tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66762661682447618172024-03-14T04:00:49.591-06:00Wacky Waving Anxiety and Depression This is my life, contains anxiety and the constant struggle with the unknown.Rikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.comBlogger169125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6676266168244761817.post-6470518705166008352021-09-03T09:19:00.001-06:002021-09-03T09:19:40.386-06:0030 (part 1: wedding)<p> I turn 30 in less than a week. I have some time to reflect, and over the past month I have some thoughts to get out on paper. </p><p><br /></p><p>I may not remember much of my time on opiates. I know that listening to someone who does not have your back is a gigantic time waste and black hole of resources. I could be so much further along than where I am at the age of 30. I could be in my own place with my wife. I would not have wasted 15 thousand over 4 years in my early 20's for someone who did not deserve it. I would not have sacrificed so many relationships over those years either. I was raised by my uncle; unfortunately, I still have so many traits of my mother. I have slowly worked on working them out. Slowly worked on the "woe is me" attitude. Slowly worked on "the art of manipulation" attitude. I have really worked hard on the boundaries that people have. Early in life I watched a lot of prodding and intruding in people's lives and relationships. </p><p>As I aged I had begun to do the same things. Friends, family, and coworkers were just part of the gambit of information and trolling. I did not understand the real world consequence of being a Nosey Norman for years. I destroyed my relationships with more people than I would even realize. From my best friend growing up, Jaden and his family. To my relationships with my in-laws. My relationships with bosses and colleagues. I never understood boundaries or where my feet are. Because I watched my mother growing up continuously absolutely slash and burn every major relationship. With the only flame left would be the hate and grudges held. Maybe that's not just emblematic of my mother, but maybe a lot of my family. </p><p>I am slowly working on my life. I think I am making good adjustments, but self-doubt will creep in all the time. I am more quiet, I am more likely not to talk unless spoken to. </p><p>Among the things of the last decade I might change is the guest list for the wedding. My own mother showed up late, held up the ceremony for a half hour. Because the world revolved around her time. (Maybe that's why I'm so paranoid about being late) My cousins of whom I asked if they would celebrate this day with me... Did not show up. I was not allowed to invite my Dad because it became a day of infighting with my mother if I did that. I didn't get to invite people like my Auntie Barbie, Patty or June because it was not worth fighting with my mother over. I invited people I thought were my brothers only to have them fight with me the night before. I would change a lot about our wedding day. except for the moment I got to look in my wife's eyes and she made me want to be a better person. </p><p>There were a lot of incredible guests at my wedding as well</p><p>People like my late cousin Jeanine had all the reasons not to attend my wedding with the death of her best friend, and she showed up. She was ever present and was genuinely happy for me. Jeanine's mother, my Auntie Edie, of whom was an absolute rock star at our wedding. She was so busy I have barely any photos of her at the wedding except for her working in the background. </p><p>My friend Matt who flew out from St Louis after knowing me for 4 months and got hammered on sangria. My uncle Lonnie who could not be happier to watch me have that moment (of whom I got to watch have his moment a few years later). He was the only uncle who showed up, not even my Godfather showed up. None of my aunts. It helped me learn the effect of the people I put my time in effort to and the effect they had on my personal relationships with my family. </p><p>I know I have a lot of people in my corner. I know I have done a lot of damage to those I admire and hold close to my heart. Maybe it's the self doubt. But, I have earned forgiveness, and I have worked on who I want to be. That is just generally a good person who wants the best for those around me. I have a lot more love in my heart. It took 3 decades to learn that love is more useful than hate and that hate in your life will forever destroy your well-being. </p><p>for a lasting thought, in regards to the self-doubt. I wish I felt the self-worth I should. If I could feel the way about myself that people who love me feel about me. </p><p>Regards,</p><p>Devon</p><p><br /></p>Rikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6676266168244761817.post-17835035427409728072021-05-25T08:29:00.000-06:002021-05-25T08:29:29.319-06:00Night <p> Maybe I should not be afraid of change. But, that is not me. Living paycheque to paycheque, asking for money, finding ways to get food. I would've thought watching those around me figure out how to navigate life with obstacles, children, and emotions mixed in would have helped me navigate change. It has not.</p><p> I have become a creature of habit to deal with my depression. I would go to bed at the same time everyday, I would eat around the same time, I would allow myself to snack. I would smoke at the same times everyday. I learned that my brain does not do well when I am up past 10 pm. I trained my body (with the help of sleep aids) to go to bed so I would not have to feel the anxiety and depression that comes with being up at night. A lot of my feelings towards being up alone have been passed onto me by my familial upbringings. My mom did not like being up alone and for whatever reason I understand why. </p><p> With a change in work I have now found myself in the deepest of fears of my mind. Being up past 11. I get home at 12:20. In that 5 minutes after I get home I will find out what Devon will be battling it out. I feel a very heightened sense of depression being up alone. It is truly emblematic of what depression is. No one to talk with. Just me and my brain.</p><p> I'll be fine... For however long this lasts. I will not be living a very happy life during this stretch that I am on evening shift. I'll be living a life of necessity to make it through the dark hours. Over the past 4 years I have sincerely worked on my mental health. I guess I will find out if I can put together some of those preparations to keep my severe depression from coming back. </p><p> In these 2 years since I have been gainfully employed I have not suffered from as severe of depression as it used to be. I haven't had a suicidal thought in about 20 months. It has been unlike any feeling I can have before. But, even as I type this, I can tell you that anxiety and depression do not move on a continuous timeline. They just mess up your day... whenever the want. I need to stay above myself. Nipping any possible negative thoughts from festering and manifesting. Maybe this is all in bad taste. Because all in all, I'm happily married, employed, have strong relationships and friends I KNOW care about me and my success. I have remained relatively healthy, saw beautiful things, have meaningful conversations. I have not had to live uncomfortably in 4 years, I have been fortunate to work on my marriage in a way I never thought possible and I have cut a lot of toxicity from my life. I do not have it as bad as most people.</p><p> But for me, at 12:25am for the next month+ I only see the negative and dwell on my own insecurities and misunderstandings.