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Feb 16

a light came on

As I kneel down to say my evening prayers, a smile begins to form on my face. There is an excitement in my voice as I speak to God. I feel alive. I’ve won the battle of the day that has passed, and I am filled with gratitude for the progress that I’ve been able to make throughout. I thank the Lord for standing by me and carrying me through the adversity that I faced when I awoke earlier that morning. And I also thank Him for allowing me to create something positive out of the remainder of my day. Thanks to my faith, I have not quit. And judging by the way that I feel now, I recognize that there is a true purpose to this suffering that I’ve been asked to endure. I am meant to overcome all that holds me back. I am meant to grow stronger as time passes. Perhaps this is the moment when I will truly turn the corner? Tomorrow will be even better. I can feel it. No turning back now.

Shortly after I open my eyes the next morning, I head to the bathroom to brush my teeth and start my day. Wow, I really don’t feel well…where has this come from? I feel a heavy weight pressing against the top half of my chest and as I swallow, I’m made aware of that horrible, pestering lump in my throat. My analytical and anxious mind stands at attention and questions begin to ring out in my head. Why is this happening again? I was so much better last night…all I did was fall asleep…how am I finding myself in this position again? If I was turning the corner last night, I must have just decided to make a full circle back around the block. Deflated, I wonder if progress is perhaps just a dream. Every time that I begin to feel that I am on my way, I’m quickly reminded of the tremendous battle that lies ahead. God is trying to tell me something, but what?

It just seems unfair to me that I am still going through such relentless turmoil. I’m quickly approaching my one year anniversary with this setback, and I can’t seem to understand what it is that I am doing wrong? I remind myself that the Lord is never far, and that everything has a purpose, even pain. And I quickly conclude that there must still be work that needs to be done. There’s more that I need to understand about myself, there are things that I need to address within me before I can be made complete. I take a deep breath and work to regain my faith. Stop being a victim, Matt. Look inside and ask God for the wisdom to uncover what haunts you. Journey to the core of your being…there you will find the answers.

Blamelessly reflecting on the past, I begin to dive deep into the memories of the most troubled times of my life. I remember how I felt as things fell apart in each experience as it unfolded. I recall the mental anguish that I put myself through when I arrived in California during the summer 2001, hoping to chase down my dream of someday playing college football at an elite level. I remember how I had allowed my own self destructive mind drive me to complete frustration with myself, and how it ultimately encouraged me to walk away from the game that I loved. I recall nights alone when anxiety first presented itself in my life and, replaying the horrors that I suffered through, I discover what truly terrified me the most about my plight. Looking back on failed relationships, of which I had many, I uncover what motivated me to seek out such volatile companionship, and I begin to recognize why I ultimately was unable to hold onto love, and why, perhaps I drove those partners away. Within the dark memories of my addiction, I find the vulnerabilities of my mind and am able to see what it was inside that was driving me to make such destructive choices with my finances and my future. Things are beginning to make a whole lot of sense to me. Each moment of personal struggle appears to have embodied the same set of commonalities. There’s a pattern in place. I should not be surprised by where it has led me.

This is a hard thing for most people who face hardship to understand. No one wants to believe that they are fully responsible for the misery of their existence. I admit that it’s a tough pill to swallow. It’s very easy to be motivated to seek answers outside of ourselves. Prescription drug ads remind us every day that we are ill and that there is no better label for us than “victim”. We are taught to feel helpless rather than empowered. And so we ask questions like “what did I do to deserve this?” Well, honestly most of us didn’t knowingly do anything. But as we become more self-aware we can understand that far beneath the surface of our skin, deep in the heart of our being and entrenched within our minds we embody the qualities which make us magnets for anxiety, depression, OCD, addiction, etc. Although it’s not our conscious choosing, we often invite those things in. And they work fast to team up with our most limiting, deep rooted fears, forming a partnership to slowly take over and destroy our lives.

It starts out slow however, as time passes, periods of extended hardship continue to set up residence and become more and more familiar to us, until each day begins to feel like a struggle to survive. But we have escaped and have rebounded before, why not now? Sure, it may have only lasted a couple years, or a few months…perhaps it only lasted a week…but it was something. At least we were able to embrace the opportunity to breathe again and temporarily regain a bit of normalcy in our lives, even if we’d lose it soon regardless. But what is happening now? This feels different. There might not be any coming back from this…

This is the place where I found myself repeatedly on mornings following a day of progress. Just eight hours earlier, I had drifted off to sleep feeling that perhaps I had turned a corner, only to face the harsh reality in the morning that I was right back where I had begun. It was an extremely humbling experience, but it developed tremendous perseverance. When you begin to understand that God has a purpose for everything taking place in your life, you are able to accept the fact that even extended periods of hardship have meaning. You learn to embrace those times as a gift, because to your life they are just a valuable as years of peace and tranquility…that is, if you choose to listen and accept them as such. But to find the meaning in suffering, it takes unwavering trust and more than anything, patience. And in times of desperation, those things can be hard to sustain.

Too often when we pray we expect God to present His answers to us immediately. We forget that He works in His time, not ours. Day after day, we continue to press on, struggling to get by and hoping that some night soon He will deliver to us the miracle that will set us free. And perhaps He will. But maybe God is asking us to play more of an active role in the creation of this miracle? Perhaps that is the purpose behind the extended period of suffering that we’ve been asked to endure. Did you ever think that maybe by not granting the quick fix, God is actually showing his faith in YOU? Perhaps He is attempting to reveal to you yourself, in an effort to help you uncover the strength within to allow you to overcome your present turmoil? After all, you are still here, and the Lord does not give us life to suffer, but rather to excel and live freely, glorifying his name…there is a purpose to your existence, and He wants to reveal it to you. There is still hope…He has not abandoned you, and He never will.

I quickly learned that God did not intend for me to find a quick fix solution to my problems…not this time. He wanted more for me than that. Remember the days when a Band-Aid and a kiss from Mom would fix everything? Not anymore. I’m no longer a child, and so I don’t heal as one. We are adults, and as we mature, so does our healing process. Our wounds cut deeper and take patience and care to repair. But with that patience and a committed relationship with God, we are able to uncover deep meaning in the pain that those wounds leave behind. Called to the stand, we are forced to look within ourselves for answers, and as we do we reveal countless opportunities for growth and change. Suddenly, the solution is crystal clear. The bottom is not the end…this won’t last forever. This is just our beginning.

By trusting in my faith and relying on the Lord to deliver me the answers in His time, I was able to reveal to myself the issues at the core of my being that have been responsible for leading me to further problems with anxiety, OCD, depression, and addiction. It was as if a light came on. There are three characteristics that I am able to now clearly identify: a lack of patience, a need for control, and an inability to trust in others and in myself. And now, understanding all that I do about myself, God’s plan for me makes perfect sense. Because this experience has been the ultimate test of patience and perseverance. And it’s invited me to place unwavering trust in a power that is greater than me and let go of my own need for control. I’ve even reclaimed trust in myself as I’ve taken the first steps forward in an effort to win back my life. I can honestly say that I would have never learned these things about myself without this incredible experience. And even if someone were to point them out to me as the underlying issues time and time again, I would have never understood what it took to overcome them. So I am forever thankful that He chose to intervene when He did. And now that I have identified the sparks that fuel the fire, I can effectively target and extinguish any adversity or complex mental health issues attempting to stand in my way. This journey has been a tremendous test, but it’s all been part of His plan to set me free, and I feel truly blessed to have been so fortunate to go through it.

Today as I began to jot down some notes for this blog, I found myself feeling a bit uncertain about how I would gather my thoughts and convey the message that I had envisioned to my readers. I wasn’t sure how I was going to present things, but something told me that I needed to find a way to put it all out there. It’s amazing, but lately I’ve just felt divinely inspired to bring certain things to light, and so when I’m hit with an idea for a topic I just listen to my gut and start typing, and within a couple of hours it presents itself as my latest blog. Writing is a very therapeutic experience for me, because as I do it I gain clarity and I continue to heal. With each new area that I address, I cleanse myself of the lingering troubles that remain in that area of my recovery. Today, the most challenging hurdle that exists is continued patience. So what better way to move forward than to write about it!

Write about what plagues you, Matt, and in doing so, you will continue to heal yourself and everything around you. Sounded fair enough to me. With that goal in mind, I finished a quick note in my journal and moved from the sofa towards the kitchen for some water…and as I passed the bedroom door, I noticed that a light had gone on inside! The touch lamp on my dresser next to the bed turned on, flickered, and has continued to stay on and shine bright since. This has occurred a couple of times before, but I had always thought that it was due to heat from the television, the vents, or from me…but today, that room was empty, the TV was off, and no heat was running in my place other than the gas fireplace in the living room.

Wow…I can’t help but think that someone upstairs was listening. God truly did turn on a light for me…he stood by me with patience and revealed me to myself, helping me to find the answers within through my relationship with Him. And today, He confirmed for me the purpose of my writing…this is indeed how I’m meant to heal. This is the purpose in the suffering. This is my new beginning.

