No, They Don't Want A Parade.

Speaking for every active duty service man and woman, I can tell you one thing for certain. They do NOT want a military parade.

How do I know this? Because I know what that kind of public display means in terms of work, and I know that no soldier, sailor, airman or Marine wants to do it.

Think about it. A parade means that all those involved need to prepare a dress uniform, clean and prepare any gear or hardware required, and then march for miles in formation. What about that sounds relaxing?

There will be other discussions about why publicly flexing our military muscle will more likely make us look like a banana republic. People are already saying things like that. And no surprise, I agree. It's just dumb. And expensive. And wasteful.

But my small but specific point here is that a parade only means more work for our military men and women. If we truly want to salute our military, raise their pay. Short of something significant like that, just give them a 96-hour liberty pass and say, "thanks for what you do to keep us safe."

So, Where's John Been?

I've been at work, mostly, and not feeling at all creative. I haven't written anything in months, and the weight of that is like a stone around my neck.

Writing. It's how people get through tough times. And I think I have allowed myself all the "hide out from the world" time that I need. Now, it's time to turn my attention back to my creative self.

It's time to write again.

It's Okay To Talk About It.

This. Read this.

It happens just like this.

Thoughts, seemingly out of nowhere, that reach into the dark places and try to manifest the very worst of me.

I ask you, no, I beg of you, please read this linked article. The author so eloquently explains what happens when logical thoughts become irrational. What seems unthinkable – killing oneself – suddenly and without warning seems like the right thing to do.

It’s exhausting, living like this. Medication and therapy help, but they aren’t a cure-all. There are always moments of doubt, of criticism, of flat-out failure. And those are the times when people like me are most at risk of harming ourselves.

For me, and for many others that I know, it’s not about wanting to die. It’s about wanting whatever negative feeling is happening in the moment to just stop. And death appears as a solution to all the troubles on my shoulder.

To be clear, I am fully aware of the risk I face. So I work hard to inoculate myself against such feelings. They are inevitable, but drastic consequences to them are not. I have done everything I can think of to protect myself.

I am honest with myself about my own feelings. I am honest with others, letting them know when I feel myself drawn to the darkness. I surround myself with good, strong people who remind me daily that I matter to them.

In other words, I have tried to proactively protect myself against thoughts of suicide. And so far, I’ve been successful. But part of me fears that it will only be a matter of time until the dark feelings prove to be too much for me.

Think that’s scary to read? Imagine being me and writing those words. They terrify me. And they should.

I will continue to reach out for help. I will continue to work with my therapist and my psychiatrist to find the right medications. And I will continue to write and share my struggle openly. Because I don’t want to be just another statistic, someone with so many reasons to live who just gave up.
I’m alive. And I plan to stay that way.

And if any of this rings true for you, talk to me. Talk to someone else. Talk to a counselor or a therapist or a hotline. Raise your hand and say, “I need help!”

Because you matter. You are loved. And we need you to stay.

Thinking Out Loud

The more the world challenges us with nonsense and angst, the greater our responsibility to respond with control and reason.

Daily Dose Of Good, or, "When Giving Up Isn't Giving Up"

I haven't written anything recently. Or more specifically, I haven't written anything and posted it here at this blog. I've been writing, but I'm concerned with the dark tone of all of my words.

I don't know what's happening with me, exactly. I seem to be caught somewhere between disappointed and disgusted, and I presume that's all a response to what is happening in this country right now.

People aren't talking. We're yelling. We're assuming. We're insulting and ridiculing and attacking. But we aren't talking.

Perhaps this is when writers are needed most, to help bridge the gap between warring factions. Or maybe that's just me being presumptuous and arrogant, acting as if should someone be able to calm the seas that have been raging for generations.

At any rate, I am not feeling comfortable sharing most of what I have been writing recently. Its tone is too dark and, frankly, too pessimistic. And since that isn't how I like to think of myself, I've been working on a counterbalance to that.

Introducing Daily Dose Of Good. It's my way of forcing myself to start the day with a positive thought and a better outlook.

Each day, I share something like these:

It may not seem like much, but at least for a moment, I am thinking of something positive and upbeat. And that may be just enough to keep the darkness at bay.

I'm not sharing my writing, and that can be seen as giving up and giving in to the bad. But I'm sharing these daily posts, so I'm going to look at these as my way not not actually giving up on this world or myself.

I hope you enjoy them and that they bring you a bit of light, too.

This Is What's Wrong With You.

Nothing.

Nothing is wrong with you. And what would make you click on something like this, anyway? Why would you think some random negative words on the internet apply to you?

None of us is perfect, true. And we each have character and personality traits that others may not like. But that doesn't mean there is anything wrong with any of us. We're just different.

I know, I know. This sounds so touchy-feely, "we're all special," blah blah blah.

But what if I'm right? What if we ARE each special? And what if the biggest thing wrong with us is our belief that we're not okay just as we are?

My Call-To-Action today:
Take a few moments to think about what is right with me, with my life, and with my circle of friends. Spend time celebrating what is amazing instead of looking for reasons to criticize and attack.

Feel free to join me. I mean, we can all use a little more positive in our day, right?

And So I Write.

I make choices.

Feels weird to admit that, given my tendency to act as if things just happen to me.

But it's true. So much of what happens to me is based on the choices I make.