</p><p><br /></p><p>Regards,</p><p>Devon</p>Rikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6676266168244761817.post-37697323034547134112020-11-02T08:16:00.000-07:002020-11-02T08:16:48.240-07:00Most Days<p> I thought as I got older I would learn to appreciate the idea of the unknown. Whether at a conversational level or at an ethereal level. I've become infatuated with this notion that it gets easier to deal with the longer I fight through life. I am finding I am more apathetic to what the unknown is. But, never understanding why people enjoy the "unknown". Every moment of speech in my life is usually followed by 4 or 5 thought chains of what the consequence of that conversation might be. I am truly shackled to my brain and he can be an asshole. I am conscious of nothing in life can truly be planned for you. Everyday is a sequence of events, where you are, who you are with and what you are doing. </p><p><br /></p><p>I can appreciate a sunset</p><p>I can appreciate a heartfelt conversation</p><p>I can appreciate my own reflection</p><p>I can appreciate an awkward silence</p><p><br /></p><p><b>... most days. </b></p><p><br /></p><p>I am frustrated that the questions I have posed to the older people who have lived life with anxiety and depression never yields the answer I want. It kinda seems like you life with your anxiety and depression but it never goes away. You just fill life with vices, conversation, laughter so you don't have to deal with your own crippling depression. I understand there will never be a cure all, and now that science is catching up with mental health; I hope that gets better.</p><p><br /></p><p>On the other side of the coin, unknown is what leads to the most important things in your life. People you meet, people you laugh with, people who care. It can lead to those moments where you stop in your tracks and think, "maybe everything does happen for a reason". Though, in your head you know that that's really a placebic reaction that makes the bad consequences easier to deal with. It beats thinking that some deity just really has it in for you</p><p><br /></p><p>If not for the people close to me I'm not sure I could fight through everyday. Getting scared of how each interaction is becoming a little commonplace. Which, is fine as an introvert. But... There is a fine line. I'm getting better at recognizing when I am slipping. I think that is what the people who have talked to me about anxiety and depression is easier to deal with; is that the notion that you get better at recognizing when the fear of the unknown puts you into a hole with your demons. It's better to not jump in the hole than to jump in to give your demons the satisfaction.</p><p><br /></p><p>Adulthood with depression is so much harder than I thought it would be. As a kid, depression is really just an overwhelming sadness when you do not know why you are sad. Depression in adulthood is replaying those sad memories and try to find some attachment and rationalize them, for better or worse. Every memory of yelling, and pain, and frustration, and tears have a place. It is to make you appreciate the feeling of a positive memory. For me, positive memories are behind a wall of bad memories. Aging is just chipping away at the wall so you can see the light of the good memories.</p><p><br /></p><p>I can appreciate my depression</p><p>I can appreciate why not everyday is going to be great</p><p>I can appreciate my own insecurities</p><p>I can appreciate why death exists</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><b>... Most Days.</b></p><p><br /></p><p>Regards,</p><p><br /></p><p>Devon</p>Rikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6676266168244761817.post-70344419577163742192020-08-31T10:38:00.002-06:002020-08-31T10:38:53.079-06:00Adulthood<p> The past 5 years have been a rather interesting journey. </p><p><br /></p><p>Through the first 15 years of my life I would say I grew up faster than anyone else my age. I noticed things, I had to grow up quickly because of the constant medical procedures and appointments. From 15-23 I would say there was very little growth as a human being. I never made a complete realization of what transitioning into adulthood looked like. Constantly shielded by my mother to how an adult should act and behave. It created a toxic feeling of needing my mother instead of allowing me to grow. </p><p><br /></p><p>over the past 5 years I would say I have learned a lot and tried to grow into the man that is honest, hardworking, selfless and empathetic. I have learned what makes my depression does to me. I have learned that I am not defined by my anxiety and depression and it is okay to tell people that I ain't feeling it sometimes. I have learned to process my emotions and thoughts on a deeper scale. Learned what makes my psychology kick. I fell in love with myself, for the first time in my life. I learned to love the body I am. Learned that maybe I didn't need as many surgeries as I had after the age of 15. I learned to take care of myself because the constant apathetic attitude of "oh well, I will die eventually" isn't the way to live life. I learned the dichotomy of good vs evil in the world is truly beautiful. I have learned to not ingest every little bit of news as it is not healthy for me. </p><p>I have discovered that my wife is truly my rock. She shows me the world. She drags me out to see the world because there is beauty in every corner. </p><p><br /></p><p>Heading into 29 next week is kind of terrifying and sobering. I am on the cusp of 30 and what I would consider the next part of life. I'm not sure what my health looks like over the next decade. </p><p><br /></p><p>I hope I continue to grow to love myself. I hope I can tell me wife everyday that I love her. I hope that my friends realize that I am not a dick for not texting to check up. I am constantly working on me, constantly working on my introversion and constantly working to be empathetic and selfless. I am not good at small talk, I'm not good at carrying a conversation. I am not perfect, but I am working towards what I think is perfect for me. I do not want to lose friends. I do not want to lose the people who help shape my identity everyday. I am sorry I am not a great friend in the times of a pandemic, I do not know how to navigate my anxiety when it comes to these. Growing up a person who had my anxiety played with to be afraid of somethings makes me a little paranoid of things. Of saying the wrong things, of upsetting people with trivial things. I may not have the life experience of most people my age but I am humble. Know that I over-analyze every interaction I have. I over-analyze what my hands are. I still think of the shitty things I said to my family, my friends, and most heartbreaking; I remember all the shit I put my wife through. Being an angry, suicidal, opiate addicted young adult ruined some relationships I would've rather kept. Being constantly told I don't need anyone but my mother put me in a arrogant, self-serving mindset. I remember every thing I broke, everything I said. I remember every spiteful action I made just to get a piece of someone weighs on me. I taunt myself with these thoughts.</p><p><br /></p><p>I wish I knew now what those actions were going to do. That at the age of 28 and 356 days (or however it works out). I would be terrified of asking a question because I am haunted by past memories of my asshole self. That it would cause me to be introspective to the point that I am scared to be confident. </p><p><br /></p><p>I am growing everyday. I am truly devastated by myself. I am hoping I keep true to myself and not just use this post as a way to clear my guilty conscience. I want to be a guide, a leader and most importantly, a friend.</p><p><br /></p><p>I love y'all</p><p><br /></p><p>Regards,</p><p>Devon Hunt</p>Rikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6676266168244761817.post-53240900155550618752019-12-02T08:08:00.000-07:002019-12-02T08:08:30.833-07:00Figuring it out / MomMaybe trying to figure out life should take a whole lifetime. There are little things I worry about as I get older. My life with cleft lip and palate is an ongoing battle I worry will turn as I get older. With a hole in the roof of my mouth I run risk of infection, collapse and other little things. Not imminently, but the threat of it causes anxiety. As I have worked on myself in the last year I have learned a lot about what causes my anxiety, it’s usually triggered by a half thought out of nowhere and my brain picks it up and runs with it. Social media, specifically seeing people happy causes me a lot of depression. I was always taught that people have it worse off than me. But, at the same time I would like think that more people are happier than I could be. Things like holidays trigger my anxiety and depression. Growing up Christmas was always the home run. My mom went all out at Christmas. Still yelled and got temperamental. But there is few Christmas’ in my life I don’t cherish every memory of.<br />
