the world.  With the world around me changing so quickly and in so many ways I realize I simply cannot be the person I once was.  Some of the changes I have gone through are simply to be expected as I have grown more mature (you can read older here as a synonym).  My unexpected diagnosis of PTSD last summer led me to abandon my former career trajectory.  I instead found myself needing time to contemplate the resources available to me, my desires and my greatest hopes.  I see that I will soon be emerging from this period of review, renewal and gestation.  A new Me is emergent now...and the new Me will be one more suited to the world around me as well as the needs and priorities I have.


Despite being quite short in length the pamphlet I have referenced provided me ample fodder to begin plumbing my grief more deeply.  To recognize and work through my grief I first had to take the time to name the losses that I am dealing with.  In writing about them today I am taking yet another step on my road to full recovery and wellness.

I am at the downtown YMCA now.  I will be sitting in the sauna for a period of time as one means of hopefully ridding myself of a low grade headache that has been tickling my awareness since this morning.  I woke up yet again with some neck pain.  I hope that a nice afternoon stay at the gym will help me work out some of my pain.



Friday, January 17, 2014

My Immunization Record is Finally Current

Friday, January 17, 2014


When I secured a good health insurance plan on June 1st of last year I had no idea what a roller coaster ride I would find myself on as I became the most proactive I have ever been in regards to maintaining and improving my health.  As I consulted with a variety of doctors to address the list of health concerns I had I initially felt overwhelmed by the list of diagnoses that eventually formed in my online medical record.  I can easily access my record online and sometimes still laugh when I look at the listing.  But I certainly was not laughing last summer.  No, I was quite angry at the time.

Many of my closest friends know just how angry I was then.  My PTSD diagnosis was quite a shock; I spent much time in therapy earlier in my life only to discover the therapy I had undergone had not successfully completely addressed my issues.  Psychotherapy in particular and medicine in general is still both an art and a science so I don't hold any grudge now towards the practitioners I saw in the past.  EMDR, a therapy I have successfully used to treat the impact of the trauma I experienced early in my own development, is still a relatively new therapy.  But having used it with such great success I can say now that I am a great proponent of it.  Nothing has radically revolutionized my life as much as EMDR therapy.  The shamanic journey-work I did with local practitioner Mary Rutherford was also tremendously helpful.

I completed another important process this morning.  My immunization record is finally complete and current.  I do not need anything outside of the standard annual flu shot until the year 2018.  It's such a relief to have this process finally complete.  No I have only three major processes left: 1) Address the issue with my left foot that has been troubling me since the summer of 2012, 2) complete my physical therapy for my left shoulder and 3) complete my treatment for PTSD.  Compared to the litany of issues I had going on when I first began seeking treatment last summer my remaining list is quite light!  I feel very proud of myself for remaining committed to my healing process in the midst of such a challenging pile of problems.  A related intention I have is to never find myself in such a scenario again.

The days are growing longer now but there is no evidence yet of any significant change in the weather. This is typical considering how the coldest and warmest days of the year lag behind the corresponding winter and summer solstices by several weeks on average.  And yet it appears next weekend might be nearly as cold as the Revenge of the Polar Vortex episode we had in the first week of January.  But at least the darkness is receding!  One day it will be spring and the trees will emerge from their dormancy and burst forth in green splendor.  I am so excited to see how I will feel when this particular spring arrives.  I sense it will be like no other.


Yesterday I finally did something else healthy as well.  I distracted myself with some informative reading while riding the bus around town.  I read about the phenomenon of loss of dreams in a pamphlet entitled 'Loss of Dreams: A Special Kind of Grief' written by Ted Bowman.  This pamphlet provided me a good template to begin to better articulate the grief I have been carrying around for so long.  It was my deepest grief that was awakened last year when I traveled to Germany in May.

The grief of losing my mother to schizophrenia was (and is) such a deep grief.  It found a place within me so early in my life and remain there all these years.  When my parents separated and my mother returned to Germany I was not able to grieve the loss of her presence in my life.  But then again how do you teach a child who is only about four years of age to grieve?  Grief is difficult enough to create a space for when you are a healthy, happy, high functioning adult.  But being four years old and dealing with such a loss is incredibly painful and demanding.  And I didn't exactly have the most functional father to instruct me in the ways of grief.  He was naturally also deeply impacted by the loss of my mother.

It's my sense that our culture (America) and many others would be much healthier if men were better trained to deal with the phenomenon of grief.  The inability of men to confront and work through the experience of grief is such a tragedy and, in my opinion, it scars all too many people's lives.  Emotional crippling of youth has so many unfortunate implications.  And so does inadequate mentoring of boys.  Can you even allow yourself to contemplate the loss of quality of life so many men suffer because they cannot even bring themselves to that edge of the ocean of grief they may carry and whose contours they fear exploring?