Feb 12

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if these walls could talk

Although it’s been nearly two and a half years since I moved out of my house and into my apartment, the walls of my latest residence continue to remain quite bare.  It’s almost as if I never truly found myself settled here.  And to a certain degree, I believe that to be very accurate.  This wasn’t meant to be a long term stay, but due to the unsettling nature of my life, it’s become more than just a stop along the way…it’s become my home.  Those bare walls may appear lifeless, but if they had a means to speak, wow, could they tell stories.  They’ve served witness to addiction, depression, anxiety, heartache, despair, torment, and regret.  Those walls have seen a man of nearly thirty years shatter before them, and they’ve witnessed the Lord’s helping hand ease him back to life.  They never ran nor turned their back on the story unfolding; they stood firm.  Ignored by the selfish act inhabiting them, they remained bare and neglected but all the while patient.  Stable and strong, they provided comfort to an otherwise frail and depleted existence.

I’ve always been a person who has searched for meaning in nearly everything.  So I wasn’t the type to run to Pier 1 or Target and buy a bunch of generic artwork for the sake of filling the space.  If I was going to surround myself with photographs or paintings, they would need to speak to me.  They’d need to move me, inspire me, make me think, make me feel…they’d need to connect with my innermost desires; with my soul.  And those bare walls appear today as being very symbolic to me.  While living in this apartment, I spent the majority of my two years feeling somewhat empty inside and disconnected from my true self.  The earthly desires of my own self destructive personality were not inspiring wall-worthy material.  I would have been embarrassed or ashamed to reveal what motivated me during those times, so I left the canvas blank.  There was however, a soul inside that was full of life and imagination…one that appreciated all of the simple beauties and blessings of life.  But I hadn’t yet truly connected with it.  I never really made the effort.  And therefore, I remained feeling very empty inside…lifeless, or so it appeared.

During this past fall, I began engaging in a lot of positive thinking exercises.  There was a lot of value in this, because several of the methods helped me to begin to retrain my mind.  I worked on ways to express gratitude for even the simplest things and that helped me to overcome the obsessive negativity that had been waging war on my psyche.  I also used a variety of techniques to encourage the formation and stability of my own personal goals within my mind.  From the movie The Secret, I discovered the concept of a vision board.  A vision board is a unique, self-developed visual representation of your desires, dreams, goals, etc.  Flipping through magazine after magazine, I spent several evenings cutting out photos and phrases, creating two of my very own boards.  For weeks I kept the boards with me in my office, and then one evening I decided that I wanted to be able to see them at the start and finish of my day, so I moved them to the bedroom.

I nailed the boards to the wall directly to the right of my bed, so that when I would wake in the morning or retire in the evening, they would be the first thing that I would see.  The images on those boards were meant to inspire.  I studied them until they became permanently etched into my mind.  I had created the boards at a time when even a walk to the mailbox often appeared nearly unbearable due to anxiety.  I was in desperate need of hope.  And they truly served as an escape for me…a reminder that someday I would indeed persevere and see the light at the end of the tunnel.  Someday the darkness would vanish, and those visions would become my reality.  In time, I would live my dreams.

But it was going to take something more than those boards to lead me to the attainment of all that I had envisioned.  I needed to continue to call on a higher power.  I wasn’t going to be able to do this alone.  I needed a miracle in order to find my direction, to heal, and to move forward.  And as I engaged in a deeper and more meaningful relationship with God, it’s amazing what was revealed to me.  I bought in wholeheartedly, and trusted that where there was faith and a will, there was a way.  Looking back on the experience now, I am left speechless by the memories of what took place in the following months…

As a result of this blog and the social network, a lot of people will share their own unique stories with me and often will ask what it takes to overcome similar battles of personal struggle and hardship.  This is always a difficult question for me to answer.  I’m certainly not qualified to be proposing a wholesale solution.  I understand that what works for me may not work for everyone, and so I only hope to share my story to provide comfort and perhaps inspire others to continue to fight and believe in their ability to stand tall in the face of adversity.  I’m always happy to listen, share some encouraging words and really just be an outlet and a friend.  And more than anything, I’m happy to share my prayers and faith with them, because there is NOTHING more powerful.  So while I may not have all the answers, one thing I do know is this…if you are going to get to the heart of your own personal crisis you’re going to need to begin by solidifying your faith.  That’s where it all starts.

As many of you already know, by the summer of 2011 my anxiety was truly beginning to destroy what remained of my well-being.  Although I had done a pretty good job over the years of accepting my disorder, I was still far too often painting myself as a victim.  It was easier to justify an advanced bout with anxiety by examining the contributing external factors and placing the blame elsewhere.  “I didn’t want to be this way…it was just job stress, a failed relationship, financial worries, etc.  Just imagine if those circumstances hadn’t developed…I’d be so much better off…right??”  Wrong.  Maybe momentarily, but not long term.  In order to heal beyond “today” you need to get the bottom of the issue that lies inside…not outside.  Because those outside factors, they are just a trigger that YOU choose to react to, and if you make one false step, you can ignite that existing fire almost instantaneously…unless, that is, you heal what’s within.

If you’ve been following the blog, you’ll recall that I felt directly called to action by God to start the wheels of change in motion in my life (“the awakening, 8/15/11).  I knew that it was time for me to listen, and I was divinely inspired to take responsibility for my life and my own personal well-being.  I began to understand that my reality was a by-product of the decisions that I had made over the years.  I chose that bad relationship, I invited financial trouble with my addiction, I created the stress that I encountered in my job, I pushed people away…I was the one constant, everywhere, at any point of my life.  How can you deny what’s always there?  Clearly, I was the problem.  I became tremendously repentant.  But I felt great inside…it was like discovering the key to happiness.  I couldn’t wait to get moving.

And so the following day, I began writing this blog. And I did it with a clear purpose in mind by which the Lord had inspired me.  I decided on 100 percent honest disclosure.  That was just how it would have to be.  I felt that in order to heal and seek my own forgiveness, there was no other way…it was definitely a calling of sorts.  And while it wasn’t always easy, I believed wholeheartedly in that moment when God took hold of me and encouraged me to take action.  I trusted that if I did right by Him, everything else would fall into place in time.  The Lord would not punish honesty; he would find it to be a noble venture.  And I owed that to him.  So I tackled my past head on, taking responsibility for my part in broken relationships, in heartache, in despair, and in ups and downs all along the travels of the winding road of my life.  I opened up about an anxiety and panic disorder, OCD, depression, and a serious gambling addiction.  I made my writing public and encouraged others to share my story.  I wanted friends, family, and figures of my past to understand that I was sorry, and that while I had not yet been made perfect, I was working on it, every day.

As I continued to write, I found a lot of clarity in those past experiences.  I discovered my weaknesses and a growing list of items within that needed to be addressed.  And I got to work on them.  By cleaning my past, I was allowing my future to heal.  I was beginning to understand the type of person that I wanted to become.  I began seeking ways to be a more positive individual so that in turn I could draw better outcomes to my life.  I constructed vision boards.  I started to dream.  I made new friends…good friends…no, GREAT friends.  Kind-hearted and inspiring friends of old and new began to come into my life every day as a result of my blog.  And the acquaintances of my past that were not on track with my new found priorities, well, they faded away, and I was fine with that.  God was pulling weeds and planting healthy relationships in my life.  I trusted in His plan.

While exploring deep within my soul, my faith was absolutely critical to keeping me honest, and I turned back to my relationship with God time and time again for support.  If I began to place blame elsewhere or feel resentment for my past or even my existing circumstances, the Lord would set me back on track.  I utilized prayer repeatedly throughout the day, and when I spoke with God, I felt an obligation to be honest.  So doubts and questions about how to proceed began to disappear.  He taught me how to forgive even those who hurt me without good reason.  I just listened to Him and continued moving forward, keeping in mind all that I felt inside when we spoke alone.  I knew that nothing negative could come out of acting according to the desires of His plan for me.  And I kept doing my best to trudge ahead, praying that in time I’d find my answers through the experience.

And that’s pretty much exactly what soon took place.  At the end of November, I was tested tremendously.  I hit a bottom, and it was more devastating than anything I could have ever dreamed of experiencing.  But this pain had a purpose.  God was providing me with a sincere opportunity… He was begging me to persevere and use nothing more than my faith and trust in Him to overcome the most tragic experience of my life.  If I was able to handle this, imagine the tremendous strength that I would embody forever as a result?  I’d know that no matter where I was in my life, that I could call on a relationship that would never turn its back on me to carry me through my darkest moments.  He knew how far I had come, even if I wasn’t able to recognize it in that moment.  It was time to prove the strength of faith.

So I let go.  I gave up control altogether.  I worked my way completely off of my natural anxiety supplements.  I turned to prayer when I felt panic knocking at the door.  I put it all in His hands and prayed for the best.  And I’m pleased to say that it’s working.  Every day I am gaining strength.  And I trust that it’s only a matter of time now until I shine.  Because a weak moment can no longer drown me…I’ve got a life-jacket that will never allow me back under, and I carry it with me all the time.

My experiences along this journey to self-discovery have been nothing short of amazing.  In addition to the clarity, forgiveness, and blessings that I’ve received as a result of my new found relationship with God, I’ve also been granted a purpose, and my life has new meaning.  I never had much of an idea about what I wanted to do with my life, and now as a result of all that’s taken place, it’s become crystal clear to me.  I’ve discovered a passion for writing which I hope to someday develop into a career, and I want to continue to help people and encourage them to overcome their own setbacks in life.  I want to return the favor…I want to pay it forward.  Those things are what drive me and make me truly happy.