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Which leads me to this. I love my family, I love my mother. I forgive a lot, I have forgotten a lot. I am truly not ready to talk to my mother. There is years of stress, depression and memories I have to try to work through. You only get one mother. My mother was a champion for sticking up for me, for looking after my health, for being what I needed as I got older. Along with that is the fights, the arguments, the swearing, and ultimately the depression I would learn that I have. I encountered depression for the first time at 6. As a kid, it was called being sad. But, I remember the feeling and it is similar to my everyday life now. As I got older I wished my mom told me what depression is, but when it is undiagnosed through most of my family, and not dealt with. It manifests, you become numb to what depression does to your everyday actions. There was a lot of love. There was arguably more vitriol and anger that filled the house. Up until the way the relationship with my mother that was put on hold. Which all of what was said to me has been forgiven and forgotten. Attacking my uncle who raised, cooked and cleaned for us is something I have a hard time getting over. The ugly, sad, and hateful language that you would lobby at your brother and his wife is what crushes me when I think about calling my mom again.<br />
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I think when I get older, maybe the anxieties and neuroses I have about talking to my mother again will ease. Christmas time is usually my time for reflection. It was always when I was happiest and when I felt like our house of yelling and name calling was happy.<br />
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This is a blogpost I have had written for 3 years. Maybe it is my fear of disappointing my mother one last time. As I have nearly disappointed my family/mother at every turn in my life. I am ultimately my mother’s child, with the same mental health problems, the same grudge-holding ability and the same regret when I get mad.<br />
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Love you, mom. I will be ready to talk, someday.<br />
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Much love,<br />
Regards<br />
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DevonRikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6676266168244761817.post-38463549321945096402019-04-15T12:28:00.000-06:002019-04-15T12:28:31.232-06:00DisappointmentIt's getting a little tough right now. There are always brighter days, but the darker days are here. When I suffered my first bout of depression at the age of 10, I thought that hopefully this does not last throughout my life. 17 years of cyclical depression is frustrating, upsetting and... well depressing. I always have hope that eventually I will reach an age where my depression is like, "Nah, I'm done". Whenever that happens I will have finally reached my own heaven.<br />
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I am becoming increasingly more aware how depression systematically fucks with your career, school and relationships. One thing that always is a depression trigger for me is disappointing people. I am a people pleaser (still an asshole some days). However, no amount of kudos or general gratitude outweighs one instance of disappointing someone. It's never myself, either. I've been disappointing myself since I was 7. From the first time I forgot how to spell "who" in 3rd grade. I guess when being introspective, I was able to rationalize most of my own disappointments, compartmentalize and repress and move on. I guess that's not healthy, but I don't know what healthy is.<br />
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I'm worried I am disappointing everyone. I feel I am disappointing my wife. I fear I am disappointing my Mother in law. I'm worried I am disappointing my uncle and my aunt. I'm worried I am disappointing my friends, by not visiting. I'm worried I am disappointing my best friends. I'm worried that I will disappoint people enough that I am alone. This is not a cry for people to say you do not disappoint me. I know I do not, but demons are stronger than my rational mind most days.<br />
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I am afraid to make jokes, some days. I am afraid to talk. I am afraid to move some days.<br />
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My biggest disappointment in life is how my demons have controlled a lot of my future, without me realizing it in the past. I have little self-respect. It wears and grinds at your aspirations. I did not try in a lot of ways. Most days my depression would dictate something like "You are probably going to fail. You are going to get fired. You are not doing enough. You are doing too much. You do not need to do that". As long as I did the bare minimum, I would have enough mental sustain to make it through another week. I did not enjoy school, for the reason that depression crushes you when you take exams. I failed relationships because the thought of "If someone else is depressed, you'll feel better." It is a dangerous way to live life with always wondering when someone will tune you up. You isolate, you forget. You forgive but the other person does not. That is when depression has won.<br />
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I am worried that no one wants to read the depressed thoughts of a 27 year old man.<br />
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I am worried I am disappointing everyone.<br />
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Regards,<br />
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Devon.Rikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6676266168244761817.post-36384393428201067142019-01-16T11:58:00.000-07:002019-01-16T11:58:00.370-07:0010 yearsI don't have a picture of myself at age 17. That's probably a lie, but like fuck I'm going to try to unearth it.<br />
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If you had told me when I was 17 that I would still be here. I would call you a liar. The thoughts I had at 17 were depressing and self-deprecating. Unfortunately, that has not changed in 10 years.<br />
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If you had told me I would meet the love of my life, marry her and tell me that she would still put up with me after 9 years.<br />
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If you would have told me my thoughts on climate change would skew so far into the other direction... Well I would fucking hope so with the amount of information out there.<br />
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If you had told me that I would plan my life being over at 22, and live to 27 I would honestly have been a little disappointed.<br />
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If you would have told me that I would hold a job for graduate high school, go to university and hold a steady job for 6 years I would have been ecstatic.<br />
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If you would have told me I have made some of the raddest friends who live everywhere around the world that would have surprised me.<br />
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If you would have told me that 10 years on I would become on of the most selfless persons I know. I would be shocked.<br />
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If you told me I would stop trying to ruin people's day with trolling and vicious verbal attacks I would have probably lashed out at you.<br />
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If you would have told me that my depression is dealt with for the most part, it is still crippling and makes me afraid of the world I would have probably died when I had planned too.<br />
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If you would have told me that nearly my entire family including my brothers, mother and grandmother could give two shits about what happens to me, I would be heartbroken. That my family has outcasted and shunned me, I would have probably have wept. However, that is the harsh reality of growing up angry, bitter and depressed.<br />
