Monday, March 31, 2014

How Monsters Are Made

Monday, March 31, 2014


Today was my first day working at the United Hospital Hospice Foundation in St. Paul. Perhaps this current job will lead to something much bigger later on. I remain skeptical. And that is probably a healthy thing.  And maybe it is a bit unhealthy as well. I am quite confused these days. I am trying to gain a firmer sense of what is real and what is an illusion. This isn't exactly easy.

Inspiration for my daily writing comes to me at the strangest of times on occasion. My topic for today came to me while I was at work. So how are monsters made?

I think one sure way to create a monster is to continually fail to hold a person accountable for their actions. There is a stage of human development, sometimes known as 'The Terrible Twos', that instantly comes to mind when I think on this topic. Many of us have seen it on display when a child acts inconsolable and will not cooperate in any way unless any and all of his demands are met. Indeed, children can display the intractability of mules and cause extreme consternation to their parents. I don't have the perfect recipe for creating human monsters but I am convinced that giving people a pass (also known as never holding a person accountable for what he is in fact responsible for) over and over again is one sure ingredient that will catalyze the development of the worst of human monsters.

If you have been following my blog recently I think you will have a sense of where this posting is going. I wrote recently about psychopaths and allowed myself to wonder 'aloud' in this publicly visible forum whether my own father may in fact be one. Some disorders are difficult to diagnose because the symptoms associated with it may be difficult to discern. I think psychopathy must be a bit like this. One of the greatest horrors may indeed be the intelligent psychopath. This is someone who is sufficiently self-aware and intelligent such that he is able to pass for a normal, healthy person and yet all the while wreak havoc in people's lives. I have been wondering if I have met at least one during the time I have lived in Minnesota. Sad to say but I think there is more than one person who has crossed my path who might easily be interpreted to be a psychopath. And this leaves me wondering about my own judgment. It is easy to look back in hindsight and see how my own clarity of vision was blurred by un-expunged grief.

One supposed advantage of growing up around too much mental illness is that it can leave you with a strong ability to sense such illness in others in the general public. Do you understand what I mean?  Have you ever met a person for the first time and immediately been overcome with a sense that something is simply 'off' about the person? Perhaps you cannot even name it in words but nonetheless you feel this uneasy feeling that there is something very dark inside their minds, souls or bodies. I have experienced this many a time.

Without having read up more on the phenomenon of psychopathic people I have to say an indicator of the disorder that particularly troubles me is the lack of remorse or understanding of the consequences that an action may result in that can be found in people who are psychopaths. This one indicator alone does not a psychopath make but I think it's an excellent indicator to be mindful of.





Sunday, March 30, 2014

If You Want Peace Work For Justice

Sunday, March 30, 2014


I am trying to breathe and relax this morning. It is not an easy activity. I am still quite upset. I realize I am going to have to let go...not just of the horrible memories I have from the way I was mistreated by some of the members of the Twin Cities Gay Men's Chorus...but also of the other times in my life when the behavior of others has let me down or even caused me grave harm. But letting go can be such an arduous process.

I know there are several deeper reasons why what happened last summer so upset me:
  •  I was "putting all my eggs in one basket"
  •  I felt thwarted in my simple desire to do something pleasurable that would bring me joy
  •  I once again trusted people who later demonstrated they were not trustworthy in the slightest
  •  I My life seemed to be without great joy or reward for a very long while

It's clear I invested too much energy in one place, namely the chorus I have spoken of. I should have diversified my activities and explored other communities of people at the same time. If I had done that the loss of this one outlet would not have been such an immense blow.

I didn't have enough opportunity as a child to play in a carefree way. I think inadequate play time can distort a person's developmental process later on. I haven't read up on this aspect of human development much but I sense it to be very true. Without balance our lives can quickly become drudgery.

I seem to have a habit of picking out the very people from a larger group who will later go on to leave me feeling immensely betrayed. Why do I keep picking out people who deeply violate my trust? Why do the people I give my trust to so often prove themselves so unworthy of my trust? These are questions I have been posing in therapy.

I have firmly come to appreciate the reality that a peaceful and prosperous society is made possible in large part by being a just one in which opportunity is truly open to all. When opportunity is lacking or when discrimination and corruption are rampant it is easy for people to become cynical, alienated, bitter and, if they go too far down the path paved with these dark qualities, they will (inevitably?) become angry, violent and vengeful. It's no wonder so many people in this nation have been suffering lately.  There has been relatively little opportunity. But there has been plenty of greed and avoidance of the real issues in this nation.

I want a way out.  Today is the New Moon in Aries.  I pray a new and better path is opening to me now.


Saturday, March 29, 2014

Protesting

Saturday, March 29, 2014


"I think you doth protest too much."

I am wondering how many people will think that tonight when I protest here at Ted Mann Concert Hall on the University of Minnesota campus. I have been very circumspect and careful in my thought process as I debated the value of protesting the Twin Cities Gay Men's Chorus's concert tonight.

In one sense I find it difficult to do this because it is not characteristic of the person I once was. In other words, the person I was before I finally found good, truly successful treatment last summer would not have been so determined to make a statement publicly in the form of a protest. I did not grow up in a family that really protests much of anything. And yet I realize in the very fiber of my being that the person I am revealing this evening by protesting is completely true to the person I really am.

...

My plan to protest did not unfold as I had planned. I had a University of Minnesota Police officer approach me while I was on campus and inform me I could not actually be inside Ted Mann Concert Hall without a ticket. Apparently my intention to protest had raised the ire of at least a few people within the organization. I was going to walk around to the front of the building and stand at least twenty-five feet from the entrance and protest but before I could complete the walk I ran into two people I know from the Executive Committee of the chorus. After a conversation in the increasingly chilly wind I decided to leave.

It's time for me to let this go.  I cannot extract any real measure of justice regarding what I went through last summer.  And I don't want to be reminded of it anymore.  I want to move forward.





Thursday, March 27, 2014

Playing Detective: Scouring the Past for Clues

Thursday, March 27, 2014


It's finally warm enough to rain here in Minneapolis.  We call this progress towards Spring.  It's not even 8:00 a.m. and gray light is filtering in the windows as I attempt to wake up and do something I have done many, many times.  I am trying to remember the past as a way of liberating myself and welcoming immense future possibility.

When I met with my therapist this week I asked him to prepare a statement that I could keep as documentation for possible use when I attend a week long Workforce Center training the week of April 7-11th.  I asked him to make an educated guess about something that is not at all inconsequential and likely not at all easy.  I asked him to make an educated guess, based on his knowledge of my personal history, as to when my PTSD first actually developed.  Considering a correct and vague answer to this question is probably 'very early in my personal development' this may prove to be quite a task.