Tonight as I head to bed, I’ll glance to my right and take note of the various images and phrases on my vision boards.  And I’ll smile, recognizing that I’ve already begun to achieve several of the goals which seemed like far-fetched pursuits only months ago.  And then, I’ll look to my left at a new addition to another previously bare wall…a portrait of Jesus receiving comfort from one of God’s angels in the Garden of Gethsemane, and I’ll say thank you.  Because I remember the emptiness that I felt inside during those nights on my knees in the darkness of this very same room.  This was the starting point.  It was in this room that I sought God’s wisdom and strength…to take responsibility, to be honest, to act on His inspiration, to forgive, to let go, and to move forward with trust and confidence in His plan.  So it’s fitting to me that these walls are no longer empty – this is where I found my meaning, my purpose, and my will to change.  This is where I found my soul.  Wow, if only these walls could speak…what a beautiful story they would tell today.

Feb 7

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public places and open spaces

I switched on the light and headed into the bedroom. As I prepared to say my prayers, I noticed that something felt very different in this moment. The walls that surrounded me in this previously confining space…on this night, they felt to me as though they didn’t even exist. I was reminded of the touch of the cool evening air during the early part of the summer. I could almost sense the welcoming chill surrounding me. I moved towards the window and gazed outside. I truly had to remind myself that it was the early part of February. Taking a deep breath, I made another scan my surroundings. This wasn’t the same place. I knelt down and paused, and as I did so, a smile began to grace my face. Wanting to make certain that I understood what was happening, I took it all in. The black cloud that had been following me relentlessly was now beginning to fade. The weight that had burdened my chest for the past year was diminishing. I could breathe. The walls were vanishing, and I was being invited back out into the world. In an instant, I began to feel alive again. Things were finally falling into place. I became completely overwhelmed with gratitude.

I thanked the Lord repeatedly for my experiences that night. I kept shaking my head in amazement. The hardships that I had endured throughout past year had been completely worthwhile…there was nothing more powerful than this moment of peace. Even if I found it to be short lived…even if in the morning everything was different, it wouldn’t matter. This was brilliance. This was divine. And something assured me that this was only a taste of what would follow if I continued to believe in the process and trust in God’s plan for me. I recognized that I would need to take some steps on my own; in fact, I felt that I was being called to do so. Earlier that day I had completed my first run on the treadmill in nearly three months. I faced my fears, trusted my faith, and I was then rewarded for it. This was my invitation to take the opportunity to start living again. I couldn’t pass it up. I was ready, and it was time.

This opportunity was a long time in the making. I lived for months on end feeling so completely restricted by fear that I could not foresee any way out of the confining solitude surrounding me. I just continued to work on finding myself and developing my faith, and I prayed for the best. I kept reminding myself that things would come together in His time, not mine. I knew that if there wasn’t an opportunity presenting itself, then there was probably still more work that needed to be done. So I turned my focus inside. And I kept searching for answers, refining myself and my priorities in life.

I’m not here to tell you that this period of my life was by any means pleasant or enjoyable. During this time, I found my bottom. And the walls began to close in on me, quickly. My anxiety had worn me down to the point that I could barely function physically. I truly struggled to exist at times and my mind deteriorated quickly as a result. I lost confidence in myself, and that was devastating. I was tormented by negative thoughts telling me that I was dreadfully ill. I pictured myself leaving on a gurney, and I carried a phone with me everywhere in anticipation of the moment I would need to make that call. Thankfully, I believed in God’s ability to grant miracles, and so that’s what I prayed for most nights. That’s what kept me going, and it was exactly what I was going to need. Nothing else was going to save me. I was being taught the true meaning of patience and perseverance.

In the darkest moments of this battle, I began to struggle tremendously with agoraphobia. Agoraphobia is defined as “an abnormal and persistent fear of public places or open areas, especially those from which escape could be difficult or help not immediately accessible.” This is truly the most difficult and personally devastating form that my disorder has ever taken. Agoraphobia was not completely unfamiliar to me. There were moments in California during my first bout with anxiety when I felt its effects in a pretty dramatic way. But the things that I encountered this fall went well beyond those experiences. I was dealing with something pretty extreme in nature.

Agoraphobia doesn’t happen overnight. Let me give you a bit of an idea as to how some of this unfolds. For me, it becomes an issue following a long, chronic period of intense anxiety. When your nerves are under such tremendous stress, it takes very little to startle them and throw your body into a full blown panic. It could be as simple as a car pulling out in front of you, a line at the grocery store, or a dramatic reaction from someone around you that heightens your own emotions. Imagine a guitar string pulled nice and tight…the slightest pluck of that string can produce a sound that lights up a room. That’s how it is for someone with chronic anxiety whose nerves have been sensitized.

The body’s reaction becomes so intensified, that for even people like me who have a familiarity with panic, each occurrence feels more devastating than ever before. Each time that you encounter it, you feel wholeheartedly that “this could be it.” You picture yourself on the way to the hospital. You think that perhaps you are losing your mind and you fear that you’ll need to be institutionalized. And then, you do what your body implores…you run. You flee the situation and, shaking with panic, you head back to your comfort zone where you can survive the attack. And then, your subconscious begins to decide for you that it might be best for you to never leave again…

And so this is how it starts. Have a bad experience at the grocery store once, and each time you decide that you need to visit there in the future, your mind recalls that memory and says “no, no, you stay put, you know exactly what could happen there.” Trips to even similar places quickly fall victim to those memories as well. You begin to think “what if what happened to me at the grocery store happens to me here?” And so the list continues to grow. Confined spaces are truly a problem. Take for instance the car or an airplane. Neither is easily escaped when panic ensues. So you begin to avoid travel. One by one, you blacklist everything that had previously been a part of your daily life, until you are left with only the walls that surround you – the comfort zone. And in time, even those walls close in on you. And you’re left in a very sad and lonely place. You begin to forfeit your life altogether and fear that you’ll never rebound from this experience.

These choices to avoid interaction with the outside world are devastating to your psyche. But when fully in the grips of agoraphobia, you don’t feel that you even have a say in the matter. The mental blocks become so deeply entrenched that you can’t seem to find a way around them. And so often it’s easiest just to give in and play along. It’s like being in a completely abusive relationship. You forfeit your ability to think on your own and you surrender to the evil desires of the fear which is determined to keep you handcuffed forever. Because it becomes the only way you know how to survive. And “real” life becomes very unfamiliar. All of your time is spent in isolation in one so called “comfortable” place. So when confronted with ordinary things, you become terrified. You used to love to go to lunch at that restaurant, but now the mere thought of visiting there scares you to death. Crackers become a more appetizing lunch than a good meal, because you have a pantry full of them… “see, there’s no need to leave.”

I’ve experienced the worst of this, and while it’s very humbling and revealing to speak about these experiences, I do so to provide comfort to others who feel like they are alone in this battle. I’ve stood in lines at places like WalMart with a handful of things and have quickly run to put them back and dart out of the store. I’ve avoided every place imaginable. I’ve been afraid to get in my car and drive to an ATM a couple blocks away. Last year I drove roughly 25,000 miles…this year, barely 3,000. I’ve abandoned lunch with my own mother mid-meal, multiple times, out of fear. I missed a great childhood friend’s wedding. I’ve avoided air travel and even the pew of my own church on Christmas Eve. I’ve spent Thanksgiving alone. I began shopping at Rite Aid to avoid the grocery store. I feared driving to the other side of town due to the extra time it would take for me to get back home, and started doing everything within a stone’s throw of my apartment. And my fears became so overwhelming that even the idea of doing something outside of my environment would make me physically ill.

Even my own place would soon fall victim to the fear. I began to feel panicked when I’d need to walk to the mailbox, and so for several days, I would avoid it. I’d need to speak to myself constantly to accomplish simple chores like taking the trashing down the hall or dropping the recycling in the garage. I became very fearful of the shower, because it was a very confining place for me, and I had many bad experiences there with panic. I didn’t stop bathing, but I would rush in and out, and would keep the phone on the edge of the tub, just in case my anxiety became too much for me to bear. As you all know, sleep often was an issue as well. And at my lowest, and this is disturbing for me to say, I became fearful of even walking. I was experiencing an array of devastating things physically, and so I had myself convinced that I was suffering from a debilitating and life altering disease. When I’d walk, I’d feel shaky, off-balance, and often times, in pain. So I began avoiding it due to the fear of what I might feel. I spent most of my time at my desk, on the couch, or in bed.

Now, some of you might be thinking, this guy needs some serious help. And a couple months ago you probably would have been right. Thankfully, I received that help. God is helping through this. Things are beginning to change, miraculously. But it’s taken patience, and more than anything else, trust. I’m not here to say that medication or supplements are wrong; we are all unique and have different needs. But I’ve never been medicated, and I quit all natural supplementation on January 1st, deciding to trust wholeheartedly in my faith to heal me, and since then, I’ve been doing better than ever. So I encourage you, no matter what your healing regimen, to always keep your faith as a part of the process. It’s worked wonders for me…not overnight, but in time, when I was fully prepared to accept and embrace my transformation.

I share with you my story to give you hope. To say that “I’ve been there. I can understand…I can relate.” And I hope that you can recognize that I haven’t quit. I’ve persevered. And I will get healthy. I will be stronger mentally, physically, and spiritually than I’ve ever been. That is the gift that I’m being given. For that, I would do this all over again, in a heartbeat. Embrace the times when you are tested. It will all be worth it in the end. You will find yourself…you will find your strength and your faith…and in your weakest moment, you will paint your own Picasso, and that will become your life moving forward. Remember, the BOTTOM is just the BEGINNING. May God bless.