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If you would have told me that I would be searching for a job for 4 months without a call back at the age of 27, I'd be a little disappointed in myself.<br />
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Trying to rebuild a person who was broken, angry and afraid over 10 years has been a frustrating endeavor. I always wonder if I have changed for the better.<br />
Wonder if I made the right choice by living.<br />
If life will be different in another 10 years. If I will still be pain, mentally and physically.<br />
If I will still be outcast from my family.<br />
If I am a better person. If I have a job I'm comfortable in.<br />
If I am still married to the love of my life, or will she grow tired of me. Because, I've grown tired of myself.<br />
If I will stop being as grating and aggressive.<br />
If I would become the person I thought I could be when I was 7. If I could've changed the situation for the people who have passed. That I would hope I still stick up for the little guys. If the world would seem a little more stable and cohesive. If I would finally be happy in life.<br />
In 10 years I hope I am still here, for better or worse.Rikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6676266168244761817.post-32472533589228119492018-12-03T14:07:00.001-07:002018-12-03T14:07:18.065-07:00New TerritoryMaybe I thought this would be easier. Maybe I thought that what I had done in my life would make sense.<br />
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At the age of 27, when you realize you have no redeeming prospects, kinda leaves you lost. I have battled, I have jockey'd for position. I have been lazy, I have watched life slip through my hands. Talking about myself has never been easy. Despite what you may think. If I were to talk about myself all the time it would be Eeyore mixed with Squidward. I have become a lot more self-reflective. I use humour as a way to distract from the true pit of despair I feel most days. I can flip any conversation about myself with a dumb joke or self-deprecating humour. Unfortunately, most of the time I am self-deprecating, I am actually expressing my feelings.<br />
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"I do nothing, I have nothing, I am nothing" Is a general theme that runs through my head. I had multiple conversations with people of some stature. When the topic of what I do came up, how do I tell them that I play video games for 12 hours and have panic attacks and manic moments where I think I am nothing, where I have gotten so good with faking my emotions. That the crushing anxiety I have I can hide it so well. There is no social cue to discuss this. "I got laid off. I applied for jobs, I sit on a broken couch and wonder if 16 year old me would be proud" Cause 27 year old me is not proud. for the past 2 years, life has put me through more than what I would've thought imaginable. I was sure I was an adult before. I am an adult now.<br />
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I am trying not to be eaten alive. My demons did not get the memo. How do I tell them that I am controlled by my anxiety and depression. The social construct of meeting new people is "Hi, how are you. What do you do for a living". It is all I can do to not say "I am 27, Unemployed, and feel like life hates me" or "I really wish I was someone else, because I am struggling" That's not a way to lighten up a party.<br />
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I am figuring it out, step by step. My wife will support me every step of the way. I just cannot shake the feeling that I am disappointing her, because everyone around us seems more stable (up front anyways). I feel like I disappoint most people I come across. That may not be the truth, but my mind will keep rattling me.<br />
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I hope I can come back to this in a year and be happy, or at least...less disappointed in myself.<br />
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Regards,<br />
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DevonRikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6676266168244761817.post-3610009521077831542018-05-31T13:10:00.000-06:002018-05-31T13:10:04.105-06:00Self-doubtSome days are harder than others. I am constantly at a battle with my mind and self worth. I have a strong group of friends. I have family that loves me. I have a wife who only wants the best for me. I have rekindled relationships with my father and step-father. Unaware of the psychological damage that was done over 26 years. The anxiety for nothing, mostly anxiety for thinking I should feel anxious at any given moment. The increasing levels of depression I feel now. I hope eventually I will not feel anxious.<div>
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I am emotional, I am abrasive and I am afraid. I fall back into the same patterns and same routines with my depression. I feel inadequate most days. Slowly looking back through the years and realize at 26 I am nowhere near as established as people my age. Maybe it's the fact it has taken me 26 years to learn I was not grown up. I was always sheltered from the nuances of life. Instead festering years of depression. Slowly dominating every aspect of my life; from school, home and friends. Maybe I don't want to lose friends. I want to know people. Keep people in my life. Someone to remember me. Someone to remember. <div>
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I had stopped writing because for the most part, I do not feel like my words are worth reading. I wish I was stronger in my respect for myself and creativity. I am not as introverted as I thought; however, with depression, you become paralyzed by the fear of having no one love you. The constant struggle with telling yourself that someone's life is better because they know you. Some days I think someone's day is better because I made them laugh. The trade off of being as aggressive as I am I think more people would rather avoid a conversation with me. </div>
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I have lived 25 years as a person who was not built for success or at least did not feel like I was built for success. For the last year I have tried to rehabilitate my mind, my convictions, my thoughts. Most of all, over the past year. I have tried to make the people around me feel happy. Something I have never done before. I have worked on my relationships with myself; at a mental and emotional level. I may not be where I want to be. I will get there. I will feel the self worth someday. </div>
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The depression will fade one day (hopefully). Until then, I will try to overcome it and my demons. </div>
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Best Regards,</div>
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Devon</div>
Rikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6676266168244761817.post-6931751978865905732018-03-02T12:53:00.002-07:002018-03-02T12:56:00.165-07:00Nostalgia (brothers)Living with anxiety coupled with regret freezes you. In a moment, in a minute, for a month, for a year. Living with chronic anxiety is reliving every embarrassing moment and every tearful moment. When you remember most moments in your life, it is because of the emotion you felt at the time. More likely to remember the sad moments than that of a happy moment. So, when you say "I don't remember the last time I was happy", it is mostly true.<br />
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I remember a lot of my youth. I looked up to my brothers a lot. They were my biggest role models. I wanted to learn guitar for my older brother. I do not have the patience for that shit. I wanted to learn hockey, I wanted to skate (until I skated), I went to every game. I wanted so much more from my brothers. I wanted to me the punk emo Gordie Howe. Surprisingly, that has not happened.... Yet. My brother was always good at school. Even during his "I don't give a fuck phase" he crushed school. He writes with an elegance that I will never reach. I remember reading one of his essays from high school. He wrote with so much flow and eloquence. It became part of the reason why I started writing this blog. Once again, as my brother as a role model I decided to write. I have no flow, comma splices, and zero eloquence 0/3. </div>