One challenge I face is that people I might try to speak to for clues are themselves not necessarily reliable sources of information.  Why?  Because their own capacity for healthy recall of the past is, in my opinion, questionable.  Yes, that is my opinion and opinions can be incorrect or misguided.  But now that I am the healthiest I have ever been in my life (and I believe this is a correct assessment) I feel inclined to believe my own opinion has merit.

It's my understanding from what research I have done on PTSD that individuals can develop this stress disorder even if they are not the actual person who directly experienced the traumatic event.  It thus follows that parents, siblings, children, partners and perhaps even friends of an individual impacted by a traumatic event could potentially develop the disorder themselves depending on the particular circumstances under consideration.  For example, if a person experiences and survives torture or survives a horrific accident the emotional distress that person exhibits later might be so severe as to truly  (and vicariously in a sense) traumatize people who are closely connected with that individual.  It thus follows that speaking to my father's siblings about his health as well as my own might not be a valuable use of my time.  I believe their own judgment is sufficiently questionable as to render them not valid contacts to speak with in regards to my earliest life history.

I certainly do not think attempting to speak with my father himself is a wise idea because I believe he himself has untreated PTSD due to the attempted murder that nearly claimed his own life at the age of forty.  He has chosen to take the route of never seeking out any sort of intensive counseling for this trauma and other stressors in his life.  At least that is what I understand to be true.  I do not agree with his choice but I respect it nonetheless.  Unfortunately, however, his choice leads me to eliminate him as a credible source of correct information about my earliest years of life as well.

I cannot speak to my own mother to play detective because she now has a degree of dementia and has been in lifelong supervised care for her schizophrenia.  The stress of asking her to dig into her own memory of my childhood is not something I would wish to subject her to (and I don't believe I would be allowed to do so by her doctor even if I wanted to).

In a sense I am thus thrown back onto my own resources and my own memory.  I can look for clues to my early life history in pictures, letters and other records of my earliest years.  I am going to have to play detective.  And this might be as challenging as when I went through those difficult times in 'real time'.


Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Is There An Ethical Obligation To Act?

Wednesday, March 26, 2014


I met with Fr. Bauer of the Basilica of St. Mary this past weekend.  I sought out an opportunity to meet with him because I have been seeking to find some way to find that illustrious gift known as 'closure' regarding questions that have lingered in my mind for many years.  I specifically wanted to glean his insight as to whether Catholic teaching includes anything that I would call 'an ethical obligation to act'.  Allow me to explain.

Something that has long confused me is the response (or apparent lack thereof) my father's siblings (and his parents) made in the immediate days following the attempted murder that nearly claimed his life.  I have spoken of this time period in my life previously in my blog.  An entry from last year (written on August 9, 2013) specifically devoted to this topic is entitled 'June 3, 1982'.  Basically, it had always confused me how people who consider themselves practicing Catholics would not show more curiosity regarding one of their own siblings if said sibling was nearly murdered by his own spouse.  There are certain incidents that quite naturally ought to spur an investigation or at least raise the curiosity of people.  I think attempted murder would fit within this category.  Apparently I am unique in my thoughts in this regard in relation to the event I am referencing.  You see I simply could not understand how a reasonable person of sound mind would not wonder if perhaps there were more serious issues in a household in which such violence erupts.

If I had grown up with no ethical frame of reference based in a religious tradition I suspect I would not feel as I do.  Not to sound trite but there can be something valuable to imagining 'what Jesus would do' in a given scenario.  And I cannot imagine that Jesus would take attempted murder very lightly.  Such an incident has a way of violating that particular commandment to not kill.

In speaking with Fr. Bauer I essentially learned there is apparently no formalized doctrine or tenet that conceives of something such as an ethical obligation to act.  However, what does exist that is relevant is  Jesus's instruction to love one another.  The question, of course, is what does loving one another tangibly look like?  For example, there are some whose theology is so warped that they believe vilifying, killing or discriminating against gay people somehow glorifies God.  In my opinion any theology that promotes the denigration, disrespect or destruction of anything naturally occurring in the world is a warped theology.  One can find plenty of such 'theology' in the United States.  Such warped thinking infuses much of the 'Christian' Right in this country.  Is this my opinion?  Yes.  Is this verifiable fact?  I would say it is.

I suppose I will never understand the behavior of many people in general as well as some members of my family of origin in particular.  And I have struggled with attempting to reconcile my confusion.  I have attempted to be an active part of the lives of people whom I love and yet whose behavior confounds me.  And I realize I can find a way to do this...to a point.  Past a certain point it simply feels very unhealthy to me.  And I need to honor how I feel.


In the last month I have felt as if my progress forward has come to a screeching halt.  But as I noted in speaking with my therapist last night we all need to take rest breaks from time to time.  I cannot be 'on' twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.  There must be a balance in life.  And gradually, just as the snow is gradually melting outside, I am finding my way back to balance.




Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Quality Time


Tuesday, March 25, 2014


It feels like January again.  It’s late March.  I am a winter weary non-native Minnesotan who is about ready to start planting palm trees (if I had access to any!) outside as an act of defiance against the winter cold.  Old Man Winter has become for many of us the unwelcome house guest who doesn’t seem to know how to leave.  Eventually he will be shoved out by the growing strength of the sunshine.  It has to happen eventually.

I’m sitting on the bus on my way to work.  This is the best time of day for me to write now that I am a working man again.  And yet I consider this blog my own work that I hope eventually will lead to something greater.  The focus of my thoughts today is quality time.

I will be meeting with my therapist this evening.  And I will be bringing up the less than desirable topic of the quality of his own presence.  Some time after I first began seeing him I learned that he has a sleep disorder.  I have felt some concern in the past that this affects the quality of the time I have when I see him each week.  And I have felt that concern again recently.  The quality of my own ‘life-time’ has been on my mind lately as I continue to go through the grieving process of waking up to the fact that much of my earlier life was marked by a lesser quality of life.  As I have noted in past entries I was not aware that I was not perceiving the world clearly until I discovered the amazing therapeutic benefit of EMDR.  It is, however, still difficult to quantify just how much of my improvement is solely attributable to EMDR.  I made so many positive changes in my life since last June that there are many factors at play.

It’s amazing when I think of how many years passed in which I was not experiencing the world with the clarity that I do now.  I grieve the fact that so many years passed in which I perceived the world as if looking through a smudged window.  I did not see clearly the beauty of the world around me.  And I did not clearly see my own beauty.

Yesterday evening I again caught myself noticing the clarity with which my vision  now meets the world.  The days have sufficiently lengthened such that I can enjoy the beauty of an evening with daylight still filling the world.  I find great delight in being able to see so clearly.  And then I feel immense grief that it wasn’t until I was essentially forty years old that I began to see the world in this way.  Grief is my heaviest companion.  It is no wonder that I cried so much this past Sunday.  Healing can be such a long term process.

