Misguided Nostalgia

"It's never safe to be nostalgic about something until you're absolutely certain there's no chance of it coming back." ~ Bill Vaughn (American Columnist & Author).

Once in an extremely blue moon I miss the irresponsibility of my youth. This is a seldom occurrence that only happens after a night out drinking (which happens may be once a year) when I have experienced the loud tribal beats of an excellent DJ that have reverberated through my chest. I don't know that the average person experiences music the way I do; may be everyone does, I have no idea. I do know that the experiences I had in my young 20's, which included a lot of pill popping and electronic beats, changed my experience with music drastically and, apparently, forever. 

In the year 2000, the electronic music scene in Halifax exploded; perhaps it happened prior to then, but it happened to me and everyone I associated with during that particular year. It was the birth of a new scene that lead to the death of more than a few young people who danced a little too hard with a variety of chemicals coursing through their young bodies. We were ignorant and immature; therefore, people dropping dead had very little impact on our behavior. Everyone thought they "had it under control" regardless of the fact that none of us did, which was heavily evidenced by the obvious lack of any sort of normal human functioning. Little to no sleep, food, and profoundly entrenched in chaos, it was an experience to remember but never to be replayed or revisited. 

I clearly remember dancing to anything and everything....even sounds coming from a dishwasher or laundry machine could catch my otherwise depleted attention span. Music appeared in everything. Don't get me wrong, this was heavily influenced by drugs and a lack of connection to reality, but, it seemed fun at the time. The aftermath of these experiences, when everything was said and done, were anything but fun and I know of many people today that never quite fully recovered. They are still talking in riddles or trying to recapture what was then, which wasn't even real at the time it was happening. 

I don't miss dancing to dishwashers, or the drugs, or the scene, or the people. I just miss, once in an extremely blue moon, the youthfulness of total and absolute abandon. So today, as my lazy 34 year old ass lays around doing nothing, I find my thoughts drifting towards me standing in a field with the sun coming up, covered in dirt (for any number of totally ridiculous reasons), dancing my ass off as the DJ spins a perfect set. 

Like A Fine Wine

"There is still no cure for the common birthday." ~ John Glenn (Former NASA Astronaut)

Tomorrow is my 34th birthday and, although I've known since I could count past 50 that 34 comes after 33, I am still in shock that this is occurring. Age is only a number....I've always hated that saying. If I could pick a number to represent my age, it certainly wouldn't be steadily creeping towards the mid-30's. My sister is turning 39 next month and there is some solace in the fact that I am still years from 40. Years ago, my sister diagnosed me with what she calls Peter Pan Syndrome (PPS for short), meaning that I never wanted to grow up (an accurate diagnosis). Now she laughs at me as she happily sings, Peter Pan is gettin' old, as evidenced by my gray hair and thoughts around possibly being too "mature" to continue having a belly button piercing.

So far, I have no plans to celebrate this glorious event. In fact, I feel that a day of quiet reflection while sitting by the nearby river seems most appealing to me. As for today, the final day of my 33rd year, here are my reflections:

• I am thankful that I have evolved to a place where falling down drunk and puking doesn't have to be part of my life celebration.
• I am grateful that I find peace in quiet solitude.
• It makes me really happy that I still listen to music with base really loud and car-dance constantly.
• I look better now (physically) than I did when I was younger and frequently get asked for identification when purchasing liquor. 
• I take great pleasure from doing and experiencing the simple things, like cooking a beautiful meal or drinking a glass of wine (although my "glass" is generally a bottle). 
• I like me.

Stopping Waiting

"The test of an adventure is that when you're in the middle of it, you say to yourself, 'Oh, now I’ve got myself into an awful mess; I wish I were sitting quietly at home.' And the sign that something's wrong with you is when you sit quietly at home wishing you were out having lots of adventure." ~ Thornton Wilder (Pulitzer-Prize Winning Playwright & Novelist)

Tonight I took what I consider to be the 'big step' in the African adventure plans.....I booked the flights. Realistically, I know that the 'big step' was making the decision to go but this particular step seemed to solidify that first one. I have been looking at tickets for a few weeks now and, quite honestly, every time I found one that was reasonable, I got a little lightheaded and decided to keep on looking (which translated into, keep on waiting). Tonight, I decided that waiting was for suckers, so I booked the damn thing. I leave on August 11th and arrive the morning of August 13th, making my previously noted countdown dates a little off. I now firmly sit at 135 days. 