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There's enough that my brothers have done that have left me bruised. They were crusher in the wrestling ring and hand hockey tournaments. They were pretty much all I had growing up. Grudges held my best friends away from me. My brothers were what I knew would be around forever...</div>
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...</div>
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I became so much more aware of how much they meant to me as I got older. For just another minute of playing Mario Party in the old basement with the insulation hanging out. Just another powerbomb or suplex on thin mattress on top of a concrete floor. Just another minute of a 5-5 next goal wins hand hockey tournament. Just another minute of being brothers and talking to each other. Going to flea markets to find the latest DVD that they are underselling. Watch one last period of a hockey game that my brother is playing in. One last game of "don't play catch in the house". Just one last minute of nostalgia to make the moment stay. </div>
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You are not given a set amount of time with your family and you are not able to see when everything turns. </div>
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Savor each moment with your family, from the sad ones to the happy ones. Being brothers was never easy. But, they helped shape the person I am. For better or worse. </div>
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Best Regards.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Devon</div>
Rikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6676266168244761817.post-88228862745999930162018-02-26T00:36:00.000-07:002018-02-26T00:36:02.754-07:00Disintegrating I do not make friends easily, it is part of my flaws. Being afraid of having friends to disappoint. Overthink if I said the wrong joke (most of the times I did). Beginning to see after 25 years of anger, frustration and general sadness. Friends lift you up. Friends become ingrained in your culture. No matter the walks of life, race or sex. Being a friend is the best thing you can do today, tomorrow and everyday,<br />
<br />
I also have become aware of how terrifying this blog gets. In my mind, in my life and the dichotomy of anxiety and depression. I do not hold much against the people I trust. I found it easier to end friendships before communicating. I wish I was a better friend. I wish I was a better person.<br />
<br />
I am not an example of what I thought I would be. I am not successful, I am not well liked. I do enough to get by. I'm not sure when I stopped fighting. Everyday of my life was a fight. Eventually you get tired of fighting... Finding that switch is hard. Wanting to turn it back on is harder.<br />
<br />
Regards,<br />
<br />
DevonRikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6676266168244761817.post-60554272923756324522018-01-26T01:56:00.001-07:002018-01-26T01:56:25.838-07:00SomedaySomeday<br />
<br />
It was the day I was to be gone. It was the day I would never talk to you again. It was the day where I realize what I needed. Trying to find a rhythm. A purpose. It was a day where I thought I knew what I wanted to do with my life.<br />
<br />
Someday.<br />
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It is the day I thought I would never be alive. It was the day where I never wanted to die. It is the day of days, where you do nothing and everything all at once. It was the day where my life changed for the better.<br />
<br />
Someday.<br />
<br />
I write to stay alive. I will live. I will make you proud. I will find a new role model. I will be a better person. I will be a stronger person. I will find out where I have gone wrong. What I have done right. I will figure this all out.<br />
<br />
Someday.Rikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6676266168244761817.post-24254642253977878542017-12-17T12:45:00.001-07:002017-12-17T12:45:19.164-07:00WhereverWherever you are. I hope you are happy. If not, content.<br />
<br />
I hope that where I found you was a omen to where you will end up.<br />
<br />
Wherever the water went, I hope it gave new life to love. I wish that life had made you happy.<br />
<br />
I hope that one day, you find peace. In some form or another.<br />
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If there is an afterlife, I hope it found you well.<br />
<br />
There is blooms and memories. I have no idea what brought me to that spot.<br />
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You have effected me more than I know why. For better or for worse. Fragile and delicate.<br />
<br />
Whoever you are I hope you lived a normal life.<br />
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Wherever you are, I hope there is no more depression.<br />
<br />
Wherever.Rikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6676266168244761817.post-91538379413292639282017-11-01T15:06:00.002-06:002017-11-01T15:06:15.951-06:00DriveThere is not a lot in my life I am proud of. I am proud of the people around me. I am proud of my wife, my friends and whatever is left of my family. I make $160 dollars a week in a field that is on life support. I do not have a driver's license, I haven't had a full time job for 3 years and my depression absolutely cripples me. I have not felt this down in a few years. I want so much more out of life. But, sometimes it is too much. It is too encapsulating. I have never thought of myself as lazy, unmotivated or slothful.<br />
<br />
But, at a certain point, breaks make themselves and if you are not paying attention they go away. I'm not there, mentally. I've never been sure of my abilities. I've never been capable of seeing where life could take me. It is where I am now. Focusing on that is what truly kicks everything into overdrive. I am not a handyman or whatever bullshit a man should be at birth. I cannot cook, I cannot be anything remotely artistic. I am good at video games. What a sentence. I am good at time wasting.<br />
<br />
One day I will figure out life. But, killing time for the last 8 years and not setting myself up for success is what truly bugs me. I do not know if that is a product of me or what I thought my life was going to be. It is reality at this point. I'm under-qualified for "adult jobs". I am overqualified for grunt jobs. Only thing I am qualified at is annoying my wife.<br />
<br />
Be what you want to be out of life. Cause the moment you lose the desire to want, you lose the desire to be better.<br />
<br />
Best Regards,<br />
<br />
DevonRikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6676266168244761817.post-76576605557540877792017-05-30T01:46:00.000-06:002017-05-30T01:46:01.690-06:00AloneAs I sit with my headphones on, having a panic attack all alone; I wonder if my anxiety will ever be truly wrangled. As I take my last SSRI to feel some semblance of happiness, I am alone. I wish I could tell me wife, that I am scared when we sleeps. Because I do not like myself when I am up alone. It's not that I do not trust myself, it is that my health is so hit or miss, I do not know when my number will be called. <div>
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The thing that eats me alive, is I will undoubtedly die before my wife, and the one thing I would hate to do to anyone, is leave them alone. </div>
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Maybe I'm selfish for thinking I'm that important. She'll be more successful, intelligent, and beautiful that anything I'll ever deserve. as I try to see through the tears, I feel as if I am in a fish bowl. Forever swimming... Alone.</div>
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Part of my last blog post informed people I used to use trolling as a tool to be isolated from anyone I had a friendship with. It is what I did to feel alone, feeling sorry for myself. </div>
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Now, I wish I could tell those people it was not their fault. I felt alone, and felt like I should be alone.</div>