I am also recognizing the very real possibility that I might never answer some of the many questions I have about my father.  Like the relatives of those apparently forever lost on the Malaysian Airlines plane that appears to have disappeared into the south Indian Ocean who may never know the full story of what happened to their relatives I may never have answers to some of my own questions to allow me to have that seemingly elusive ‘gift’ called closure.  Will I have closure?  Apparently not in the most healthy way I will not.  And I will have to find a way to move on with my life nonetheless.




Sunday, March 23, 2014

Was (Is) My Father a Psychopath?

Sunday, March 23, 2014


I almost feel as if I need a warning label for this posting.  I doubt my blog is being shared with minors or what would be called vulnerable adults but I feel as if I should preface this entry by stating this content is not light and fluffy in the slightest.  It's ponderous and heavy.  It is very, very heavy.

Sometimes I believe I would be much worse off now if I had not decided to commit to writing this blog last summer.  There are other moments when I wonder how I managed to find myself in this scenario.  How did I manage to become so burned out and not even realize it?  How did I find myself in this psychic place?  And how do I get out?  What is the way out?  The way out seems to require me going right into the thick heart of my grief.  Oh joy.

These thoughts have been tickling at my conscious awareness lately.  I have been wondering if perhaps my father was or is a psychopath.  This is a serious claim to make.  And I in no way intend to assassinate his character in this very publicly accessible forum.  One reason I decided to use a different name for my profile on this blog was that I wanted to be able to speak openly about some extremely difficult topics.  This is obviously one of them.

Yesterday, after speaking with Fr. Bauer at the Basilica of St. Mary, I decided to do a bit of browsing and look up the indicators of psychopathy.  As I read through the listing I did recognize a bit of my father in some of the list.  Below appears a list of psychopathy symptoms taken directly from this site.

I have highlighted the ones that stand out as appearing to apply to my father.  I added some additional commentary at a later time (1/10/2015).


Robert Hare’s Checklist of Psychopathy Symptoms:

1. GLIB AND SUPERFICIAL CHARM — the tendency to be smooth, engaging, charming, slick, and verbally facile. Psychopathic charm is not in the least shy, self-conscious, or afraid to say anything. A psychopath never gets tongue-tied. He can also be a great listener, to simulate empathy while zeroing in on his targets’ dreams and vulnerabilities, to be able to manipulate them better.

2. GRANDIOSE SELF-WORTH — a grossly inflated view of one’s abilities and self-worth, self-assured, opinionated, cocky, a braggart. Psychopaths are arrogant people who believe they are superior human beings.

3. NEED FOR STIMULATION or PRONENESS TO BOREDOM — an excessive need for novel, thrilling, and exciting stimulation; taking chances and doing things that are risky. Psychopaths often have a low self-discipline in carrying tasks through to completion because they get bored easily. They fail to work at the same job for any length of time, for example, or to finish tasks that they consider dull or routine.

Though I do not recall this to be characteristic of my father's behavior I do see this as one of my own issues. I can become bored quite easily.  But I attribute this to the fact that I am really bright and want to do something much bigger than what I am doing now (1/10/2015).

4. PATHOLOGICAL LYING — can be moderate or high; in moderate form, they will be shrewd, crafty, cunning, sly, and clever; in extreme form, they will be deceptive, deceitful, underhanded, unscrupulous, manipulative and dishonest.
In my own inner self-talk I have used the term 'pathological liar' to describe my father.  The biggest and most damaging lie he ever told involved the circumstances surrounding the attempted murder that nearly claimed his life in June, 1982.

Also frustrating has been the way he has responded in my later attempts to better understand that time in his life (and mine).  Though he has previously expressed supposed remorse for 'any parental failings on my part' (his own words) he would then later engage in some of the very same harmful behavior.


5. CONNING AND MANIPULATIVENESS: the use of deceit and deception to cheat, con, or defraud others for personal gain; distinguished from Item #4 in the degree to which exploitation and callous ruthlessness is present, as reflected in a lack of concern for the feelings and suffering of one’s victims.

6. LACK OF REMORSE OR GUILT:  a lack of feelings or concern for the losses, pain, and suffering of victims; a tendency to be unconcerned, dispassionate, coldhearted and unempathic. This item is usually demonstrated by a disdain for one’s victims.

This issue is very much connected to indicator number four.  My father has long been a person who does not express much empathy or concern for the suffering of others.  I don't understand why that is. I have certainly thought about it plenty.  I have wondered if he has undisclosed and unhealed traumas of his own that he never dealt with in a healthy way.

7. SHALLOW AFFECT:  emotional poverty or a limited range or depth of feelings; interpersonal coldness in spite of signs of open gregariousness and superficial warmth.

8. CALLOUSNESS and LACK OF EMPATHY:  a lack of feelings toward people in general; cold, contemptuous, inconsiderate, and tactless.
This issue is very much connected to indicator number six.  I can still recall my father telling a very racist joke about the African American people of New Orleans.  On other occasions he has not been hesitant to share his grim sentiments on other minorities.



9. PARASITIC LIFESTYLE: an intentional, manipulative, selfish, and exploitative financial dependence on others as reflected in a lack of motivation, low self-discipline and the inability to carry through one’s responsibilities.

10. POOR BEHAVIORAL CONTROLS:  expressions of irritability, annoyance, impatience, threats, aggression and verbal abuse; inadequate control of anger and temper; acting hastily.
This has long been characteristic of my father.  And unfortunately, having such a poor model of behavior, I see I have had my own challenges with behavioral controls.


11. PROMISCUOUS SEXUAL BEHAVIOR: a variety of brief, superficial relations, numerous affairs, and an indiscriminate selection of sexual partners; the maintenance of numerous, multiple relationships at the same time; a history of attempts to sexually coerce others into sexual activity (rape) or taking great pride at discussing sexual exploits and conquests.

12. EARLY BEHAVIOR PROBLEMS: a variety of behaviors prior to age 13, including lying, theft, cheating, vandalism, bullying, sexual activity, fire-setting, glue-sniffing, alcohol use and running away from home.
I cannot easily speak to this potential indicator of deeper psychological problems as I was obviously not alive when my father was an adolescent.  To better determine what my father's own adolescence was like I would have to reconstruct it through interviews with his siblings, school and medical records and so on.  Unfortunately I do not trust the interpretations and objectivity of his own siblings as I have long felt they have all been something like accomplices to his own bad behavior.  It has long been my impression that there is an unspoken agreement among my father and his still living siblings to 'Avoid, Deflect and Obfuscate at All Costs'.


13. LACK OF REALISTIC, LONG-TERM GOALS: an inability or persistent failure to develop and execute long-term plans and goals; a nomadic existence, aimless, lacking direction in life.


14. IMPULSIVITY: the occurrence of behaviors that are unpremeditated and lack reflection or planning; inability to resist temptation, frustrations and momentary urges; a lack of deliberation without considering the consequences; foolhardy, rash, unpredictable, erratic and reckless.