I don't sleep. That's not a choice. But I decide what to do during those long, sleepless hours.

I could drink myself into a stupor, substitute "passed out" for "couldn't sleep." But I don't. That's a dark path that scares me more than being awake.

I could sit and stare at the television. But I don't. I am losing my fondness for that sort of pleasure. I think it's because I can no longer sit comfortably. I fidget. I'm antsy and restless. So I don't sit passively and watch the television.

Instead, I write.

I blog about what is happening with my own sanity. (Or lack thereof, I suppose.)

I write lyrics to songs that will never be sung nor heard.

I write poetry, most of which passes from this world with a well-practiced backspace key.

But I write. Because putting words onto a screen makes me feel like these hours are not wasted. If I can't find peace in a dream, let me at least find comfort in finding my voice.

The Power of Words

An Open Letter To People Writing Open Letters

They're out there. Open Letters. Directed at everyone from frazzled mothers to weary police officers to loathsome subway manspreaders. And each of the writers of these letters needs to hear one thing loudly and clearly:

Thank you.

Yes, I said "thank you." And I mean it. 

In the hustle and bustle of the everyday world, most of us are too busy to keep up with every current event and worthy cause. It's not that we don't care, we just don't have the time. 

That's why these Open Letters are important. For reasons only they may know, someone took the time to put pen to paper (ok, more like fingers to keyboard) and speak so passionately and eloquently about an issue that the rest of us took notice. 

We wept with the father whose daughter was killed by a drunk driver. We brushed back happy tears when the kind passenger on the plane helped a frazzled mother. And we laughed and sympathized with the not-at-all crafty teacher who had to admit defeat at the hands of Pinterest.

Not all of these Open Letters accomplish what the authors hope. Some are so clueless, so tone deaf, that they actually undermine and sabotage those they intended to support.

No matter. The occasional missed shot doesn't negate the value of these public posts. Good or bad, they all help direct attention to a single subject long enough that the apathetic and/or uninformed amongst us finally learns something about it. And that's a good thing.

So, thank you, Open Letter writers. Your efforts have not gone unnoticed.

Thinking Out Loud

There's a comfort and an ease about time spent with people that you trust completely. Words flow, spirits soar, and hearts are healed.

I can't say it more plainly than that. I'm truly grateful to have these people in my life. 

My First Write-cation

It's currently January 18th, 2016, and this is the first blog entry I've posted this year. Honestly, it's poor form to consider myself a writer when I'm not writing. So it's time to do something about that.

I have planned a Write-cation for myself. It's an extended trip that is the right balance between time alone, sightseeing, new adventures, and reunions with long-time friends.

*edit*
I started writing out the details of my planned trip, but I opted to delete that. I think I'll wait and share the details as the trip unfolds.

I will say this: I will be gone eleven days, visit ten different states, (hopefully) catch up with seven different friends, utilize at least six modes of transportation, and write thousands of words.

That's the plan. I leave this Thursday, Jan 21st, and you're invited to follow along through the blog or Instagram.

It's time to travel and write and reconnect.

Aaaaand, go!





(Image credit.)

Thinking Out Loud...

"There are more good people out there than bad" is the lie I keep telling myself so I won't just give up on humanity completely.

It's Not You, Facebook. It's Me.

For the last ten days, I've been (mostly) logged off of Facebook. I have checked back in a few times, read a post or two, felt instant anger or disgust, and quickly logged back off.

EDIT:
I have written and rewritten the next paragraph half a dozen times, but it always comes out wrong. So I'm going to go with short and sweet, instead.

I'm out. I've had more than enough of the nonsense. Being on Facebook doesn't make me a better person, so I'm choosing to walk away while I still feel like myself.

From now on, the only place I'll be posting anything on Facebook is on my Runner12 page. I'll stick to sharing updates on my fitness journey.

Over the next month or so, I'll make the time to unfriend everyone and lock down my privacy settings. I can't deactivate my account, since it is required to host the Runner12 page. And I'm still active in a few secret/private groups that matter to me. But I won't be posting on Facebook, updating the wall, or checking in on the newsfeed.

Instead, I'll continue to share photos (and enjoy those of others) here on Instagram. And I'll post worthwhile links here on Twitter.

But Facebook? Nope. We're done.

Thinking Out Loud...

Veterans defend our freedom of the press, but what good does that do if we all ignore our own responsibility to be aware, informed, and educated?

We know more about red cups than we do about death threats against students at Mizzou. We know more about a drug addicted athlete than we do about combat veterans and TBIs. And we know more about "real housewives" than we do about homeless children.

Our Veterans serve to secure and defend our rights. Let's make an effort to exercise those rights in a way that honors that service.

Thinking Out Loud...

What if you write something so personal, so honest, that you don't dare let anyone read it?

I Believe...

Good people will find each other, given time and technology. Enjoy it when they do.

What If Today...

What if today, when you think about someone in your life that is kind and caring, you reached out to say, "I appreciate the person you are"?

What If Today...

What if today you spent less time worrying about yesterday or planning for tomorrow and more time experiencing life here and now?

What If Today...

What if today you forgive yourself for something you did in the past? What if you make amends if possible, vow to do better, and let it go?

What If Today...

What if today, when you thought about something kind, you just said or did it?