Feb 3

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“living” hell: a look inside the anxious mind

No matter how fast I would run, I could not seem to find refuge from the demons that were chasing me.  With every step forward that I took, I sensed an evil presence lurking closely behind, summoning me to the darkness.  It was gaining ground on me, and it wouldn’t be long until its relentless pursuit became too much for me to bear.  My life was about to change dramatically in ways that I couldn’t even begin to understand.  I was about to begin my descent into my own personal “living” hell.

On an airplane returning from Los Angeles during the middle of May in 2011, I could sense that my running was done.  As we made our descent into Philadelphia, I peered out the window to my left and felt my stomach sink as I witnessed the dark abyss awaiting my return.  Something wasn’t right.  I felt ill.  My mind was vulnerable…negative thoughts came racing in.  And then everything began to slowly fall apart.  A long wait at baggage claim.  A shuttle that took almost another hour to arrive.  A rain that began as a drizzle and turned into a torrential downpour as I headed up the turnpike.  It was the worst weather that I can ever remember driving in…it almost shook my car off the road.  And when I did finally arrive home, I walked in the door and felt like a foreigner in my own apartment.  I was frightened…the surroundings felt eerily unfamiliar…the walls were closing in.

That night was the beginning of my collapse.  A vicious panic attack greeted me in my sleep, and I became too terrified to close my eyes again.  I stayed awake until 6:30 AM.  The next night, 5:30 AM.  Things were getting ugly.  But this was just the beginning.

About a week and half after my return from California, I suffered through another tremendously difficult night.  That evening, I took a shower and as I stood at the mirror shaving my anxiety became so intense that I couldn’t even finish.  Minutes later, I felt as though I was going to collapse.  This had to be what a nervous breakdown felt like…I grabbed the phone and called my father and explained to him what I was feeling.  I asked him to stop by my place.  I didn’t want to be alone because I sensed that something terrible was about to happen, and I didn’t know if I’d be able to help myself in the event that it did.

When he arrived, I was completely exhausted.  My mind and my body were completed depleted.  I was scared to death, and although I was brimming with adrenaline, I could barely keep my eyes open.  I remember that I was sitting on the couch with my father across from me on the chair by the window.  As we sat and talked with one another, two to three times I found myself so fatigued that I dozed off, only to awake each time five to ten minutes later with severe panic.  It was a terrifying experience, and I know it pained my father to see me that way.

Eventually, I retired to bed.  My father offered to stay and sleep in the living room.  Unfortunately, I found no more comfort in my own bed than I had on the couch earlier that evening.  So I read the Bible and prayed…asking the Lord for wisdom, for strength, and for hope.  And then, I pulled out my iPad and typed up the journal entry below…

This is a look inside of my mind that night.  For months, I’ve been hesitant to share this, but I think that it might be able to provide some comfort to those of you who are struggling with your own set of demons in your life.  This was not the bottom for me…in fact it took about another six months for me to find that place.  But I survived it, and I’m a better man for it today.  You CAN overcome – I promise.  Just maintain your faith and never give up, and the Lord will help you weather the storm.  May God bless.

5/25/11 3:13 AM

So I decided tonight that maybe I’d start keeping a journal.  I’m hoping that writing will allow me to clear my head so that I can fall asleep. Being awake this late at night on a regular basis is killing me. I can feel myself deteriorating from the stress and anxiety. Tonight I was very afraid that I might be looking into the eyes of a nervous breakdown and perhaps I still am. After a very stressful day at work, I felt myself barely clinging to the edge of sanity this evening. It was as if I had drained all of my body’s resources. I hardly had the strength to move. I thought I might collapse. So I called my dad and asked if he could come spend some time with me…I was scared to be alone if it really did happen, and I wasn’t sure I’d make it to a phone if it did. I was hoping earlier that perhaps I was just dehydrated or maybe I needed something to eat, but after addressing both those things I still feel unstable. My body feels like it’s trembling inside and I feel lost and confused. Even with my dad on the couch in the next room I cannot get any sleep, I’m too afraid to relax and close my eyes. My life has truly become a sad existence. I’m so tired of fighting this battle.  And it feels like my body has decided that it feels the same. So what do I do? Two weeks ago I was in California, thousands of miles from my safe zone battling my demons, and I was winning.  I actually felt as though I was living life…even if only momentarily. It sure felt good. By the end of the trip I was sleeping great at night and wishing that I could stay. But the minute I got off the plane in Philly everything changed…and it’s truly been downhill since. It’s almost as if today I’ve already forgotten who that strong, independent person was in California. I could not be weaker in this moment. How did I lose myself so quickly again? And why does it have to be so hard for me to try and hold onto an ounce of peace…why is happiness so fleeting? I don’t know how to get myself back. I’m getting too frail to fight. Everything just works in a vicious cycle. It’s out of control and I can’t stop it. I’m fearful for my physical health and my sanity. Thank the Lord for the comfort He provides. Otherwise, I wouldn’t know what to do. I’m just so thankful to be promised salvation. In God’s time I will find my peace. It may not be on this green earth but someday I’ll find it. That promise is what keeps me going. My eyes are getting heavy, maybe this is working. Going to try again to get some rest. Can’t do many more days on this little sleep at work…gnite

Feb 1

full steam ahead

As the morning sun peaks around the blinds in my bedroom, I lift my head and thank God for another restful night’s sleep and for a new day ahead. This moment is very important to me. I try to ensure that I never take it for granted. I have vivid memories of nights when sleep was a tremendously terrifying experience. I can recall countless mornings when I awoke with bloodshot eyes and my body trembling, feeling as though I hadn’t found any peace in the night at all. Today, things are much better. Not because I am no longer susceptible to those restless nights, but because I trust wholeheartedly in God’s ability to carry me through them if they should choose to reemerge unexpectedly. My faith gives me peace. It helps me to understand that I am not alone, and that He will never abandon me. As I progress and heal from these experiences, I’m able to recall those nights when things seemed as though they couldn’t possibly get any worse, and I find strength in those memories. I survived the worst, and I’m still here to tell this story, and for that I am forever thankful.

After I say my prayer at the edge of my bed, I head over to the French doors in the bedroom and draw the blinds. The sun finds a break in the clouds and reaches out to me…beautiful. Another day…lucky to be alive. I hear a rumble in the distance and as I gaze out across the backside of the complex where I live I notice that a train is approaching. I wonder where its final destination lies? One thing is for sure, it’s not going to be here for long. Maybe a quick stop to unload some cargo and then off again? No, that can’t be it. The momentum generated by its powerful engine is telling me that this train has bigger plans for how it will utilize the tracks that lie ahead. Today it is just passing through. It’s pressing forward with purpose, leaving me and my wandering gaze in its rear-view.

As the engine roars out of sight, my eyes remain fixed on the tracks that it has left behind. I feel deflated inside. I had woken with a spring in my step and gratitude in my heart. But now, in almost an instant, I’m left feeling very uneasy. What’s just happened? How was that passing train able to engage me and in a matter of minutes spark such conflicting emotion inside of me?

I head out of the bedroom and make my way into the kitchen where I grab some breakfast. My mind begins to digest my recent mood transition as I sit down at the dining room table and peer once again out of the windows surrounding me. And then it all hits me. I slowly unveil the symbolism of that train, and I’m able to piece together what is causing me the pain inside. I recall the prayer that I said at the edge of my bed. I remember asking God to help me make the most of the new day…to seek opportunity in what lies ahead and to find the strength keep moving forward. Moving forward. That train was the ultimate symbol of this…embodying relentless pursuit of its final destination. And while it moved dynamically beyond my sight, I was left viewing what it had left behind.

I was left with the past…those tracks that had become all too familiar to me. I had run them a million times, and they had only led me back to that same lonely bedroom window time after time, leaving me longing for something greater. But fear was defeating my desire to run out ahead with a plan and a purpose. My dreams were being forfeited for familiarity. Because sometimes it’s easier to be comfortable and miserable than it is to take a risk and achieve true happiness. I had survived that way for years. But now, having rekindled my dreams through my faith, I was beginning to feel this tremendous conflict inside. I was asking God for the opportunity to move forward, and he was providing it to me…every day. I was being reminded of this each morning as I saw that powerful locomotive speed by my window. But to this day I’ve been too intimidated to look further down the tracks and explore what lies ahead, and that leaves me at a conflict with my purpose. I can only dream from this window. There is very little left for me to accomplish on the all too visible and treacherous tracks of my past. It’s about time to paint with a broader brush. Surviving is not living. God intended more for us in this life.

Over the course of the past ten years, I haven’t truly done a lot of “living”. But thankfully, I am able to remember what it felt like during the times when I did. When I was 18 and moved to southern California…those were some of the absolute best times of my life. Of course I was young and I was making mistakes, but I was free. I was independent, strong, and proud of my experiences. I took a chance and I embraced it, but during that time fear was not such an active part of my life. When anxiety and panic came knocking at the door, I began to resent my surroundings, and eventually I boarded that train headed full speed ahead back to the familiar tracks of home. At home I was comfortable. Not happy, not free, but comfortable. Surviving.