15. IRRESPONSIBILITY: repeated failure to fulfill or honor obligations and commitments; such as not paying bills, defaulting on loans, performing sloppy work, being absent or late to work, failing to honor contractual agreements.


16. FAILURE TO ACCEPT RESPONSIBILITY FOR OWN ACTIONS: a failure to accept responsibility for one’s actions reflected in low conscientiousness, an absence of dutifulness, antagonistic manipulation, denial of responsibility, and an effort to manipulate others through this denial.
As I have noted above my father has apologized for his past behavior that has proven harmful to himself and others.  And yet then he goes on to act in some of the very same ways.  If he truly appreciated and felt remorse for the significant harm he has caused to his own life and the lives of those closest to him would he not truly change his behavior.  Change can be difficult but continuing to be irresponsible and living in a world of denial almost never (in my experience) produces a positive outcome.


17. MANY SHORT-TERM RELATIONSHIPS: a lack of commitment to a long-term relationship reflected in inconsistent, undependable, and unreliable commitments in life, including in marital and familial bonds.

18. JUVENILE DELINQUENCY: behavior problems between the ages of 13-18; mostly behaviors that are crimes or clearly involve aspects of antagonism, exploitation, aggression, manipulation, or a callous, ruthless tough-mindedness.

19. REVOCATION OF CONDITION RELEASE: a revocation of probation or other conditional release due to technical violations, such as carelessness, low deliberation or failing to appear.

20. CRIMINAL VERSATILITY: a diversity of types of criminal offenses, regardless if the person has been arrested or convicted for them; taking great pride at getting away with crimes or wrongdoings.



Meeting five of twenty criteria is not exactly impressive enough to convince me that the answer to my haunting question is a Yes.  But the fact that I can confidently state I have seen the five I have highlighted is a major cause for concern.

I do not see any therapeutic value in posing questions that I may never be able to decisively answer.  And yet that doesn't detract from the fact that I must find some way to deal with this haunting question. And unfortunately the best way to deal with it may be to never see my father again as I do not believe he will ever sufficiently cooperate to allow me to find clarity in my understanding of who he truly is.








Saturday, March 22, 2014

Anxiety *IS* Pain

Saturday, March 22, 2014


I am actually beginning this post on Friday evening.  I'm thankfully feeling much more relaxed than I was earlier when I first arrived at the YMCA.  Sitting on a bus with a bunch of people constantly swearing and cackling has a way of rubbing my nerves raw.  I need to find a more high technology way of coping with people who have potty mouth on the bus than what I currently do...which is plug earplugs into my ears.  I need something delightful like soothing music to soften the edge on my nerves.

I went swimming this evening (among other activities).  My enthusiasm was somewhat deflated when I discovered the punching bag I enjoy using here at the gym was itself deflated (or replaced?).  Luckily the pool still exists.  I swam sixteen laps and managed to calm myself down a bit.  I can easily understand why I am feeling so anxious.  I am working a temporary job and feeling extremely skeptical that it is going to lead me anywhere all that meaningful.  I've done contract work many times before in my life and it has not typically led me into a permanent position that I enjoyed working.  So naturally, in my most pessimistic moments, I hear the mental chatter of immense skepticism circling about in my brain.

Coming down from a spike in my anxiety I had renewed insight into the nature of anxiety.  In one sense anxiety is indeed pain.  When we are anxious we are not comfortable.  Anxiety is a code word for discomfort, dread, edginess, nervousness, apprehension and the like.  Anxiety simply doesn't feel good.  And if it doesn't feel good then it must be either a neutral or unpleasant feeling.  The longer I live without being immersed in a sea of unconscious anxiety the more I realize just how draining it was for me to be constantly anxious as a child.  Experiencing such an amazing healing of my eyesight just convinces me that some of the stress I experienced literally affected that portion of my brain that rules eyesight.  I haven't done much research on this correlation which I believe exists but I do want to do so in the near future.  In the relatively near future I plan to write an entry that will focus on the history of EMDR.  It's such an amazing technique.  I don't think I will ever stop raving about it.

I also realized that my anxiety level has been a bit higher than usual due to my concern about my therapist and his sleeping disorder.  I did not know of this aspect of his life when I first began working with him last summer.  At least I am able to clearly recognize what the basis of my anxiety is.  When I feel I am not being given good quality attention by someone it reminds me of how I felt much of the time growing up.  I felt invisible so much of the time.

...

I just emerged from my visit with Fr. John Bauer of the Basilica of St. Mary.  I met with him specifically to try to put the old haunting thoughts to rest regarding how 'good Catholics' like members of my paternal family of origin could not clearly identify the pathological behavior of my father.  It's a question that has haunted me much of my life.  I need to put this ghost to rest...and I think I am on my way to doing so.  I'll write more about this topic soon.



Friday, March 21, 2014

Consistently Imagining the Best Possible Outcome


Friday, March 21, 2014


I don’t know that I can say recovering from PTSD is easy…even under the best possible circumstances.  You can have the best care team you can possibly assemble and taking the journey I am on will still not feel like a cakewalk.  Am I improving?  I believe I am.  Is it happening as fast as I would like it to? No.  Is this a bad thing?  I cannot tell.  Time has its wisdom and there are times when it is best to leave well enough alone and let time do what it does.  Does time heal everything?  I am not so sure about that either.  Perhaps it does…when the right circumstances are present.

So it’s Friday morning and I am sitting on the bus on my way to a job I will have no longer than next Friday.  I am trying to rouse some amount of enthusiasm for the fact that I am fortunate to have a job.  I’ll probably feel more enthusiastic in about thirty minutes when I arrive on site and am more awake than I am now.  The hues of Minnesota in late March don’t exactly feed the eyes in any dramatic way.  Grays (the sky), whites (the receding snow cover) and browns (the still barren trees and detritus from last year’s cycle of life) make for a fairly monochromatic palette to choose from.  But at least the snowing is beginning to disappear….slowly.

I have a few activities scheduled in the coming days to look forward to.  I’ll be consulting with my therapist later today about my efforts to establish a new professional direction.  I am hoping to also soon speak with my other social worker.  Tomorrow I will be speaking with Fr. John Bauer of the Basilica of St. Mary once again.  I have one primary question I want to ask him: Does Catholic Church doctrine include anything about an ethical obligation to act?  I’ll share more tomorrow about what I mean by that question.  I have been invited to some fun events this weekend as well so at least I will have some opportunities to blow off some steam.  I certainly need it.  I feel like one of the proles from George Orwell’s dystopian future 1984 in which life is simply one continuous dreary existence punctuated by the petty fights of other human beings over matters not truly worth fighting over.  I don’t feel like that all the time of course but feeling this way at all is more than enough.

One healthy way I could approach each and every day is to use my imagination to consistently imagine the best possible outcome.  Rather than expecting or fearing the worst it is a much healthier practice to imagine what the best possible outcome can be in any situation and hold my attention focused on that rather than on the worst possible scenarios.