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It is hard to make me feel alive. I am afraid to go to my doctor, I'm afraid to tell people my feelings and what I need. I beat myself up about the littlest things. I tell my brain that maybe being alone is not the worse thing. I am alone, working on me. I'm not the only one who feels this way. You are not the only one who feels this way. I feel whole until 12 o clock. As the world sleeps, I will feel. Alone.</div>
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Regards,</div>
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Devon</div>
Rikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6676266168244761817.post-87830316707765208892017-05-29T21:56:00.000-06:002017-05-29T21:56:05.924-06:00What you can learn from a former trollWell, I am trying not to be an asshole anymore. Something that is learned about 18 years after you are 5. You don't need to take a piece out of someone just to take a piece out of someone. Something I have learned over the past year is, wow, I am/was a dick. Through facebook, real life, twitter, other social media platforms. I probably deserved to get the stuffing punched out of me. The biggest thing that made me stop. Is the people who tend to take a bite out of people just for fun, just happen to be the kind of people I do not like to be around. So, Why be that person for other people. Weed helps, holy shit can you let go of shit when you are high. Weed for everyone.<br />
<br />
Being a troll is a lonely life. Constantly searching trigger happy topics that include immigration, race, money, class. It is a lonely life. If I could get under your skin enough to swear at me. That was a win in my book?<br />
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Win?<br />
<br />
I am a loser, and am very lucky to have the friends I do have. Sometimes I wanted to be left alone. Sometimes I thought I deserved to be alone.<br />
<br />
It was not until a very articulate conversation about gay marriage that I realized I was putting someone else's ethics into question. The smartest person I know. One thing you learn about people you respect, you do not want to see them either; angry, or disappointed. That day, this person was both. I believe I was 16. It was not until I stopped blaming others for my problems that I thought that conversation was the most important conversation I may have in my life.<br />
<br />
Growing up with a white conservative stepdad had molded me from a young age, I thought he is someone who showed love where my father hadn't. So, I took the same ethical stances as he did (this stopped around 15, at the time of the conversation). He very much hated the idea of gay marriage, liberal ideologies and immigration. He was a born and bread white conservative. He hated he lived in a house that voted entirely opposite of him. He turned immature and ultimately abandoned everyone who had loved him. Sounds familiar?<br />
<br />
I would soon have the second most important conversation of my life. The day he left. I told him you are not a man, you are weak, and lacked any sort of moral fiber. He was turning my life upside down (as I knew it). I became even stronger in my convictions when it came to everything that was about the "conservative ideologies." I had begun to take political science courses so I could learn the other side.<br />
<br />
I had begun to curb my trolling by deactivating facebook for 2 weeks. Social media is easy to get lost in. It's easy to be a presence, and it is even easier to be the proverbial wrestling heel. It is easy to make people hate you, it is hard to make them like you.<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;">Be kind to yourselves,</span><br />
<br />
DevonRikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6676266168244761817.post-82702896693030217112017-02-05T07:27:00.001-07:002017-02-05T07:27:25.917-07:00Thanks for the words.Part of life is making friends. Deep right. Fucking. That's why you came to this blog. Hard hitting journalism and facts like that.<br />
<br />
Anyways, Since my last post, apparently I activated DEFCON 6 and everyone has reached out. It has been nice. I know I got my crew. I know that I can call or text any of them and they are down for a chat. The issue is. My demons play from around 1-5 am. They are like a cat. Sleep for the whole day and whine all night. When I truly need that "oomph" person to get me righted. Is at 2:34 am or at 2:46 am when everything is starting to spiral and I don't quite know if tomorrow will ever be a certainty.<br />
<br />
The lovely art of staying awake, is that you sleep at insane hours and for insane hours to the point it makes you look useless. I am up til 4 am because my legs and my demons like to work an abbot and costello routine on my sleep schedule.Rikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6676266168244761817.post-9246922879151385202017-02-02T01:53:00.000-07:002017-02-02T01:53:09.326-07:00SlippingI am writing this to keep myself upright. I am emotionless. Going through. Asked if I'm alright. I'm not, you better believe I will tell you I am. I cannot tell you why I am not. Maybe I cannot handle being me. The pressures of finding a job with my health limitations is amazing. Then throw in the fact that I am now using Cannabis as a pain manager. I am also a god damn lazy slob. My mind will not let me wake up and be anything resembling a human. I want to be everything.<br />
<br />
I'll come up short. But, I'd at least like to make a mark on the wall. I have crushing anxiety that you will one day realize that I am damaged goods. I am a leech, I am nothing but excuses. I am self-deprecating and self-depreciating as the days go by.<br />
<br />
When I was young all I wanted to be one half of 2 people married and happy. Because I had never truly seen the picture of happiness when it came to partnership. Two people contributing. Two people making bad jokes. Two people being. Two people not afraid of going to the movies because he is afraid he will snap on the person who will inevitably kick his chair. Even though the guy kickin' my chair is not even remotely the problem. He'll become it until he knocks my ass flat. How Bow Dah.<br />
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This ideology of the stay at home wife is that the husband goes out and works and brings home the money. Woman...? I don't know, Cleans the room, Does the dishes, Maybe does anything productive. Guess what I do? Write dick jokes on twitter, take 2 pisses and feel some semblance of accomplishment.<br />
<br />
I realized January 2015 that I was never going to be what I wanted to be. But my biggest fear is that I will never be what you need.<br />
<br />
D.Rikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6676266168244761817.post-27786853069439847752017-01-05T05:19:00.000-07:002017-01-05T05:19:28.329-07:00I fearWhat happens when a person puts themselves on the line? They feel vulnerable, they want to die. They really want to die. Well, last year. I submitted a sub-par piece of writing to publishing website. I got a response asking for changes. Changes were made. Email was sent back. And no email was returned. The lack of followup means two things: My email was lost in the shuffle... Or... I'm worthless and will die in a pit of hopelessness.<br />
<br />
I have been a lot happier. I am really trying to see the positive in everything. But, there is a certain point. The state in which the world is in is frightening. I am afraid of my oldest brother, I fear he is capable of brutal violence. He is capable of petty vengeance. I am afraid of my brain, at night. In the morning. I am afraid that my legs will give up at any moment I am walking. I am afraid that I feel like I can work, but I know I cannot work. I fear that I cannot admit to the ones I love that my pain is worse than what I let on. I am a slob, unable to contribute to those who contribute. I am the rut in the capitalism cycle. I do not talk to the people who want to talk to me. I will lose the ones who love me. I'm scared that North Dakota is the start of everything for Indigenous people when it comes to pipeline battles. It is not a battle we will win. But, they/we can try. I fear that the leader of the free world is capable of stupidity that we cannot fathom.<br />
.<br />
I fear me and everything that comes with the word. The responsibility and the person.<br />
<br />
I will never live up to anyone's expectations. For once, I do not have expectations on myself. And that is fucking beautiful.<br />