In the years that followed, my life continued to follow this pattern. I’d gain strength, feel inspired, hitch a ride on the next train heading out of town and start “living” again. After my return home in January of 2003, I ventured back out the following summer to complete my degree at the University of North Carolina. I was successful there, and while there were ups and downs, I was definitely playing an active role in my life again. I was embracing independence. I found the girl I thought to be my soul mate and fell deeply in love, and when I graduated in May of 2005, my future had never seemed more promising. And then, the slow retreat began…

After graduation, I wanted to live and work in a city in the northeast and my partner was open to suggestions. I chose Philadelphia over New York, Boston, Baltimore, you name it…truly because it was “familiar” and “comfortable”. After all, I grew up just a little over an hour outside of the city. Although I would have never been willing to admit this at the time, I chose it because it was less risky. If things imploded, I could run home. And after spending a year there, when the busy streets and job stresses began taking their tolls on us as a couple, I did what felt best…I grabbed my fiancé and boarded the next train home. We established new jobs, bought a house and settled down just five minutes from where I grew up. Comfortable and seemingly happy for the time. But back to the familiar tracks that ultimately led nowhere but down.

My fiancé left me in a calculated and tactless way during the summer of 2007. A couple of months prior to her departure, she mentioned to me one morning that she “didn’t know if she wanted to get married, own a house, or live in Pennsylvania anymore.” I was devastated. She continued by saying that she “missed Florida, the beach” and really everything that was not characteristic of our current surroundings. It was coming down to me making a move nearer to her home to save the relationship. She knew I wouldn’t go, and I did too. I had been adamant about it. I couldn’t leave my comfort zone, so I described to her all of the reasons why hers was wrong. I made no effort to compromise. And she did what she had to do. I can’t blame her for that…I only wish that she would have been more honest and handled it with a bit more class, because it broke my heart.

I found myself alone and distressed, but comfortable…still surviving. Having digested the heartache for a couple of months, I soon began living again. I met a girl on a weekend visit to Chapel Hill, and we began dating and ventured off on a long distance relationship for the six months that followed. But a compromise and a move was going to be necessary soon. Not me. No, I couldn’t leave the familiar tracks. Plus I owned a house, so I had established roots…that would be my excuse. So my girlfriend moved north. We ignored all of our relationship issues which had become extremely apparent since we had begun living together, and in time, we got engaged. A couple of months after, she too was on her way out and heading back to Florida. I was left with the pieces. It hurt, but I could survive here. I at least knew that.

In the months that followed, I found some strength in my friends and I began to feel a bit more inspired again. I needed to get out of my house and hop on that next train. It was time that I started living and began taking some risks. I was in my mid 20’s and life was beginning to pass me by. I started contemplating a move to the DC area, but quickly my search narrowed back to Philly…and ultimately, I settled 20 minutes down the road in Wyomissing. I justified my extended stay in Berks County by examining the costs of living and by asserting that it just made more sense financially. The truth is that I was scared. Fear won the battle, again. And this was familiar territory. So I shouldn’t have been surprised when I watched yet another relationship crumbling before my eyes on Valentine’s Day of 2011. I shouldn’t have been shocked to see my best friend abandon our relationship of more than 15 years for the comfort of the abuses he sought on those familiar tracks. I should have expected a trusted acquaintance to forfeit the maturity he had developed during his time away and turn his back on me when he once again became comfortable at home. These tracks, they lead nowhere.

Because this place…it’s the “home” of heartache and broken dreams for me. I’m not placing any blame, and I certainly don’t see myself as a victim of circumstance. I chose those relationships; I sought them out. And I made the decision to live here, and come back, time and time again. Why? Why am I so attached to this place? I think it’s because it’s small town. Nothing really changes. For the most part, the people, they stay the same. I could find many of them at the same place this Friday night as they would have been when I left them for California at 18. They’ve aged a bit, but for the most part they look the same, speak the same, and embody the same old habits. The town never really evolves. Sure, we’ve added a few new restaurants and shops, but there is very little movement or initiative for change. Comfort and familiarity win the battle here. Day after day, and year after year. And that’s exactly why I returned time after time. Because up until just recently, I feared change as much as nearly everyone else in this sleepy community. I hid in the comforts of my surroundings, and found excuses not to deal with myself.

But then faith became a part of my life. And God revealed to me when I was most vulnerable the person that I am inside and the person who I wish to become. He gave me the strength to wipe the slate clean, address my weaknesses, and change for the better. He showed me a purpose that corresponded with my beliefs and the passions that resided deep inside my heart, beneath all of the fear that had been holding me hostage for years. He showed me that there was a whole lot more to life than those same old tracks in plain view just outside of my bedroom window.

It’s amazing, but the faith that I found in my darkest moments…it has given me the opportunity to dream again and to want more from life. To seek deeper meaning and fulfill a purpose on course with the priorities that I’ve found for today and for my future. My faith has allowed me to gaze out of that window with a desire to hop on board that train with a new destination in mind…one that corresponds with ME, and with living, not with fear and mere survival.

So tomorrow, as I watch that engine roll on by, I’ll know why I’m left feeling conflicted as it disappears from my sight. I’ll understand that comfortable is a dead end road, and I’ll be reminded of my purpose and my vision for a brighter future. And I will get to work on fulfilling it. Because I finally am able to trust that I am on the right track…full steam ahead.

Jan 25

finish strong

Exhausted and gasping for air with my hands at my hips and my legs wobbling beneath my thin frame, I hear my father scream from across the field, “finish strong!”  Seconds later I begin fighting the battle in my mind.  My body is screaming at me to surrender.  I can’t possibly go another 50 yards.  But his words are actively seeking one last desperate attempt to keep me in motion.  They reach down further within me and touch a part of me that is more powerful than my mind, than fear, than “quit”.  They find my heart.  And my head rises.  I straighten my back and my shoulders.  Wiping the sweat from my eyes, I take a deep breath.  And I repeat those words back to myself.  I look to my right, and then to my left.  I see my teammates, and they too are shaken.  In this moment, there is great opportunity.  Set an example.  Dig deeper, push harder…run this last sprint for pride.  Run it to win…not just today, but for every day that follows.

Through my relationship with my father and athletics, I’ve learned many valuable lessons over the years that I will undoubtedly carry with me for the rest of my life.  Perhaps none was better than to “finish strong”.  I remember those evenings at football practice as a youth, and the cool, early summer nights when we’d flip on the porch light to create enough visibility to throw the last 25 pitches.  Those nights are what have made sports so special to me.  It wasn’t the game that was going to define me…it was the heart that it took to play with resolve, and a purpose.  It was finding the strength not to quit when you were tired.  It was discovering resiliency and focus in the face of adversity.  Heart separates the men from the boys and it affords you the opportunity to be stronger in the 4th quarter than you were when you first took the field.  It carries a weak mind and a failing body.  Heart inspires people.

There is no better way to display heart than by leaving it on the field and to, in the words of my father, “finish strong”.  Let’s take a minute to dissect these words of encouragement and look into the meaning of them a bit.  First let’s examine “finish”.  Finish means “to arrive at or attain the end of”.  In the case of that last 50 yard sprint, finishing meant closing the door on yet another day of practice.  But used in a broader context, the word carries far more weight.  It means “don’t quit”. Finish implies that you’ve started something and that you need to see it through to the end.  It means allowing for nothing to discourage or impede your efforts.  Finish does not apply only in calm waters.  To finish we are expected to encounter struggle…we’re expected to hang our head momentarily as we gasp for air.  We’re expected to doubt our mind and body’s ability to carry us to the end.  And then, we’re meant to call on our heart.  The heart won’t let us down…it will see us through.  We will finish this race and will find a desire to run again soon.

Now let’s take a look at the word “strong”.  Everyone has a different definition of what this means to them personally.  Strong can be used to describe physical prowess or sound health.  It can characterize a force of will or a great ability/achievement.  But there are two definitions of strong that I relate these motivational words to the most.  The first is “not easily defeated” and the second is “having force of conviction or feeling; uncompromising”.  To me, strong cannot be simply a state of physical health or ability.  Strong is far more complex than that.  In fact, I believe that it’s truly in our weakest moments that we uncover our greatest strength.  It suggests seeking desperately to find a means to fight when every ounce of our being is asking us to resign…to just throw in the towel.  Strong is relentless.  It means doing things with a purpose, with guts, even in times of despair.  Strong doesn’t necessarily imply being the best, or winning…instead, it means finding personal satisfaction with the effort put forth.  Strength is in all of us, we just need to dig deep to find it.

So how was it that my father intended to reach me with those words?  He didn’t use them to simply inspire the last sprint of that evening’s practice.  No, I know that man well and I understand today that there was far more to it than that.  He meant it on far deeper level.  He was preparing me for the cutthroat world that stood before me during that time of innocence as a child.  Because life was going to be more than just a sprint, it was going to entail a long race of endurance with twists, turns, and obstacles eagerly waiting to disrupt my run and impede my finish.  My father was speaking to the core of my being.  He was reaching for my heart and encouraging me to stand tall, broaden my shoulders, face the adversity, and keep moving forward with conviction.  He was telling me to finish the fight.  To run the course that God had laid out for me, to find my greatest strength in my darkest moments, and to end the race with more passion and heart than I had started it.  He was asking me to do everything with a purpose.  He was inviting me to live.