For those of you who have read my blog previously and enjoy following it I will offer you the following golden nugget as an offering for having survived to another Friday as well.  If you truly want to tap into the power of your imagination take up reading the writings of Neville.  Just google Neville and creative visualization and you should find the man I am referencing.  I was introduced to him years ago when I lived in San Francisco.  I came across his writings while a student of the Lifeforce Education Corporation series of trainings.  Lifeforce was created by Matt Garrigan.  Google him as well to find some interesting information.

Now that I have done my public service for the day it’s time to sign off and work.
Happy Friday!



Thursday, March 20, 2014

Spring Has (Technically) Arrived!

Thursday, March 20, 2014


I am excited to be able to say that Spring has technically arrived.  I am also excited to say that the likelihood of the temperature dropping below 0F is now quite small.  But I cannot say that about the threshold of 32F.  No, for that marker we have another month or so to go before we are not too likely to see freezing weather again.  Here in Minnesota Spring seems to come in gradual, incremental steps.
Gentle transitions can certainly be preferable.

So what is new in my life lately?  Well I am still working.  And I am trying to maintain a positive attitude despite the fact that it doesn't seem like my current position is really going to get me anywhere very fast.  I've become quite skeptical of the value of temporary employment considering I have done so much of it in my earlier professional history.  But maybe this time will be different.  That is what I tell myself to keep myself seeing my future in the most positive way possible.

While on the bus on the way to work this morning I crafted a statement in which I request a reduction in my student loan debt by virtue of the fact that I was living with a health condition that was not successfully (in other words fully) treated despite all my past efforts to do so.  EMDR and the shamanic journey work I did last November made all the difference.  I feel very much reborn now.

The content of my statement appears below.  I include it here simply for the purpose of inspiring any others who might feel overwhelmed by their own experience of PTSD.  It is possible to recover.  It is possible to create a brand new life for yourself.  I am living proof that it is possible.  Courage, determination and tenacity are vital.

Have a great Friday!

And here is my statement...(this is not the finalized version I will send out)




I am writing to request the opportunity to negotiate the current balance on my student loan debt to a lower amount by virtue of the fact that I was affected by an unsuccessfully treated health condition for over thirty years.  It was not until last year (June, 2013 to be specific) that I entered treatment that ultimately led to successful treatment of my condition.  I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder on June 25, 2013.  I currently see Jeffry Jeanetta-Wark, LCSW for weekly sessions of psychotherapy.  The specific therapy he utilized in my treatment that I had never experienced before is called Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR) therapy.  Undergoing this treatment changed the quality of my life in a way I could never have imagined it would.

My Post Traumatic Stress Disorder developed in response to a series of traumas that first occurred very early in my personal development.  My mother developed schizophrenia as a young woman.  Her illness eventually precipitated the end of her marriage to my father.  She eventually moved back to Germany (she grew up in Germany and is a native citizen of that country) and has remained there to this day.  Though her own health did improve in response to therapeutic intervention she nonetheless has not lived a fully independent life.  She lives in a facility that provides care for those with mental illness who are capable of living semi-independent lives.

My mother’s breakdown into schizophrenia occurred when I was a very small child.  Being an unwitting witness to her deterioration laid the foundation for the anxiety disorder which I would go on to carry for over three decades.  My father later remarried.  Though his second marriage began nicely enough it ended when my stepmother made multiple attempts to murder my father.  My stepmother was never prosecuted for the crime due to corruption in the Carrollton, Texas Police Department.  The last attempt on my father’s life occurred in June, 1982.  My stepmother had two daughters; her daughters perpetrated physical and verbal abuse against me during the time of my father’s marriage to their mother.

Throughout the subsequent years of my life at home I carried this condition of PTSD but did not realize I was affected by it.  Despite some family counseling I attended with my father and second stepmother (my father remarried again in 1986) my condition was never successfully treated.  How can I make such a claim? As I think back on my life now all these years later I honestly cannot think of a time in which I was not feeling some level of anxiety which would be considered abnormally high for a healthy child.  I simply was not consciously aware of my anxiety.

After completing high school I went on to study atmospheric science at Texas A&M University.  I completed my Bachelor of Science degree in August, 1995.  After graduation I took a different professional path and spent the next four years of my life giving generously of my time to a variety of populations of people.  I first served as a volunteer member of the Volunteer Service Community in Woonsocket, Rhode Island from September, 1995 to June, 1996.  I thereafter entered the Jesuit order of the Roman Catholic Church where I would spend the next three years of my life.  I left the order in May, 1999 and relocated to California to pursue a new life outside of the Catholic Church.  During those three years of my life I worked with numerous often marginalized or underserved populations of people including Native Americans, inner city youth and the elderly.

Since May, 1999 I have returned to school twice.  I have two masters degrees.  I obtained my first degree from Naropa University in May, 2006.  More recently I completed a masters degree in international environmental policy at the Monterey Institute of International Studies (May, 2011).  I emerged from that degree program into the worst economy that has ever existed in my life history.  Despite my excellent skills and extensive professional experience I still have not found a job that is commensurate with my abilities.

During all the years of my adulthood until last year I was still carrying around this condition of PTSD.  Despite working with other health care providers (psychiatrists and psychologists) my condition was never successfully completely treated.  The modalities of treatment simply were not completely effective.  Then, as I referenced above, I discovered EMDR.  It changed my life in a most dramatic way.

I have given years of my life in service to others with no monetary compensation.  Organizations I have given my time to more recently include the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (Silver Spring, MD and Monterey, CA), the Wild Salmon Center (Portland, OR), the Otter Project (Monterey, CA), and the Diversity Center (Santa Cruz, CA).

The crushing weight of my student loan debt is like a millstone around my neck.  Though my therapist determined me to no longer be clinically diagnosable for PTSD as of late January, 2014 this in no way means I am done with my therapeutic treatment.  I do not know how long it will take for me to no longer meet any criteria for PTSD according to the DSM V.

Given the burden of my early life history which was completely beyond my control as well as my commitment to my professional development and career as evidenced by my extensive education and numerous internship experiences (which have unfortunately not yet led me to meaningful employment) I find it not unreasonable to request some degree of reduction in my student loan debt.  I would further cite my minimal (and I believe justified) confidence that Congress and much of the people in positions of influence in this country will actually do anything substantive to address the very deep problems plaguing our country for the last many years as yet another argument in support of my request.  I would like to believe our elected officials are committed to the concerns of all Americans, including deeply indebted former students like myself who are not exactly young people just starting out.

I am willing to provide any and all documentation of my medical and professional history in support of my request.

I appreciate your consideration of my request and look forward to hearing from you soon.