I don't know about anyone else but I have decided it is time to dive in.  I would rather drown while discovering what is within my grief than walk always along the shore of my ocean of grief and never allow myself to explore the lessons and healing I might find by jumping in.  I salute the courage within me that I am drawing upon as I jump in.  Courage is the companion we must welcome when we wish to live amazing, productive, memorable lives full of love, friendship and prosperity.

Time to leap!





Thursday, January 16, 2014

Going Deeply Within during the Heart of Winter

Thursday, January 16, 2014


The moon was full recently.  I went out walking with the dogs and noticed the beautiful light of the moon illuminating the snowy landscape.  The beauty of winter is so different from that of other seasons.  The whiteness of the snow covered world can soften the rough edges we see more easily in other seasons.  Sound travels differently as well because the atmosphere is so much colder.  Have you ever noticed the difference between a passenger plan flying overhead in winter compared to one in summer?  It is remarkable.

I am staying at home much of today so that I can get myself better organized and clear my focus.  There are still many loose ends to tie up.  I continue to grow stronger every day.  I am delighted by what my future can potentially hold as I continue on my course of healing.  I have such an amazing amount of energy despite the dormancy of the world outside my windows.  I cannot recall a time when I have handled the season of winter so well.

This evening after assisting with dinner service at the Aliveness Project I went to Pathways Health Resource Center and participated in a Laughter Yoga class.  It was the first time I have ever done 'laughter yoga'.  And I was the only participant!  So I felt I was a bit in the spotlight.  As I made my way home I pondered the topics of grief and laughter.  I came to feel that laughter is, in one sense, the opposite side of grief.  It is its counterpoint.  I have had too much grief in my life and not enough laughter.  This is just another way to articulate a fundamental imbalance in my life that I need to change for the good of my own long term health.

The temperature dropped precipitously over the course of the day.  It was dark and cold when I arrived home.  I found myself wanting spring to arrive sooner rather than later...certainly sooner than it did last year.  The wind chill is below 0F now.  But the most sobering news of all is that we might have a cold weather outbreak on par with what we experienced ten days ago about ten days from now.  We are traversing those days in which winter is at its peak power.

In other news, I will finally complete another important step in my therapeutic process in the next few weeks.  I spoke with my therapist yesterday about what I feel is a healthy way to move forward in regards to my paternal family of origin.


Wednesday, January 15, 2014

The Return of the Alpha Male

Wednesday, January 15, 2014


As I noted in a posting last month my therapy has progressed far enough that the veneer I once presented to the world has crumbled away.  My real personality is finally beginning to show through in a consistent way.  Though people who have known me for a long time are almost sure to recognize my physical appearance they are much less likely to perhaps recognize my personality.  I have a strong alpha male in me that I have rarely fully shown to the world.  It might have emerged earlier in my life had I had more examples of strong male personalities to look to for guidance and support.  But I hid my alpha male power because I simply felt too beaten down by the various involuntary experiences I was subjected to.  Now, having gone through a sufficient amount of therapy, the real me is emerging.

My own personal life journey leads me to believe that one doesn't overcome the impact of having an anxiety disorder for about thirty-five years overnight.  It takes time to heal and revolutionize your life.  But it can happen...and I see it happening in my own life.  I am rapidly changing and healing.  And yet even so this transformation in which I am moving in the direction of a life I want to live is not something that lacks grief.  Grief is a part of the process.  Grieving is a part of the process.  I am working on that grieving process now.  It is the step I now find myself in as I continue therapy.

Exercise has become one way I have been doing my grief work.  I feel that I missed out on so much in my 'younger' years because the impact of trauma was clouding my vision, burdening my heart and weighing heavy on my mind.  Thus even when I was out in the world doing amazing and enjoyable things I was not fully present to the experience.  I thus was not fully experiencing what was around me because I myself was not completely there.  A part of my consciousness was not present.  Now that long burden is gone.  Waking up to a life without a traumatized mind is certainly an amazing process.  And some days it nearly scares me witless.  And then other days I feel an exhilaration I never thought possible.  It feels like I am a teenager all over again!

My traumatized personality was quite passive.  Rather than act as a powerful agent in the world I too often acted in response to what the world presented to me.  I wasn't really a pro-active person.  Now I am living a proactive life.  And wow what a difference that has made!






Tuesday, January 14, 2014

The Light at the End of the Physical Therapy Tunnel

Tuesday, January 14, 2014


I finally can clearly discern the end of the physical therapy process I have been undergoing these last several months.  I went to see my physical therapist at HCMC Parkside Alternative Medicine Clinic this morning.  Yesterday I scheduled a reevaluation of my left shoulder with the physical therapist I was previously seeing within the Abbott Hospital system.  Every aspect of my health continues to improve.  I am confident that I will be done with my physical therapy process by the beginning of March.  I believe this is a very realistic expectation to have; it seems likely I will complete my shoulder work well before that date.  Setting realistic goals is very important.