So I dove in head first without hesitation or fear of what I might encounter along my journey.  And my race has been one that has required incredible resolve.  There were times when the terrain appeared completely downhill and my pace advanced so effortlessly that progress felt inevitable.  But then there were also moments of intense adversity, unforeseen difficulty and hardship.  Many days the climb seemed never ending.  My pace would slow to a crawl, and I’d find myself hanging my head in despair.  And then I’d hear that voice in my head saying “finish strong” and I’d be reminded of the way that I overcame adversity that evening with my toes on the goal line, getting ready for that last sprint of the evening’s practice.  And I’d reach deep inside of my heart and find the strength to keep moving forward.  This is where you separate the men from the boys.  Finish the race set out for you.  Don’t quit.  Find your passion and your purpose.  Live.

I can’t even begin to describe to you just how many times I’ve used those words to motivate myself and persevere through the most challenging moments in my life.  And today, the words “finish strong” carry more weight than ever.  Because I’ve lived 29 years, and I think I finally have a full understanding of how to best apply them to my future.  I want to live life with passion and with heart.  I want to embrace my greatest strengths which arrived in moments where I found myself at my weakest physically and mentally, yet somehow found the courage to keep moving forward.  I want to use those strengths and my resilient heart to inspire others.  I want to grow stronger with age and experience, and leave this world a better place than I entered it.  And I want to finish this race that is life with conviction and purpose.  I want to endure and overcome.  It’s time to “finish strong”.

Jan 21

in a dark room alone

One absolute certainty that I’ve learned in my 29 years is that life is going to come at you hard, and that you’re going to get knocked down.  Chances are that you’ve already discovered this for yourself at one time or another.  Adversity will hit you square between the eyes.  You’ll be left feeling stunned and searching for answers, too shaken to reason how you will piece yourself back together.  Your mind and body will respond naturally as they’ve been trained – fight or flee?  After quickly analyzing the severity of the situation, you will make the decision to do what you feel is best in that moment.  Perhaps you will find the strength inside to hold your ground and sort through what’s in front of you.  But what if you can’t?  What if you’ve found the adversity that you are facing to be so debilitating that it’s driven you to your breaking point?  Your only reasonable thought is to run.  Escape the situation until you can regain your composure.  Take refuge somewhere secure and safe.  Where is it that you go when things fall apart?

Everyone’s answer to this question is likely to be somewhat unique. But no matter how it’s individually defined, “home” is likely to be a popular response.  There is something about heading back to that place of innocence that holds us in tact during our most troubled times.  Perhaps it’s the familiarity of the surroundings, our parents, a sibling, or even an aging pet that we consider our dearest friend.  But I believe that it’s more than that.  When we go “home”, we find comfort there because it’s a place where our trust is absolutely unwavering.  We believe wholeheartedly in its power.  In most cases, it’s become our ultimate symbol of sustainability.  In all likelihood, things were never perfect at “home”.  But it still remains our rock of solidarity.  Through the fondest and even most painful experiences, it has persevered.  Quite possibly, it’s the place that held our hand as we took our first step and also the cushion that softened the blow during our first collapse.  We’ve witnessed its strength.  At “home”, we’ve seen ourselves grow, and we’ve felt ourselves heal.  Inside those walls we’ve let go of that hand with trust.  We’ve learned to stand and walk on our own.  And we’ve picked ourselves back up and fought again without hesitancy, knowing that if we fell again that there would be someone waiting to break our fall.

In January of 2003 when I abandoned my life in California stricken with intense anxiety and panic, I found my comfort by returning “home”.  During that period of my life, my move back to Pennsylvania provided me with a lot of strength.  I had myself convinced by the following summer that it had nearly healed me altogether, but as I would find out in the years that followed, “home” had only cushioned the blow.  “Home” helped me to survive that troubling time and it supported me mercifully as I found the strength to walk again, but it didn’t solve the underlying problem.  Even as I reunited with independence and moved forward with my life, there was something very limiting holding me back beneath the surface.

Blame is an extremely powerful emotion.  Sadly, it’s how most of us choose to deal with ourselves when life seems to deal us a bad hand.  We look outside instead of directing our focus inward.  It’s our nature to want to find answers that justify our hurt and our anger.  It can’t be us…something else is causing the problem.  For me, during that time of my life it was California that was the problem.  I lived in one of the most beautiful parts of the country, and I had previously fallen completely in love with it.  But once my anxiety presented itself, I started turning what I felt inside outward against my surroundings.  I cursed sunny days and prayed for rain.  I resented the warm weather and the lack of seasons.  Who cared about the beach anyway?  And what was with all of these people?  This place was too far from my roots…it was too far from “home” and I felt isolated.  California became my scapegoat.

The scapegoat was one of the essential elements that would hold me back with my healing for the next 9 years of my life.  I was just perpetuating an awful cycle of failure and blame, and I was headed nowhere beyond right back to my starting point.  Because I’ve learned that until you look inside of yourself and make peace with what you find, you can never truly move forward.  Sure, you may be able to keep yourself afloat by shifting blame over and over again.  You may even be able to sustain your entire life making that practice habitual.  But that’s not going to lead you to greener pastures.  If you are constantly practicing blame, then gratitude has eluded you, and you can’t truly be happy.  Resentful, yes…happy, no.  The answers are within you, but how do you uncover them?

When I began writing my blog this past summer, I found myself in the midst of the most painful time of my life, and I was left completely vulnerable.  I really had no idea what I was doing, but God had powerfully made himself known to me and had directed me with a bit of inspiration to take full responsibility for myself, and I felt compelled to listen.  And so began the process of self-realization, forgiveness, and healing.  I would like to stress the importance of the word “began”.  Because even though I was continually gaining more clarity, this was just setting the wheels in motion for a more dramatic transformation that was eventually going to take place.  This was the starting line.

Most of you who have followed my blog from the beginning are probably under the impression that things turned around for me quickly as I unveiled my story.  This wasn’t the case, however.  In fact, reliving those memories and coming to grips with my involvement in the negative twists and turns of my life was a horribly painful thing for me.  But it’s what had to be done.  Often I would find myself sitting at the computer, eyes filled with tears and anxiety causing my hands to tremble uncontrollably as I documented the events of my past.  And I’d just tell myself “this chapter will be closed soon” with the hope that I would feel tremendous relief in only a couple of hours when I completed the entry.  Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case; usually I was only left with more anxiety.  I would often feel short of breath for the rest of the night, as if someone was standing directly on top of my chest and on my throat.  I would shake and panic, and would routinely find myself running for herbal supplements to calm myself.  Nocturnal panic attacks would continue to wake me throughout the night and make sleep a terrifying experience.  Sounds like a horrific way to live, and it was, believe me.  But this was also a beautiful time.  This is where the magic began to happen.

When things fell apart, there was a big part of me that wanted to flee my situation…to run back “home” and heal.  I was living alone and had very little face to face interaction with anyone throughout my day because I was working from a remote office.  I had my family about 30 minutes away, but I really only saw them once every week or two, and often only for a few minutes at a time.  So the empty, lonesome walls surrounding me…they’re what I had.  And I was a grown man, and I didn’t want to forfeit my life.  I was not going to abandon my independence and my career.  I had to make myself comfortable with the situation, because even if I left momentarily, I knew that ultimately I would need to return to it to continue on.  And I was learning that a quick fix wasn’t the answer any longer for me.  I had to get to the heart of the problem.  Myself.  And I could only find those answers in one place…a dark room alone.

In the weeks and even months that followed, I did a lot of trial and error testing on solutions for my issues.  What I didn’t understand at the time was that despite my best efforts to heal from within, I was still frequently making desperate attempts to seek answers outside of myself.  For instance, I began experimenting with different natural supplements to alleviate my anxiety and panic.  One supplement in particular, I took for several months at extremely high doses.  It helped to alleviate some of the effects of my disorder, but it complicated other parts of my life.  It slowed my thinking and made me feel more tired and depressed, and even seemed to “dull” the responses of my nervous system.  In addition, I followed a website that predicted mood behavior based upon the phases of the moon, and it all became a self-fulfilling prophecy for me.  I experimented with Melatonin supplementation, which led to disastrous results only weeks later.  And I studied self-help material religiously for quite some time; this was probably one of the few positive things that I offered myself.

There were nights that my efforts seemed to benefit me, and I’d think to myself “wow, this has to be it, this is the answer.”  And then morning would arrive, and I’d wake feeling worse than I had in weeks.  It was such a deflating experience.  I was running out of tricks to tame this beast.  I was losing hope.  That dark room that I found myself alone in each night was scaring me to death.  I was fearful of myself and of my mind because it was racing out of control in search of new solutions.  I couldn’t turn it off.  I’d put on my headphones with a self-help audiobook and do my best to try to relax and drift off to sleep.  Or I’d turn on the TV to keep myself company and serve as a temporary distraction until my eyes would grow heavy.  Those nights were tough.  I dreaded them.

Around Thanksgiving, I found what I would now consider to be my real rock bottom.  The week before the holiday I had been feeling as though I was coming down with something physically, perhaps a recurring sinus infection presenting itself once again that had been plaguing me since May.  I spent Sunday the 20th working for about 15 hours straight in Excel spreadsheets and in our estimating software doing my best to meet a Monday morning pricing deadline for an international prospect.  I stayed up until about 3 AM, and submitted the quotes just minutes before they were due in the United Kingdom.  I was exhausted, and I knew very well what the stress of that day was doing to me.  I heard a voice in my head at about 10 PM say “just stop, it’s not worth it, submit what you have complete and get some rest”.  But I couldn’t quit.  I was hitting a wall, but I somehow convinced myself to push through it, and remarkably, I did.  Two days later, it grounded me.