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

It's Groundhog Day! Also Known As: Repeat Ad Nauseam


Wednesday, March 19, 2014


In the movie Groundhog Day Bill Murray finds himself trapped in the small Pennsylvania town famous for its annual tradition of consulting a groundhog for insight on how the remainder of the winter will shape up.   By trapped I do not mean to say the roads are barricaded and he cannot escape the actual town.  No, the poor man is trapped in the fourth dimension.  He wakes up and relives Groundhog Day over and over again.  Sometimes I feel a bit like his character must have felt.

Today was my eighth day working in downtown St. Paul.  I am doing my very best to maintain a positive attitude.  Some days are more challenging than others.  I would rate today as a moderately difficult day to keep myself feeling positive.  Sometimes I fear I’ll always be working as a temporary employee.  But I know myself too well; I will do what is necessary to make the changes necessary to find a better life for myself.  I have overcome too many obstacles to end up where I am now…permanently.

I don’t know that a lot has been written about the psychology of being a temporary employee in America but I will make my contribution here.  I’ve heard some of the arguments in favor of temporary employees.  One major one is that it allows an employer to get to know an employee before formally taking the person on as one of its own.  This seems perfectly reasonable in theory.  Companies can save on administrative and other costs by first ‘trying out’ an employee before making a real commitment.  But there is a dark side to such work…and it seems to me that America is moving ever more to the dark side of this equation.

I find it very difficult to get emotionally involved in any real way when working as a contract worker.  Unless I really enjoy the assignment I am doing I find it difficult to do even simple things such as smile and carry on light-hearted conversation.  Why?  Because in a very short time I will be done with my project and I will, in all likelihood, never see the people again whom I have passed in the hallways.  Why would I want to spend too much energy pleasing people or ‘lightening up’ a room if I will never see those people again?  That might sound like a gloomy perspective but I find this to be a very valid criticism.

The United States itself seems to have become a temporary nation in some respects.  People get into professions for the wrong reasons.  I think many of our elected officials in Congress are an excellent example.  If you spend a majority of your time focused on campaigning to get reelected rather than actually serving the needs of your electorate then I think something is seriously amiss.  The recent unfortunate debacle regarding gun legislation in this country is a great example of this issue.  Despite approximately ninety percent of the American populace being in favor of background checks for those who wish to purchase a gun related legislation in Congress met a death as gruesome as the children from Connecticut who died premature deaths in Newtown.  I simply cannot fathom people who run for an office in which they will serve as a public servant and then, ironically, seek primarily to look first and foremost after their own very privatized wants and needs.  It seems that the days of government service being a noble profession are long gone.

I told my therapist yesterday evening that I believe I might need to stay on anti-depressant medication so long as I am unfulfilled in my professional ambitions.  I am capable of doing so much more than completing a spreadsheet.  I could have done the assignment I am doing now when I was seventeen years old.  If I sense I am making no genuine forward progress in my life I can’t imagine how I will not feel some amount of looming discouragement.  My earlier life history was full of enough discouragement, loss and suffering.  I want to create a new future for myself.  And I believe that I can.

I’m going to stay faithful to all my efforts to improve my life…and I hope one day they will pay off.

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

I Want Time to Stand Still...Except That I Want Winter To Be Over

Tuesday, March 18, 2014



(Yes, I am harping about winter because it is still hanging around.  Yes, it's not unreasonable (from the point of climatology) to expect snow in March here in Minneapolis.  But that doesn't mean we all can't pine for warmer days.  This winter has been a real beast.  Okay, end of whining.)


Like Superman in the movie of the same name, I want to alter the flow of time for my own purposes.  I admit it.  In the first of the Superman movie franchise, Superman is devastated when his beloved Lois Lane dies in an earthquake he was unable to prevent because he was busy saving New Jersey.  Yes, truth truly is stranger than fiction.  Despite his immense power Superman arrives on the scene too late to prevent Lois from being buried alive in a landslide of rock that engulfs her car and ultimately suffocates her.  So what does he do?  Why the most irrational and most improbable and yet most believable thing you can imagine!  He saves her by turning back time by making the planet spin backwards.

More than once I have wished I had the power to alter my past.  And then other moments I have thought that altering even one small detail might throw a huge wrench into my development.  There are plenty of movies that toy with that ancient question of 'What if I had...' or 'If only...'  One of my favorites is the movie Frequency.  Check it out if you have not seen it.  Of all the movies I have seen Frequency perhaps does the best job of exploring the unintended consequences that can arise if somehow we could alter the past.  Indeed, changing the past might seem like a great idea...until we realize just how complex the world is and how the smallest of changes at one moment can ripple out and unleash much larger changes we had not even imagined were possible.

As for me I am wishing I could get a lot of time back.  Yes, I'd like to have the quality of perception I have now throughout the last thirty or so years.  Waking up at the age of forty is a strange experience.  Some might consider such an age too late to make any fundamental, long lasting changes to your life.  And I suspect many of those such people are younger than forty!  Then there are those more advanced in years than I who only wish they could be forty again.  Forty is not too late.  That is what I tell myself.  And I will ignore all naysayers who would argue against my determination.  I want my life back...and I am working like a fiend to realize my full potential in the time that I still have to live.

It's been a lonely journey thus far, but I am grateful that I have assembled a skillful team of people to help me through this time of renewal and transformation.  I don't meet too many people very much like me.  Honestly, how many people do you personally know who are in treatment for PTSD which likely developed over three decades ago?  I don't know that I know many people with such a similar background.

My visit with my primary care physician went well.  Despite the fact that I feel as if my recovery has slowed down significantly in the last month I do feel as if I am still moving forward...somewhat.  The reward of patience is more patience.  The reward of my ongoing discipline is my gratitude for all the gifts that have come to me in these past nine months...and all that will come in the near and longer term future.

I still believe it is possible to meet zero criteria for PTSD by the end of 2014.






Monday, March 17, 2014

Taking A Deep Breath

Monday March 17, 2014


I find myself struggling with feelings of deep sadness and immense grief.  Yes, I have spoken of these issues before.  Perhaps you, my dear reader, will grow weary of reading of me expressing such heaviness...yet again.  Afterall, Spring is coming, right?  I'm alive, right?  I'm still relatively young and in decently good health, right?  Yes, these things are all true.  And yet the heaviness overwhelms me at times.  I had to schedule in a bit of time after dinner so I could go weep in the bathroom at the Aliveness Project.  Compartmentalizing feelings can be so destructive.  And now, as I stand on the other end looking back, I see just how harmful it can be.  Now, as I am unlearning so much of the harmful conditioning from my earliest years of life, I appreciate time and time and time again just how much I was impacted by that time in my life.

I am grieving the loss of a family of origin who simply cannot be fully present to the depths of the feelings I have carried.

I am grieving as I realize I was seeing the world in a distorted way...both literally and metaphorically.  I am grieving the immense length of time that passed in which I lived in this limited way.