The "Well" in Wellbutrin is Questionable to Me

"Mankind has survived all kinds of catastrophes. It will also survive modern medicine." ~ Gerhard Kocher (Swiss Political Scientist, Economist)

Funny how we continue to do or use things well after they have proved to be unhelpful. Whether related to a relationship, a thought process, a habit, a way of functioning....it's all very similar. I was placed on Wellbutrin years ago to help manage some pretty intense feelings of depression I was experiencing. Although it - at times - helped bring the depression from completely unbearable to a constant undercurrent, it never brought it to a functional place. Perhaps that was an unrealistic expectation. Regardless, since finding alternative medicinal practices and eliminating things that were contributing significantly to my feelings of depression, I finally overcame my fear of stopping my prescribed medications. Currently, I am still having benefits from a small dose of anti-anxiety medication (which I have also reduced by half since January) but a month ago I stopped taking Wellbutrin. All I can say is, what a wild trip that was.

As someone who has kicked a variety of substances over the years, I can honestly say that getting off Wellbutrin was one of the more intense experiences I've had doing so. Wellbutrin does not come in a dose smaller than 150mg; therefore, gradually reducing the dose is somewhat complicated. After consulting with both my family doctor and naturopath, the best suggestion provided was weaning off it by taking it one day and not the next for a period of time, then moving to skipping two days in a row, to three, etc. I was told that this would produce a very bumpy withdrawal from the medication, as the withdrawal symptoms are fairly acute with this particular medication.  Cutting the medication into smaller doses was also complicated as doing so shifts the medication from being slow release to quick release and would require me to take pieces of the pill throughout the day. In knowing myself and how hard it is to remember to take my vitamins/supplements everyday, I knew this wasn't a realistic option. My decision: just stop taking the damn stuff and ride it out, which is what I did on February 26, 2012.

I'm only starting to feel "normal" now (four weeks after stopping the med) and this feeling of normalcy is greatly assisted by taking 200mg of a natural serotonin booster called 5-HTP everyday. I doubt I'd be feeling okay without it at this point. Just like when a person takes steroids and the body stops naturally producing testosterone as it gets used to the synthetic kind, my brain stopped producing it's own serotonin a long time ago, leaving me in a state of complete serotonin depletion when I stopped the Wellbutrin. The withdrawal symptoms associated to stopping this medication are very real and intensive and imaginably were so difficult for me due to the length of time I was taking it. The most prominent features of my withdrawal included serious feelings of agitation and anxiety, coupled with insomnia, excessive bouts of crying/weeping and GI problems. My belly was a very unhappy place and my appetite disappeared while dealing with the nausea and tummy cramps. One day in particular, in a seven hour period at my place of employment, I cried four times with little provocation. Then I came home and cried some more. That happened repeatedly and made me look like a lunatic to those who had no idea what I was experiencing. I was often heard saying things like, I just want to run someone over with my car or I want to bash so-and-so's head in, which is quite unlike me. I was a mess....and not the hot-kind.

I have weathered the storm, however, and the sun is starting to peak through the clouds again. I am working diligently with my naturopath and osteopath to maintain balance in my life and that is a great support. I am exercising as regularly as I can manage and I view this activity level as part of my new "medication regime" when stopping my prescribed one. I need all the help I can get. My goal is to be off all of my medication prior to departing for Africa (136 days) but if along the way it becomes clear that this is an unrealistic goal, I will be okay with that. The thought of being free from the things that keep me tethered to dependency or reliance on anything but myself is liberating. I want to know that should I ever be stranded on a desert island that does not have a pharmacy, pot plant, liquor store, or cigarette factory near by that I will not cease to exist. This is the overarching goal behind all of this forward movement and change. I have a long way to go, particularly in relation to that cigarette factory. Hot damn, I'm smoking a lot and I hate it. Once I have achieved greater stabilization, the cigarette smoking is the next thing my naturopath and I will be working on. We suspect that the use of hypnosis and acupuncture will greatly assist this process, along with homeopathy, determination and support. Stay tuned for that one.

The Little One Leaves

"You may give them your love but not your thoughts, for they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, for their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams." ~ Khalil Gibran (Lebanese - American Artist, Poet, Writer)

I have been working with a girl who I refer to as 'Little C' since August 2010, which is a long time in residential treatment. Not to say that I haven't worked with kids for longer; I had one boy for two and a half years. 18 months has been too long for Little C and she has experienced many trials and tribulations during that time. From a small Aboriginal community up north, Little C came to us as an aggressive, abused, addicted teenager. I remember the day she first came into my residence - it was her birthday. Happy birthday to her, moved hours away from her home to come live with strangers who knew jack shit about her world. She looked like a boy wearing the gangster clothes that were 3 times too big for her very small frame. Her hair hung in her face and she was without the glasses she desperately needed because, somewhere along the line, she had broken them again. She was hungover from partying for her birthday, wobbling on her feet from a profound lack of sleep, too much booze and who knows what else. And she was pissed. Her eyes betrayed her as she tried to appear calm; they told me stories of her disdain for the adults in her life who had hurt her and those who were "trying to help her change her life." She didn't want any help and she was wiser than most of us.