<br />
<br />Rikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6676266168244761817.post-28828909873937925302016-07-14T12:39:00.001-06:002016-07-14T12:39:41.681-06:00Assessing everything to do with the politics that is "all lives matter"Fascinating at a glance. Piercing. The fact that all lives matter is said in today's age is baffling.<br />
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So, let's hit rewind<br />
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A few years back some white people dressed in blue clothing decided they did not like the way people who had different coloured skin were acting in front of them. So, they decided to shoot them. Social media and major cities had created the movement black lives matter to empower black youth as a way to say do not become a statistic. Which is flooring and exactly what they should do. They should hold peaceful protests. They should hold public inquiries. They should ask for videos of incidents be put on the public record. They should make these cops who have failed as human beings be put on blast.You only get one chance on this Earth. You should really make it count. Shooting first should never be the answer.<br />
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Fast forward to a week ago. Well, some white people in blue clothing did not like the way some people with different coloured skin were acting. So they shot them, execution style, in broad daylight and this time with ample video coverage to go with it. I have questioned from the beginning if it was two black youth holding down a white man and shooting him execution style, what would this debate be like. The south would be frying him on the six o' clock news. Yet, because it was two white police officers holding down a black male who was not resisting or posing a threat or reaching for a gun. They held him down and shot him four fucking times. In cold blood.<br />
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So, now to all lives matter and your right wing agenda. Yes, all lives matter, at first glance, to you. But, to the rest of us. Only white lives matter for you. Aboriginal lives do not matter. Black lives do not matter. Latino Lives do not matter. Muslim Lives do not matter. Asian Lives do not matter. So on and so forth. Unfortunately, when you say all lives matter, it means nothing. It actually angers the majority of people that reads it. It does not matter to you. You say it so you can stay in your cocoon where nothing happens. Your cocoon of the white picket fence, your pinterest recipes, your 3 dogs and your kids that aren't potty trained til 5 or breast fed until 32.<br />
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These same people who say all lives matter always say the same thing. "I hope a cop is not feeling too down or lazy or however you describe on that day you will need them". Look. In the 21 years of my life. I have bought 5 meals for cops and roughly 10 cups of coffees for them. I say hi, thanks. Hold open doors. I want to believe that there is some good left in people. That underneath that blue. There is a person who sees that I am human, they are human. There has to be one. I'm a cynical asshole everywhere in life. But, I guess I'm stubborn when it comes to that.<br />
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So, conservative right wing republican asshats. Please stop saying all lives matter.<br />
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Best Regards,<br />
<br />
Devon<br />
<br />
<br />Rikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6676266168244761817.post-32688393609448501232016-03-07T17:30:00.001-07:002016-03-07T17:30:30.617-07:00LoveYou are everything I am. Everything I want to be.<br />
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Unfortunately, I am afraid to reach my own potential. Too afraid to be comfortable. I remember the first time we kissed. The butterflies, the endorphin release and the love that I felt down to my core. Through will, patience and determination I had won your heart. A prize that is priceless to be. To be the keeper of your heart and love is more than I can handle most days. Some days it is the only thing that reaches out to me to grab onto.<br />
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I'm alive today because of your heart. You have the biggest heart I've seen. A person who has a storied past and an understanding of what brought you to where you are today. I do not write many love letters anymore. That's my fault. I apologize. There is not enough words in the English language. Jeg Elskar Deg. The first words you spoke to me that truly hit me. It was you sharing a piece of your culture with me. When I'm afraid to show my culture to the world. I truly felt comfortable in that moment. I still get lost in that moment. You've supported me through questionable things, honest things and my decisions (though I may not think them through). Without that, I would not have motivation. I would not know what I am capable of.<br />
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I'm afraid of failure. My biggest fear is failing you. I'm probably never going to be who you want. I can accept that. I am trying to be better. To be a better husband, friend and confidant. I'm ingrained not to. I'm an introvert because of my past. I'm an introvert because of the people I once called friends. I want to be that guy you want.<br />
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Know I have, will and will continue to follow you and your heart. I will never let go.<br />
<br />
Promise.Rikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6676266168244761817.post-24622909028616808782016-01-27T19:22:00.001-07:002016-01-27T19:22:37.748-07:00A Retelling... and the years following.Today is January 27, 2016. Bell Let's Talk.<br />
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It is a bittersweet day. It is a day that means more to me than (on most days) life itself.<br />
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Today I am here, I probably should not be. Most days I feel I should not be.<br />
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February 2012 was an awful time. The worst month I would experience for another 13 months until it was eclipsed by the death of my grandfather.<br />
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I woke up. Angry at those around me. Those in my life. The most lost I have ever been in my life. I hope.<br />
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I woke up. I didn't feel like it.<br />
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I woke up. One way or another.<br />
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I wanted a way out. It became the only thought. My only motivation that day.<br />
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I had ideas of how I wanted out. What I would leave behind. What my last acts would be.<br />
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Slowly playing out how I would end my life. Decisively. Who I would tell. At the time, was with my first and only girlfriend to date. I did not care. I felt she would heal in some way.<br />
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I woke up that day thinking it was the last day for the rest of my life. 21 years young and in pain. approaching my job with the apathy of a cat. I was going to commit the most selfish and most selfless act you could commit. The ultimate of my life.<br />
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I had planned out a couple of ways I was going out. I did not want to talk. I was scared that my family would think it was their fault. I could not talk to them. I didn't know how to start. I had been given everything (within reason) that I could ever want. I was told I was worth it, complimented, told I was smart.<br />
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I reached an apex. I was either going to end it that night or I could fight for my life.<br />
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Which brings you hear. That night I had decided to write a blog instead of ending it. It's been 4 years. I am still depressed, hopeless, anxious and often alone. I am married, loved, on some days happy and generally content.<br />