Lately I want to hide.  And in a very fitting way I came across something a friend posted on Facebook today.  Read on:


HIDING

is a way of staying alive. Hiding is a way of holding ourselves until we are ready to come into the light. Hiding is one of the brilliant and virtuoso practices of almost every part of the natural world: the protective quiet of an icy northern landscape, the held bud of a future summer rose, the snow bound internal pulse of the hibernating bear. Hiding is underestimated. We are hidden by life in our mother’s womb until we grow and ready ourselves for our first appearance in the lighted world; to appear too early in that world is to find ourselves with the immediate necessity for outside intensive care.

Hiding done properly is the internal faithful promise for a proper future emergence, as embryos, as children or even as emerging adults in retreat from the names that have caught us and imprisoned us, often in ways where we have been too easily seen and too easily named. We live in a time of the dissected soul, the immediate disclosure; our thoughts, imaginings and longings exposed to the light too much, too early and too often, our best qualities squeezed too soon into a world already awash with ideas that oppress our sense of self and our sense of others. What is real is almost always to begin with, hidden, and does not want to be understood by the part of our mind that mistakenly thinks it knows what is happening. What is precious inside us does not care to be known by the mind in ways that diminish its presence.

Hiding is an act of freedom from the misunderstanding of others, especially in the enclosing world of oppressive secret government and private entities, attempting to name us, to anticipate us, to leave us with no place to hide and grow in ways unmanaged by a creeping necessity for absolute naming, absolute tracking and absolute control. Hiding is a bid for independence, from others, from mistaken ideas we have about our selves, from an oppressive and mistaken wish to keep us completely safe, completely ministered to, and therefore completely managed. Hiding is creative, necessary and beautifully subversive of outside interference and control. Hiding leaves life to itself, to become more of itself. Hiding is the radical independence necessary for our emergence into the light of a proper human future. 


(This wisdom is taken from David Whyte: March 2014: Excerpted from ‘HIDING’ From the upcoming book of essays CONSOLATIONS: The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words.)



Until last year it was as if the full power of my eyesight was hidden away.  Now, each and every day I live, I enjoy the gift of amazingly clear vision.  It's almost as if I am living out, yet again, the first days after I had laser correction surgery on my eyes four years ago.  As my own eyes have opened with enhanced ability to perceive the world around me the world seems to have arced towards me and revealed itself to me with such an amazing panoply of textures and colors.  It hasn't been very long since this phenomenon of clarified vision became something I grew to expect would become a regular aspect of my daily life.  I cannot pinpoint the exact day I came to feel this 'new' vision would be with me for the long haul.  And yes, one day I will die, and perhaps my vision will fade from its current glory long before I die, but for now I would prefer to savor this incredible change in my eyesight that makes each and every day I live such an amazingly vivid experience.

I hid for so much of my life because it was an adaptive strategy to cope with the nightmarish circumstances I had no ability to escape.

I am done hiding.  I am now emerging.  But I am still learning.  I am still learning who I fundamentally am.  Wasn't I supposed to be done with this already?

<Last comment was dripping with sarcasm>


Saturday, March 15, 2014

The Ides of March


Saturday, March 15, 2014


How funny that I should write the following on what is also known as the Ides of March.  As I have noted in recent postings I have been feeling a bit overwhelmed and disheartened lately.  I’m not sure what to make of it.  Maybe this is the nine month lull some people going through recovery typically experience.  I am not sure.  As Dr. Colorado once taught me the value of making offerings to and honoring my ancestors, both those who have passed as well as those who still live, I write the following to request help at this tender time in my life.


Dear Any Kind Ancestor Who Will Listen,


I am writing to ask for your help.  My life is nothing like I want it to be…and I am very weary of that.  Each day I wake up I try to move in the direction of something better…in the direction of a brighter future that will fulfill the full range of my needs.  And though my life does seem to be changing for the better I find myself remaining skeptical.  I remain skeptical that all my efforts will bear the fruit that I want them to.  My efforts are producing some sort of results…but are those results what I want?  That is one of many questions on my mind.  What good is it to till the soil and plant the seeds if what ultimately grows means nothing to you?  And that is not a rhetorical question…at least not entirely.

One of the most influential people I met on my life journey thus far was Dr. Pamela Colorado.  It has been eleven years since I first encountered her.  I met her in California.  And the path I walked with her direction forever changed the course of my life.  I had the amazing opportunity to travel to Hawaii and sit in a circle with other students and do some most amazing things.  I was –reintroduced to the art of storytelling…and the healing potential this ancient art can bring to us supposed modern human beings.

I also studied my dreams.  I learned to value them as a means of gaining insight not just into my own psyche but the world at large.  Dreams can be powerful signposts on our life journeys if we will just pay attention to them.  In the years that have passed since I first met Dr. Colorado I have attempted to be more mindful regarding my dreams.  Sometimes I have succeeded in paying attention to them.  There have been other stretches in which I have not been so mindful.  Like carving a beautiful figure out of marble I now need to carve a new dream for my future life.  I have been putting the pieces together so far…and gradually a new image is appearing.  And yet I still cannot see that clearly what the image is that is forming.

Among the many improvements I have experienced in my health since I returned to therapy last June is the improvement in my eyesight.  At first I was not sure what was happening to me.  I felt a certain amount of fear as I was not sure if I was improving or getting worse.  The technique I was introduced to that has so radically changed my life is called Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing Therapy.  Since first undergoing this therapy last summer I noticed my actual vision improved.  My capacity to distinguish the most subtle interplay of light and shadow as well as hues of color improved markedly.  There were some days when it felt as if I had superhero powered vision.  Eventually I learned not to fear what was unfolding but rather to interpret it as one sign among many that I was becoming a new, ‘upgraded’ version of the ‘old’ me.  My full scale metamorphosis was underway.

It’s been nearly nine months now since I returned to therapy.  I feel myself to be such a different person now.  And yet I still feel achingly far removed from the person I want to be and the life I want to have.  My journey these last nine months has been something equivalent to being released from a cage I didn’t even realize I was in.  It’s liberating, bizarre, scary and wondrous all at the same time.  Some days I find myself enjoying what is unfolding and other days I simply want to hide away and not be present and witness the transformation.

I’ve planted so many ‘seeds of change’ in my life by remaining dedicated to the deep changes I have made in my daily life.  And there are many obvious changes that have already occurred.  And yet I look around at the ‘outer’ world and see that much of my life is still not what I want it to be.  And I ask myself why it is that certain deeper patterns in my life apparently continue to persist.  What will it take to remove them so that they never reoccur.  This is another question I have on my mind…and one I would like an answer to.

Nearly three years ago, in May, 2011, I made a journey to the Hawaiian Island of Moloka’I. I undertook this journey to attend a week long breathwork retreat under the facilitation of Christian de la Huerta.  Christian is a breathwork practitioner and great friend whom I also once met in California several years ago.  I had not been to Hawaii in a few years when I made this trip.  My love for Hawaii was rekindled during that weeklong getaway.  But then something happened when I went to Maui after the retreat was over.