Little C was placed in the care of the local Children's Aid around age two or three. Removed from her home, as all of her older sisters had been, due to her mother being a homeless alcoholic who had damaged her body so much she was on dialysis three times a week. Her father, dead, stabbed in a knife fight at a local bar. Little C doesn't remember him. Her three older sisters, all with substance abuse problems, regularly used Little C as a punching bag to take out their anger, resulting in her having a broken nose, broken ribs, and a broken heart. Bounced between placements - both foster and group homes - Little C only remembers one family who had a positive impact on her life, who cared about her deeply, and who she was removed from after living with them for some years. She learned quickly that nothing was permanent and that love was a temporary feeling that couldn't be trusted. Her life consisted of garbage bags full of clothing and pictures of her family with worn edges due to being trekked between the various places she's lived. Despite all of this, Little C is fiercely loyal to her family, accepting of the fact that her destiny is directly tethered to theirs and that, likely, this will result in her drowning.  Over the past 18 months, I have witnessed her reaching out to her family back home, only to be on the receiving end of conversations with her mother that are incomprehensible to most of us. She is commonly heard saying, Mom, I know you're drunk....can you just talk to me?

Little C is by far the most affectionate youth I have ever worked with and, given that the staff cannot engage in physical affection with the children they work with, she identified me as the person to get this affection from. She fits perfectly under my arm and will wrap herself around my waist to hold on tight for her hugs. Her head sits directly underneath my chin. Over the time we have spent together, she has called me many things - darling, Mom, her friend, her clinish. In reality, the only appropriate name is clinish but I don't really give a shit. I wish I could be all of those things to her. We meet weekly for her therapy sessions, talking about any number of things from her family to her future to her relationships with boys (and, sometimes, girls). Generally, no topic is off limits; however, she can skillfully avoid conversation around things that make her heart hurt if she is not up to it. Every week she asks me to adopt her. It takes everything in my being to not say, okay, come home with me.

All of the youth I have worked with over the years have been unique and special. Not all of them have carved a place in my heart however. I think there's been three who have accomplished this and Little C overrides any deep feelings I've had for other youth in my care. She is what I look forward to when I enter the residence, she is what I look forward to in my endless week of meetings and paperwork. She has a part of me, as I have a part of her.

In the beginning of March, Little C is being discharged back to her home community. One of her sister's is pregnant and just got out of jail and the two other sisters are continuing with their legacy of substance abuse - as is her mother. She knows exactly what she is walking back into. Despite any change that she has made over the past 18 months of treatment, nothing has changed within her family system and this is unlikely to ever happen. In order to cope, she will drink and drug and place herself in extreme situations of danger, as this is all she knows. She will become lost within herself and found all at the same time. She will be back where she started. My heart breaks when I think of her leaving; selfishly I want her to stay in treatment with me forever. I want to know she is well fed with a warm bedroom and a chance at an education. I want to know that she is safe when she is asleep. I want my hugs, as they bring us both a measure of peace and comfort. I don't know who has learned more from who, as I have certainly learned about survival from her. She has learned love from me, which is not the lessons I am professionally supposed to impart on the youth I work with. It is what it is and I am not ashamed of the relationship we have built.

The only thing I can hope for is that she remembers me, somewhere deep in her heart, and that she takes me with her through her life journey. I hope that she remembers that someone loved her once in all the right ways, without abuse, exploitation, conditions or expectations. And may be, should she continue to survive, she will someday reflect back on her darling, her Mom, her friend, her clinish and offer herself the same love that I did.

To Little C....you have a piece of me.

The Naturopath

"Natural forces within us are the true healers of disease."  ~ Hippocrates (Ancient Greek Physician).

After my osteopath and I completed the bulk of our work together, he suggested that I meet with the naturopath working at the clinic to work through deeper issues. I had goals around quitting smoking both cigarettes and, more importantly (and harder to accomplish), pot. My osteopath knew his limits. So, I booked an appointment to meet with the naturopath, knowing that I could not afford to do so past the allotted dollars I had in my benefits package through work (I have a great plan that includes $500 for acupuncture, osteopath & naturopath services). The first appointment cost $260, so I knew $500 wouldn't go far. However, what I quickly realized is that healing my soul was priceless and that's precisely what he's been able to do for me.

It is said, by whom I'm not sure, that one appointment with a naturopath (a good naturopath and they are not all created equally) is the equivalent to a year's worth of therapy. This is astoundingly accurate. Basically, what mine did was meet with me to do an assessment that involved asking me a lot of questions about how I feel. My job was to describe, in detail, how I felt, which was far more difficult than expected. For example, one of the feelings I constantly felt was the feeling of being scattered, on fast-forward, and restless. He got me to describe each of these things, as in: what does scattered feel like? He attempted to get me to describe this concept without attaching it to the human condition and the best I could come up with was describing that I felt like a dandelion whose seeds were uncontrollably blowing with each passing wind.