My anxiety had once again become a complete mess, and now I was also sick physically.  My natural response remained what it always had been, to seek a solution.  So I ran to Rite Aid for a couple of homeopathic cures to aid my sinus infection, and in turn, only made it worse.  I was in terrible shape.  I missed Thanksgiving with my family, and I spent the day in bed with really only fruit to eat because my fridge was empty and there was no place nearby open.  It was miserable.  I never felt more alone.  I sat and cried as I watched the football games.  What had my life come to?

A day or two passed, and I remained feeling much the same as I had on Thanksgiving Day.  Depression was now settling in around me.  But something had to be done.  Or this could be it for me.  And then magically, the answers that I had been so desperately seeking in that dark room alone suddenly came to me.  I felt the power of it as it rushed into my soul.  It lifted me to my feet.  I went to my office, grabbed my laptop, opened up a new Word document and typed the words “Let Go, Trust, Believe, Faith”.  I printed it out and taped it to my refrigerator.  Then I took a picture of it and made it the desktop image on my phone.  Immediately I began to feel some new life in my aching bones.

It was at that very moment that everything became so incredibly clear to me.  I had been practicing my faith actively every day.  I was doing my daily devotions, reading scripture, practicing prayer, asking for forgiveness, and doing my best to take responsibility for myself and be a better person moving forward.  But in that dark room alone, I wasn’t fully trusting in God’s ability and willingness to heal me in His time.  I was continually attempting to construct my own solutions, and it was pulling me away from my faith.  Fear was winning the battle.  It was time to “let go” and trust wholeheartedly that God would restore me in time.  I had nothing else to lose; I had exhausted every other option.  I dropped to my knees and asked God to show his mercy on me and told him that I would make every effort to trust His plan moving forward.  And I could feel the weight being lifted from my shoulders.

I made the decision that day to stop looking outside of myself and my faith for answers.  I slowly worked my way off the heavy dosage of the supplement that I had been taking regularly and by January 1st, I cut it out of my life altogether.  In addition, I haven’t utilized any other calming supplements in about a month and a half.  My mind is beginning to feel sharper, and I’m gaining confidence in myself every day.  I’m not free of anxiety and panic, but I’m handling it differently, and it’s working.  When I become overwhelmed, I talk to God and he eases my mind because I trust Him.  If panic strikes in the middle of the night while I am sleeping, I allow my heart to race and I pray.  Minutes later, I am back fast asleep.  And those attacks rarely even choose present themselves anymore.

In that dark room alone, I now fear nothing at all.  In fact, I enjoy my time there.  I use it to be in solitude with my thoughts, because since my mind has calmed, I’ve been able to embrace them again.  I often will put on some music and just think.  I’ll seek inspiration for a new blog, or just contemplate my life and my dreams.  My unwavering trust is now in my “home” with the Lord…the place where I will continue to seek refuge when adversity strikes in my life.  I’ve witnessed His power, and I believe in His ability to heal a broken mind, body, and spirit.  I know that He will never abandon me, so no matter where I am, I am never without a “home”.  Thanks to Him, I now see a future beyond these days.  Thanks to the peace and comfort provided by answers found in a dark room alone…with God.

Jan 18

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the airport

I’m not sure if there is any place on the face of the planet that holds the power to arouse a more diverse range of emotions than the airport. Over the years, I’ve seen the best and worst of life gazing out of those broad terminal windows. There is something very magical about this place. It’s the epicenter of emotional hellos and goodbyes. It’s the birthplace of escapes from our day to day reality. It’s an exciting new place, and it’s also the comfort of home. Each and every day the airport becomes a temporary resting place for a unique group of people. Look to your right and you’ll catch a glance at a young family full of life that’s spent years socking away every penny to afford their children the vacation of a lifetime. Look to your left and you’ll see a wet behind the ears and anxious salesman living on a Ramen noodle budget, hoping to close his first deal so that he can get out of his father’s loaner suit and into one of his own. As you line to board the plane, you’ll notice a clean shaven man of 18 years dressed in fatigues heading off to serve our great nation, and you’ll nod in appreciation and allow him on ahead of you. You’ll see eyes filled with tears, you’ll hear “I love you” on someone’s last phone call, and you’ll feel the magnitude of all that’s happening around you, and it’ll give a gentle tug to your heart.

My first distinct memories of the airport probably go back to when I was around 9 or 10 years old and my sister was a student at the University of Notre Dame. She would fly home for breaks and we would head off to Lehigh Valley or Harrisburg to await her arrival. This was always a very intriguing experience for me as kid. We’d often have dinner at the restaurant in the airport and then would head over to the monitors to check on the timing of her flight. I’d gaze up at the big board with wide eyes. The world always felt completely limitless in the airport. It was exciting. “I wonder who is on that flight from Chicago? What do they do for a living that allows them to travel? Where do they live?”

During that time, we were still able to wait at the gate for the passengers to arrive. So my Mom and Dad and I would head over and sit by the windows and make our best efforts to guess which flicker in the distant sky was carrying my sister. And then her plane would taxi in, and the fun would begin. Usually we would make our best effort to embarrass her and sometimes we’d even hide. “Welcome home” to the usual cast of characters!

Those were great memories, and they most definitely encouraged my interest in travel. Because those trips to the airport left me feeling inspired. They taught me to dream and to want more. Perhaps that’s part of what led me to a desire to leave my hometown and explore southern California at 18. I felt alive when I was on a plane because literally, the sky was the limit. You could walk into an airport without a plan, buy a ticket, and head off to somewhere new with endless possibilities. You could leave the past behind and within a few hours step off the plane with a brand new start in front of you. No one at your destination would have preconceived notions of who you could and couldn’t be, because no one knew you. It was innocence. It was the same feeling that I had as a kid staring at the monitor of arrivals and departures. Life felt boundless and plentiful. Nothing to lose and everything to gain. It was like carrying a winning lottery ticket, and you just needed to have the guts to go cash it in.

When anxiety and panic disorder began severely disrupting my life in the summer of 2002, my view of the airport became a bit jaded. I was introduced to all of the dark emotions that could accompany this seemingly magical place. I remember it like it was yesterday. My best friend from back home had been out visiting me for a week and it was during his stay that I encountered my first bout with severe anxiety and panic. I had no idea what was happening to me. I truly became a different person overnight. Just 24 hours earlier, I had been a confident, independent, and secure young man, and now I was finding myself feeling as helpless as a lost child. When I pulled into LAX to bid my buddy farewell, my body shook with fear. I walked him inside the terminal, and as I headed back to my car, I found myself to be a complete wreck. That very moment was the birth of an entirely new and painful way of living for me. The airport was transitioning into a symbol of destruction and I’d soon learn that it would become a lightning rod for painful experiences in my life.

Flights home during my times of struggle in California were very difficult on me. Fear would confront me every time that I boarded the plane. I would feel confined, trapped, and completely panicked. There was nothing pleasant about the experience. It was five or six hours of hell. But the thought of my family waiting at baggage claim in Philadelphia would carry me through it. Coming back however, was a different story. Not only did I need to confront all of those feelings previously mentioned, but now there was only loneliness and isolation awaiting my return. There was no family at the gate. I was alone in California, and I was scared to death that I would completely fall apart there. Thank the Lord for my girlfriend at the time for holding me together for as long as she could. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long until one of those return trips became too much for me to bear. It was Thanksgiving of 2002 when I abandoned a drive to the airport, had my father turn the car around, and soon after made the decision to move back to Pennsylvania to regain my strength.

It was not until the winter of 2007 that I felt comfortable challenging my fear of that return trip. I had planned a vacation with my fiancé at the time to warm and sunny southern California. I needed to make peace with my past, and I wanted to show her around the places that I had once adored. I remember that flight very well. Sweaty palms, racing heart, nausea; I had no idea how my body would react when I stepped off the plane. But as we passed through the gate and into the terminal at LAX, I felt completely alive. It was familiar and welcoming. I was back, and it was still home.

Unfortunately, not all of my experiences with my fiancé at the airport were quite as uplifting and positive. For it was in Philadelphia, just steps outside of security that I said goodbye to her forever, less than six months after that incredibly redeeming trip to California. It was there that I held her hand for the last time…it’s where we last kissed, hugged, and shared an “I love you.” And today when I pass through that terminal, I often remember that moment, and it sends a shiver up my spine.

Since that time, I’ve spent a lot of my days traveling. I’ve had the opportunity to see a great bit of the country, and I have enjoyed most of my experiences visiting places old and new. But during the past year of my life in particular, flights here and there once again became a real stumbling block for me. Amazingly, nearly every experience that I had in the airport during that time led to a dramatic turn of events in my life.

Almost exactly one year ago, I traveled to Lincoln, NE to meet up with a customer from California for a press check. On the flight out to Lincoln, I began feeling some pretty intense anxiety. This was a bit uncharacteristic for me. It had been years since I really had any difficulties flying. But in an instant, panic was knocking at the door. It was only hours later that evening when I found myself back at the hotel in an argument on the phone with my girlfriend of nearly a year in a half. That night that I discovered that she had been lying to me when I left town. And less than one month later, we broke up.

