“Champions are willing to do anything necessary to be a champion. You’re a champion; do what it’s going to take to make you better.”
I’ve been called a lot of things in my life…I mean, A LOT…but I can’t recall a time I’ve ever been called a champion. Ok, maybe once or twice, but it was definitely laced in heavy sarcasm. You know, like when you screw up and some jerk calls out in a mocking tone, “Way to go champ,” followed by snickers and laughter. But that changed this week.
If you’ve been following me on Instagram or Facebook lately(and if not, fix that now!), you’ve probably seen I’m going through a bit of a rough patch again. Then again; when aren’t I going through a rough patch?
We’ve become quite the pair over the years; you and I. It almost feels like I’ve spent more time with you than anyone else in my life. I’ve visited you again and again. Even when I didn’t want to, I did it; kicking and screaming a lot of that time.
I have to be honest – I don’t like you. No…that’s probably a bit too harsh, but I’m sure that’s the vibe I give off. I feel, saying I don’t enjoy our visits, is probably more appropriate. Because why should I?
The words slammed into me like a baseball bat. Shocked and shaken to my core, I quietly sat; not daring to say another word. I could feel the words still floating around the room – watching me, waiting for me to say something else so it could remind me again. A voice, deep inside spurred me – poking me, “Come on man! Fight back! Do it for love…do it for you!!” But I remained silent.
I’ve always found it odd how there are times I can’t recall what I did in a single day, yet, I can remember back to a single moment in my past; a moment like this, and recall it in such vivid detail. Maybe it’s because of the impact it had on me, or that I still carry around the invisible scar these words left behind. Or, maybe I’m making too much of it, and it’s just how our brains work. But I will always remember this day – this conversation, for the rest of my life.
I needed you, and you weren’t there for me. I need you…YOU!! I felt all alone. I felt abandoned; when I needed you most.
Have you ever felt this kind of alone before? Alone because, no matter if it’s true or not, you feel those closest to you have abandoned you; left you in your darkest hour. Left you reaching out into the darkness of depression and anxiety; only to find no comfort, no matter how hard you reach. No one to hold you; no one to comfort you. No one to reassure you and tell you things will be ok; that the claims depression make against you are lies. No one to tell you, you are loved…or that you’re even worthy of that love?
I know this feeling all too well…and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. Have you ever…been the person that abandoned someone in need? Refusing to set yourself aside; if for nothing else than because you’re their person? Or the fact that YOU are the one person in this world that can actually make a difference; that can actually help in this situation, but instead, you’re too focused on you.
I know how that feels too…and I will have to live with that; hearing the words that started this post, in my head, for the rest of my life. Six years ago, shortly after my son was born, my wife started showing signs of postpartum depression. I recognized them right away, as depression and I go way back.
The incidents surrounding Harvey Weinstein are sad and disgusting. My heart breaks for the women who are speaking out, and even more for the many I know are still not. Sexual assault and intimidation, sadly, are nothing new to women; within Hollywood and all the way to the suburbs.
But what has come out, as almost a sub topic, is the fact that this is happening to men as well. While speaking about the women coming forward about Weinstein, actor Terry Crews (Brooklyn 99) and James Van Der Beek (Dawson’s Creek and Varsity Blues) both came forward and revealed while the abusive treatment of women is disgusting and rampant, the abuse was not only directed towards female actors. Both actors revealed they too had been groped by older men with influence and power in the entertainment field.
Could you imagine telling your father, or me, telling my father, “I’m struggling. I have postpartum depression.” They would be like, “Suck it up buttercup!” ~ Kirk and Callahan Show (5/22/17, WEEI Boston)
These were just some of the ridiculously moronic words spewed on the May 22, 2017 Kirk and Callahan morning show on WEEI (Boston). I could probably write an entire novel on the absurd, not to mention machismo fueled ignorant behavior the Kirk and Callahan show has been known for over the years. Instead, I’ll sum it up with a quote from ESPN host Paul Finebaum when he said that Kirk and Callahan, “were toxic pieces of waste, who have never accomplished anything in their life.”
Where was I? Ahhh, yes…
Today is the last day of May 2017. The last day of Mental Health Awareness Month. So, I feel it’s only fitting that we talk about the last thing it feels like anyone wants to talk about when it comes to mental health – men. Read more →
Through heavy sobs, the words came spilling out of his mouth. Eyes, red and bloodshot from crying so intensely; even causing him to do that heavy, shortened breath stutter, making his head shake with every gasp for his next breath.
I knew this day would come…and admittedly, selfishly, avoiding this day is one of the reasons I once said I never wanted to have kids.
The day he finally put it all together; solving the Rubik’s cube of emotions he lives with; the reason he had always felt different from other kids; from other boys. The day he realized why, when it seemed like all the other kids were jumping into adolescence with both feet, without regard, all the while he only knew hesitation; questioning every choice to death. The day he realized that when he found his “thing” that made him feel truly alive for the first time, only to have his first reaction to put it away; hide it from others, convinced people would laugh at him if he told them about it. The day he realized that voice in his head – the one telling him he wasn’t good enough to make it, or not smart enough to try, or that person isn’t going to like him back, so don’t bother asking them out; he would realize where that voice originated from, and how it got in his head. The day he realized, all those roads filled with fear and doubt, and the many still left to travel; they all lead back to me, his father, and the gift; the curse, I passed down to him at birth.
I don’t actually how to start this story. How do I tell the story of someone I admire, but also a person I know little to nothing about them? Will I be able to write that story? Will people even believe me, or with they think I’m just making it up or trying to fill space? Will anyone even read that story?
Sure, those are all things I could, and maybe still do, worry about, but the real question I have is, will I be able to do this story justice with what little I factually know? Will I be able to tell this person’s story to the level that they deserve? Will they even read it? I guess there’s only one way to find out. Read more →