I stayed in the condo of a friend in Kihei while visiting Maui over the course of a weekend.  On that Sunday morning I opened up the newspaper…the Maui Times.  And there on the front page was a story about the Nazi legacy that still affects so many people today.  It seemed more than a bit surreal that I would pull open a newspaper on an island literally on the other side of the planet from Germany and find such a story on the one and only Sunday that I was visiting Maui.  It seemed especially well timed.  Indeed, it seemed to me my blood ancestors were being a bit ‘trickster-ish’ and sending me an invitation to visit Germany.  And I did just that…two years later…and now nine months ago.  These last nine months have felt like muddling through a vast morass.  I need some help!  And I will take help from whatever direction it is offered. 

And so I ask you, any ancestor who will listen, the following:

Guard and protect me on my path.
Help me to move forward in the direction of the glorious life I can have.
Teach me to remain patient even when the changes I am hoping to make do not seem to be manifesting in my present day reality.
Help me to have humility and trust that all is assisting me in moving in the direction of my highest good.
Help me also to have patience with myself and fully know that the life I am seeking to create will indeed come to me.
Help me to pay attention to my dreams and be open to their wisdom.
Guide me in the direction of my true vocational calling.
Help me to walk into and through whatever fears I may have.
Help me to accentuate the positive in my life…this is what I should focus upon.
Focusing on what is lacking will only bring more of it.  Let me focus on the abundance of the good I already have in my life.
Help me to create a life in which my work utilizes the full range of my skills and abilities.
Let me go to sleep each night knowing that I have done the best I could for both myself and those creatures, human and otherwise, who are a part of my life.
And help me to remember gratitude for all that I already have and enjoy.

I believe my ancestors have helped me before.  And I believe they can help me in the future.  Please give me aid during this time of deep transformation.



In addition to the prayer I made above, I wrote the following to the Ombudsman of Hennepin County today.  I need all the help I can get!


Saturday, March 15, 2014


Hello Ms. Ayres,

I am reaching out to you at the recommendation of Anne Maturi-Doan.  Anne is a social worker who practices in Hennepin County.  I was first referred to her by my primary care doctor, Dr. Jeff Myers, of the Doctors Clinic Uptown in Minneapolis.

I have a rather complex situation and feel I may be in need of greater resources above and beyond what I already have in place.  I will do my best to be concise as I assume you probably receive a large volume of communications from individuals within your jurisdiction of Hennepin County.  I'll speak somewhat like a doctor would presenting a patient to a superior.

I am a 40 year old gay white male.  I am currently technically homeless and have been unjustly evicted twice since late November of last year.  I will spare the details of these incidents unless you request to know them.  In June of last year I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  The diagnosis came as something of a shock because I have attempted to be proactive and healthy throughout my life.  I have also gone to therapy previously and thought I had successfully addressed the impact that numerous traumatic experiences in my childhood had had on my development and current health.  I was thus surprised when I was diagnosed last summer.  I have since been working with a therapist on regular basis who operates a private practice in Roseville.

Here is another aspect of my complicated situation.  I completed a graduate degree in international environmental policy three years ago.  I obtained my degree at the Monterey Institute of International Studies.  In the three years since I graduated I have attempted to find a job commensurate with my skill set that will allow me to create a sustainable financial and professional life for myself.  Despite three years of looking for meaningful work in a number of markets (the state of California; Portland, OR; Washington, DC and now the Twin Cities area) I still find myself no better off in regards to my professional life than I was three whole years ago.  This experience alone has been extremely disheartening to deal with.  And the financial pressure I have borne in the last several years has made truly and completely recovering from PTSD a more challenging process.

I do not have substantial connections to my paternal family of origin here in Minnesota.  And my early life trauma is due in part to the failure of my father's extended family to pay greater attention to what was happening to me in my own home.  My childhood has been marked by numerous difficult experiences including my birthmother becoming ill with schizophrenia, nearly losing my father to gun violence perpetrated by my first stepmother, police corruption and homophobia that was quite common in Texas twenty to thirty years ago.  My stepmother was never prosecuted for attempted murder.  You can well understand, I now imagine, why I would have developed Post Traumatic Stress Disorder early in life.

The field of medicine as practiced in this country, though of great support to me at different times in my life, was not perfect either (nor did I expect it to be perfect).  I became much more proactive about my mental health when I received what I now believe is a 'more' correct diagnosis than what I had been given when I pursued mental health care related treatment earlier in my life.



So now I come to the point of asking for your specific help:

Given my life history in which a number of institutions (my family of origin, law enforcement, the field of medicine) failed to ensure the fulfillment of my most basic human needs (or at least could have done a better job than they ultimately did) AND given the fact that I was never able to obtain monetary damages for the harm the various traumas I experienced caused to my own early development and health as an adult AND given the fact that I have done everything in my power to rise above the circumstances I grew up in (as evidenced by 1) my willingness to go to therapy with little if any encouragement from my family and 2) my commitment to my own professional development that led me to obtain two graduate degrees as well as offer many hours of my time in volunteer service to a number of organizations in both the private and public sectors) I want to explore if there is some means by which I can reduce the tremendous burden of student loan debt I now am carrying by virtue of the burden of my diagnosed condition of PTSD which developed in direct response to the actions of others which were beyond my control or knowledge.  

I have dedicated the last nine months of my life to my own journey of healing.  I have always tried to be a generous man as I believe in the fundamental dignity of human beings and their inherent worth...regardless of who they are, where they come from, what level of education they have, what they do for a living, etc.  Shortly after my unexpected diagnosis I began writing a daily blog in which I recount my journey of healing.  I created this blog as a public forum and also as an inspiration to others dealing with burdens they never should have to deal with alone.  If you would like to read from my blog it can be found at this web address: bcwellkamp.blogspot.com.



I am currently considering a job retraining program for dislocated workers I first learned about through the south Minneapolis Workforce Center.  I want to create a different career for myself.  I changed my focus after the events of last year fundamentally changed my outlook on my life and what I find worthwhile.

I attend local services of Metropolitan Community Church located at 3100 Park Avenue, Minneapolis.

This coming Friday I will speak with a counselor at Lutheran Financial Services regarding my student loan debt and what options might exist for me.

As I mentioned above, I maintain a daily blog documenting my experience of recovery.  The experience of writing is a very therapeutic one for me.



I appreciate your willingness to take the time to read my correspondence.  I realize the information I have provided might be a bit overwhelming.  If you can provide me any referrals or resources that might help me move beyond my current very difficult circumstances I would greatly appreciate your assistance.

I am attaching a copy of my resume so you can gain a better understanding of my professional background.  I welcome any questions you may have.  Please contact me as soon as you are able.