After meeting for around an hour and a half, he prescribed me a remedy, of which I had no idea what it was. Naturopath's who use homeopathy give remedies that are either plant, animal, mineral or energy based. As it turned out, mine was energy based. I cannot really explain what that means as it would take a lot of time and (ha) energy. But, what he gave me has since worked to heal my soul in more ways than I could imagine. It is not a drug; rather it is water that has been exposed to a certain energy source for a certain amount of time in certain conditions. If you understand quantum physics, which I do not, you know that water can absorb the energy of different things - and that is the best explanation I can offer.

The first time I took my remedy, I felt like what I imagine a Zen-monk feels like after meditating for 20 consecutive years in a monastery in Tibet. Everything inside of me just stopped. All the feelings of restlessness and being on fast-forward halted and, I will say, it was extremely uncomfortable. This feeling was so unknown to my body and brain, I found myself smoking a lot of pot just to deregulate myself to return to my baseline state of anxiousness. Weird, I know, but I couldn't manage it. Over time, however, this feeling became far more attractive and now, about two to three months later, I cannot live without it. We have adjusted the potency of my remedy three times to find the one that is most beneficial to me, which ended up being the lowest potency that I take more frequently. Since this time, my life has changed dramatically.

I am now addicted to being happy, instead of being addicted to pot. I stopped my almost 20 year habit about two months ago and it was simple. Something I struggled with for almost two decades was no longer a difficult goal to achieve and I don't miss it nor crave it. There were other changes as well that involved ongoing feelings of calmness, being centered and reflective insight. I am a dramatically different person. A happy, happy, happy person.  I meet with my naturopath on a monthly basis to continue our work together and just being in his presence makes me feel like my feet are firmly planted on the ground. That and the feeling that the possibilities within my life are endless. 

Dolphin Boy

Given that I do therapy with traumatized teenagers, this story (featured on The Passionate Eye) carried special meaning for me. It is 45 minutes in length and worth every moment of your time.

Enjoy.
http://www.cbc.ca/passionateeye/episode/dolphin-boy.html#

Unstoppable.

"Life is to be lived. If you have to support yourself, you had bloody well better find some way that is going to be interesting. And you don't do that by sitting around wondering about yourself." ~ Katharine Hepburn (American Actress).

I've been working pretty damn hard on myself since November 2010. As a person who has struggled with....well, basically everything.....for years upon years, I felt that my 33rd year better be big. Not getting any younger, that's for sure. I've realized that change is absolutely possible given the right support. You'd think I would have inherently known this given that I am a children's therapist....but, as we know, we therapists are awesome at solving anyone else's problems but our own.

Over the past 15 months I have accomplished the following:

- 15 months of therapy with a rockstar therapist to work through practically everything. Have accomplished all the goals I laid out at the beginning of therapy and am now starting to wean off sessions because all I talk about is happy stuff now.

- Quit biting my nails, a lifelong affliction. 

- Went gluten-free/ mostly organic and stopped eating red meat.

- Quit smoking pot, another lifelong affliction. 

- Ceased looking for approval from anyone but myself, particularly my wacky family. 

- Developed and following through with a plan to travel to Africa to volunteer for two months (193 days left on the countdown).

- Started seeing an Osteopath and Naturopath, which are helping me save me.

- Enrolled in an African dance class, which I begin tonight.

- Became social with friends (see quit smoking pot).

- Stopped sleeping all the time (again, see quit smoking pot).

- Recently started exploring Qigong and am looking into Tai Chi classes.

This list makes me proclaim: I am fucking unstoppable man!!!! 

Rock on. 

Beautiful.

Oh, the Places You'll Go at Burning Man.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ahv_1IS7SiE&feature=share

My sister sent me this link today because it reminded her of me. I felt understood in that moment and it brought tears to my eyes.

Enjoy.

It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Africa

"The difference between great people and everyone else is that great people create their lives actively, while everyone else is created by their lives, passively waiting to see where life takes them next. The difference between the two is the difference between living fully and just existing." ~ Michael E. Gerber (Non-fiction Writer)

Opening up my Christmas presents and seeing items such as a bug net, water purification tablets, and a Whiz It (a contraption that allows women to pee standing up - hahaha), made things even more real. The date is creeping closer and, as of today, I sit at 214 days until departure. Time is moving so quickly all of a sudden and there's so much to accomplish.....so much I still don't know and need to figure out. 

When I close my eyes and picture myself there, the place I've dreamed of for so long, I get butterflies in my stomach. 

I like butterflies.