I met with my former (and now again current) physical therapist at Abbott Northwestern Hospital to reassess my shoulder.  I simply need some fine tuning now rather than any major work.  What a relief that is!  I want to be able to take up a more high-energy demanding activity like boxing or kick-boxing in the near future.  Once my shoulders are a bit stronger and more stabilized I will have at it.  Pursuing a more expressive and aggressive form of physical activity will also help me with the final resolution of my PTSD.

On that note I plan to ask my psychotherapist to reassess me when I see him tomorrow.  I believe it is very possible that I might be un-diagnosable for PTSD by this coming summer.  What a treat it will be to feel fully restored in mind and body!

I enjoyed a lovely lunch at the Germanic American Institute in St. Paul earlier today.  I went for a number of reasons: 1) I love German food, 2) I wish to expand my network of career contacts and 3) I want to hear others speaking in my mother's language.  It's a good way for me to keep my mind sharp for my future endeavors.

It snowed last night.  But the days are growing longer each day.  This evening I went for a walk with my roommate's dogs.  The nearly full moon illuminated the freshly fallen snow.  It was a striking sight to behold.



Monday, January 13, 2014

Starting Over at Forty: Drinking With My Eyes

Monday, January 13, 2014


I found myself feeling better and better as the hours ticked away yesterday.  I feel blessed to have some very good friends who will listen to me and show me love and compassion.  I need plenty of that.

As I stood waiting for the bus last night the phrase 'drinking with my eyes' came to me yet again.  I found myself looking at the white Christmas lights in the trees lining Nicollet Mall on the north edge of downtown and recalling another holiday season many years ago when I first was given eyeglasses as a kid.  I can still remember how all these little white lights strung through trees inside the mall suddenly became crystal clear when I put those glasses on.  I had no idea at the time that the grief within me was distorting my vision.

I now find myself finally feeling ready to disentangle the various strands of grief within me.  Diving through my excess anger led me to a reservoir of grief.  As I have progressed forward these last six months I have also found myself feeling a new form of grief.  As it has become increasingly clear just how long I had been under the influence of an anxiety disorder I have realized how I have rarely functioned in my life in a way that allowed for clear perception of the world around me.  To experience such anxiety for over three decades and then to gradually come to that realization is no small matter.  It's a huge leap forward in my own evolution.  And yet it's painful to realize the quality of my life was being consistently undermined by this anxiety for so very long.

The world around me feels so magical now.  I find myself feeling as if I have a voracious appetite for everything...especially attractive men.  Every time an attractive man crosses my path I find myself struggling not to stare; I want to drink in his beauty with my eyes.  I notice the vast variety of colors and forms in a way I never have before.  Subtle variations in light intrigue me.  The innumerable hues in the sky also captivate me.  There now seems to never be a dull moment.





Sunday, January 12, 2014

Navigating the Never Dull World

Sunday, January 12, 2014



I went out last night in the hope of seeing some good friends.  And though I did see some people I consider friends I also, unfortunately, saw two people I would rather have never met earlier in my life.  I went home earlier than I had planned.  Before the bus picked me up I found myself sobbing outside in the darkness of a thankfully mild winter night.

I am so tired of being hurt.  I am so very exhausted by the impact of so many experiences in which I have placed my trust in another person or organization and then had my trust deeply violated by the conduct of said person or organization.  I see that one of my seminal life issues is that of the injustice of living in a world when there are no consequences for the thoughtless, unethical, amoral, vindictive and (or) even dangerous conduct of other human beings.  I know there are many people out there who have experienced such pain and disenfranchisement.  History, recent and otherwise, is replete with such examples.  And yet somehow it doesn't make it much easier for me to go through what I am going through now even knowing this easily verifiable truth.

It's very difficult for me to be around people who have such serious issues that they cannot bring themselves to confront.  That was much of my life story growing up.  I feel that my father's family continually avoided acknowledging my father's very serious issues even though such avoidance put me at very real risk of harm.  Being in denial was apparently more important than my own safety.  I've had this thought and the associated feelings many times and maybe it will bore some of my devoted readers to see it again in print but that's simply how I feel and I am very aware of it again today due to seeing some similarly 'tuned out' people last night.  But then again isn't that something you are likely to see at a bar?  Bars are a magnet for alcoholics and others wishing to drink their troubles away; it's probably best for someone like myself to seek friendship, connection, brotherhood, etc elsewhere while I am still actively pursuing my recovery from PTSD.  I recall earlier in my recovery that I made a commitment to myself to refrain from activities that would put me at risk by hindering my recovery.  I believe it may be time to reassess my activities in the spirit of this commitment.

Despite the downward plunge I experienced last night I am doing well overall.  I have additional physical therapy and acupuncture appointments to complete in the coming weeks.  I feel quite solid from my waist down now.  As I continue to work on my left shoulder I want to put a plan in place to further build and rebuild my upper body.  My revised goal is to be complete with all active physical therapy activities no later than March 1st.