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I write every time I get depressed. It is a stress relief. Sometimes it is the only thing that soothes me. I would never criticize someone's depression unless they play it out for sympathy.<br />
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Funny thing when you reach that apex. You are never going back to it, one way or another. I put some value on my life. Not my own value. Rather I valued it in perspective of those who love me. I could not imagine how they would feel in my mind and that is what drove me to find a different way to relieve my depression. I could not cope with the thought of coping. That's why I did not do it.<br />
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It is January 27th, 2016. I am writing this for those who cannot put into words or are scared just like I was. Almost everyone in life suffers from some form of depression at some time or another.<br />
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It is January 27th 2016. I am writing this for me. for you. for the millions of faceless people who find an identity at least once a year.<br />
<br />
Be you. Be the weird person you want to be. Be the person you thought you could be. Stay true to who you are. Talk to people, regardless if you are introvert. Be true to yourself.<br />
<br />
#BellLetsTalk<br />
<br />
Best Regards,<br />
<br />
Devon.Rikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6676266168244761817.post-46579759823996353592016-01-13T17:02:00.000-07:002016-01-13T17:02:12.994-07:00afraid...I'm afraid...<br />
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It is not the reasons that usually eat people up, anxiety, depression or some big event.<br />
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Often times I just do not want to wake up.<br />
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As dreary as that sounds, it is true. I don't know what kind of pain i'll be in or what will happen.<br />
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What I do know is that I will have to be up during the day. The ironic thing about depression and anxiety. You do not pick when it effects you the most. Mine hits me hardest during the day. I'm alone. I'm afraid. I cannot find an escape.<br />
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I am afraid....<br />
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One day I might be more confident and who you want me to be.<br />
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Instead I'll sit here and dream of better days that I have not had. I will lay here and debate all the conversations I've never had. I'll overthink the words I have never said. The actions I chose to ignore.<br />
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Mostly, I'll dwell on my shortcomings, my lack of future and who I am now. Not the person I was 8 years ago.<br />
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I am afraid....<br />
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I'm well. I'm a moderately healthy 24 year old with questionable motor functions and muscle tightness.<br />
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It is beginning to define me, everyday I wake up.<br />
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It defines me to all those around me. It crushes me that it defines me in any sense. It makes me irrationally angry that at my age I've only had one or two happy memories.<br />
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I'm afraid that I am on empty, looking to escape the monotony of 24 hours of confinement to my own mind.<br />
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I'm afraid of who I am, who I will become and what I will become.<br />
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I'm afraid I cannot make you happy.<br />
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I'm afraid I cannot make me happy.<br />
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I'm Afraid....<br />
<br />
I'm Afraid....Rikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6676266168244761817.post-91923396076436970912016-01-04T16:44:00.003-07:002016-01-04T16:44:55.498-07:00Hello Darkness.I'm in the dark.<br />
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I don't see much light. I can feel some. I can move. I can pretend to see.<br />
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Right now, everything is gloomy. I'm unaware of what is going to break first. My body and my mind.<br />
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Learning I could've been living with some sort of Palsy (Which could've been treatable) to prevent pain. I am mad.<br />
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I am unsure how I've went my whole life. 22 surgeries, countless doctors, surgeons and medical professionals. Testing everything from my reflexes, my voice, my ears and my speech. Through test after test. Not one was a scan of my brain and the way it works. I know the way it works in a dark world. I have cousins and friends who reach out. I cannot go, it really is not at fault of me not wanting to. I can't. I cannot deal with the pain and anxiety of my situation. My wife tries to get me out of the house. I fail her at every chance.<br />
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I am slightly concerned of my future. All being stalled by a surgery that is never going to happen. A metaphorical look into my own life and what to look forward to. Nothing to help, nothing to please, and nothing to make me feel any more human.<br />
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My brother chose to hold out talking to me for 3 months. That hurt more than probably anything in my life. He's been my motivating factor for life. For almost anything I do. I try to give him some hope that I might be better than what I am.<br />
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I am better than what I was dealt. I am a pussy for relying on the crutch of pain. I am a pussy for relying on my depression to excuse my introversion.<br />
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I'm not sure what I was meant for. I'm opinionated, smart, and reckless. I am aboriginal, political and cynical. I am a man with so many identities and so little to show for myself.<br />
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2015 was a rough year. It did not teach me nothing. except where I stand within my family.<br />
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Bonne soiree,<br />
<br />
I'm fine.<br />
<br />
Devon.Rikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6676266168244761817.post-19895805537625789652015-12-11T09:08:00.000-07:002015-12-11T09:08:16.918-07:00Painfully numbVisiting doctors, diagnosticians and professionals. I've come to learn that my pain is almost not recognized. What I say is helping me is ignored. the carousel of medications that have the same effect as writing "prayers" on someones status. I'm not sure what the end goal is. I'm not liking the journey. It has crushed self-esteem and morale trying to battle through. To be told you might have something that shouldve been diagnosed at birth hurts.<br />
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I take medication, when I am directed. Pain is there. Medication is basically bitch slapped by the pain. I feel like my doctor's believe at that my age. I am not worthy of being "given up on" so to speak. By that I mean, they won't put me on painkillers with heavy attacks on the pain I feel. At 24 they feel like I should not be on narcotics. The truth is, it is what I should be on. It allows me to function. To not be in pain just sitting down. Learning that ultimately my spastic legs have many causes. Much of which are incurable and fatal. As is everything else,<br />
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Ironically I do not care what the dignosis is. they'll still run the carousel. I'll stay up all night depressed hoping for a doctor to give up on me.<br />
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I'm not looking for something to numb the physical. I need something to numb me... period.<br />
<br />Rikidushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16663311331412662433noreply@blogger.com0