This past May on a week-long visit to both northern and southern California for business, I found myself convinced that my positive experiences on the road were going to allow me to leave my anxiety in the rearview. I felt alive during that trip, and I overcame all kinds of fear. But when I arrived at LAX on Saturday morning for my return flight to PA, I could sense something dramatic happening. And upon our descent into Philadelphia, everything fell apart. Light turned to darkness. I found myself on the freeway to destruction. That drive home was a precursor for the deep abyss eagerly awaiting me…rock bottom.

Throughout the summer, things went from bad to worse. But as I took responsibility for my past I became far more self-aware and I found myself gaining some clarity and understanding. I was slowly working my way back onto the right track, but God wasn’t nearly finished refining me. I had left a real mess in His hands. This was going to take time, patience, and trust.

At the end of September, I hopped back on a plane to California. I met my boss out in San Jose and we ran a couple of client meetings nearby, and then by mid-week we headed south to San Diego for a dinner. That night in the Gaslamp, an otherwise very positive week went haywire. Anxiety struck me with tremendous intensity. I struggled to swallow at dinner, and had to excuse myself several times from the table. I don’t know if anyone noticed, but I was a complete disaster inside. The next morning we caught a cab to the airport and headed to the gates for our separate departures. My boss boarded about a half hour ahead of me, and I was very thankful for that. Because I could barely hold in for another minute the severe anguish that I was burrowing inside. I was about to crack. The room began to feel like it was spinning. My throat closed up. I couldn’t breathe and I felt faint. With nowhere to turn, I called my Dad and he calmed me down with some words of encouragement. I had been ready to abandon ship, but ultimately I made the decision to trust in God, and I got on the plane and headed home. It was one of the longest days of my life. But I made it. Just a few weeks later however, I hit a wall physically. The chronic nature of my intense anxiety had beaten me to my knees. This is the time in my life when I really found God.

Today I hold in my hands a free airline ticket that I’ve earned with frequent flyer miles from all of the business and personal travel that I’ve done over the past couple of years. I’ve been holding onto it for about eight months, and in another four, it will expire. My fear has broken and exhausted me. I’ve learned to only survive in my comfort zone, and the thought of stepping outside of it often scares me to death. Because too many times I’ve seen the dark side of the place that I once considered the birthplace of dreams and limitless possibilities. I haven’t forgotten those positive memories. I just wish that I could somehow discover that innocence in my life again and find the strength to believe that the sky truly is the limit.

I’m holding a winning lottery ticket. I can go anywhere that I want and be whoever I want to be. The problem is that I don’t quite have the guts to cash it in. I pray that someday soon I will…and I hope that you will in your life too. Because when you do, it is then that you will truly fly.

Jan 16

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why I will never give up on love

Love.  We all desire for it in our lives.  It presents itself to us beautifully in a multitude of ways, as unique and diverse in fashion as we are created as individuals.  Perhaps it’s felt through a relationship with a best friend or even a pet.  Maybe it’s through a sports team or an idol that we’ve embraced as our own.  Or it could be through our faith and our relationship with God or our family.  But to most of us, love is most ideally thought of as the romance and the companionship of our soul mate.  It’s the truth that we feel as we gaze into our partner’s eyes, and the comfort that makes all of our worries disappear instantly.  It’s the gentle touch of a hand that provides security and lifts us to our feet when we fall.  It’s bigger than money or earthly things.  It’s two imperfect beings uniting as one to form a bond that is, in each others’ eyes, absolute perfection.  Love is God’s gift to us.

Unfortunately, love doesn’t always come easy.  Lots of sacrifices are made on its behalf, and our heartfelt investment does not come with an insurance policy.  It sure would be nice if it did, wouldn’t it? “OK, and sign on the line here stating that IF things should fall apart and your heart be broken you will have the opportunity to rewind time, avoid that pitfall, and start brand new with a partner of equal or greater value that will be provided to you.”  That sounds like a plan that we could all make affordable, right?

But love doesn’t work that way.  Because love mirrors faith, and faith requires trust in a power that is greater than us.  If you attempted to carry an insurance policy with you into a relationship, you would never find love.  No, you’re going to need to let go.  Love requires vulnerability.  You may not want to hear that, because if you’re like the majority of us, chances are that you’ve been burned once or twice before when you’ve allowed your heart to open up.  Perhaps your experience has left you guarded or downright terrified of ever giving love an opportunity in your life again.  Fear is a powerful thing; I know that far better than most.  It can be absolutely paralyzing, and one bad experience with a shattered heart can leave us determined to forfeit and abandon all new opportunities to embrace happiness and life’s greatest gift.

I’m a man that’s dealt actively with anxiety and panic disorder along with OCD for the past 10 years of my life.  I’ve experienced nearly every fear imaginable.  If there was a disease spoken about publicly, chances are that at some point in my life, I’ve convinced myself that I’ve had it.  I’ve been afraid to drive my car, walk to the mailbox, and even drag myself out of bed certain days with apprehension of the shakiness that I might feel in my body as I get up to walk.  I’ve abandoned outings with my friends as well as family get-togethers…I’ve even spent Thanksgiving alone as a result of fear.  I’ve found myself hopeless and on my knees with tears in my eyes praying to God to have mercy on me, time after time.  And I’ve faced bouts with agoraphobia stemming from truly a fear of, well, myself.  In my lowest points, I lost trust in my ability to function normally in the world I knew.  I became fearful that I would just break down one day and lose it all together.  I envisioned the worst, and I kept myself completely guarded from nearly everything around me.  I wanted to curl up in a ball and disengage from life.

But even with crippling fears presenting themselves to me at different points in my life, the one thing that I never gave up on was love.  Hard to imagine that even being possible considering some of the striking blows and heartache that I faced in my past, but it’s most certainly the truth.  Sure, I would hurt for awhile, but I never found myself discouraged or fearful of opening up my heart again.  Perhaps (along with my faith) my willing acceptance of that vulnerability has served as a buoy in my life.

If you believe in love and trust in God, you always have hope.  Because love can warm your heart.  It can pour into a failing body and breathe new air into its lungs.  Love can provide life to aching bones.  It can have an immediate impact on your mind and your overall well being.  You can experiment with every medicine a doctor can prescribe or even try your own natural remedies, but nothing will serve as a more powerful elixir than love.  And it can be taken at any dosage…a little spoonful of love might do the trick for some, but others may desire a heavier, more regular regimen.  There is no such thing as too much.  A heart full of love promotes a body graced with health and a life filled with prosperity.

I’ve never personally been able to get enough of it in my life.  You could hook me up to an IV of the “love elixir” and I’d probably still find myself desperately wanting more.  I’m sure that there are quite a few people who know me that would say that I’m crazy for that.  “After all that you’ve been through with relationships and heartache, why?”  The simple answer is, because I believe.  I believe in its power.  I know how a small spark can ignite a fire within that has the ability to illuminate the world.  I’ve felt firsthand how it can heal a wounded heart, an anxious mind, and a failing body.  And so love, or the idea of love, keeps me alive.  And I can’t wait until the day that it presents itself in my life again.

I know that it will arrive soon, and I will welcome it with open arms.  I will not fear but instead I will embrace.  Because on that day, I will know beyond a doubt that I have advanced to the peak of my recovery and transformation.  For the gift that I will receive will come from no other than the man upstairs as a celebration of all that’s taken place during the past year of my life.  And I will know that I have arrived.  Love will be my happy ending.

Jan 12

the attitude of gratitude

Have you ever heard of a gratitude list? This is a very simple but amazingly powerful exercise that has really helped me to facilitate a dramatic transformation in my life. Grab a pencil and paper and write up a list of all the things big and small that you have to be thankful in your life. If you’re feeling down, start with something basic, like having clean water to drink. Are you aware of just how much of a luxury that is? Unsafe water and lack of sanitation accounts for 80% of all illnesses worldwide! We are truly blessed to live in a country where we have unlimited access to life’s greatest resource.

Take your time and compose your list, and when you awake in the morning and retire to bed in the evening read it aloud back to yourself. Do this for a few weeks, and I promise you, your days will begin to look and feel brighter and brighter. When we give thanks for what we already have, we open the door for more goodness to flow into our lives.

Here is my list, perhaps this will help to get you started:

1. Faith and God’s support and forgiveness – the Lord Jesus Christ

2. My family’s unwavering commitment to my well being

3. My income and self sufficiency

4. A handful of true friends

5. My overall physical health – ability to be active

6. The seasons

7. Football as a hobby and a passion

8. The support network created by my blog

9. Second chances

10. Honest, genuine, kindhearted people who make my days brighter

11. My ability to openly communicate my feelings

12. Always being able to go home

13. UNC – Chapel Hill

14. Opportunities to persevere and grow

15. A clean and inviting living space

16. Life’s basic necessities: food to eat, clean water to drink and bathe, clothes to wear

17. Communication networks for staying in touch

18. Working from home and the flexibility it affords me

19. Phillies baseball

20. My great car

21. The lessons I’ve learned living life

22. Restful sleep

23. My education from a top five public university

24. Loyal friends and partners in business

25. A strong team of co-workers who support my efforts

26. Sunshine

27. Crisp fall air and the calming effect it has on me

28. My sharp mind and my ability to think analytically

29. Smiles and positive affirmation

30. Success stories – inspirational documentaries – The Secret

31. The outdoors and getting away – Camp

32. Holiday get-togethers

33. Being able to present myself attractively to women

34. Calm Clinic and other outlets/resources for battling anxiety

35. My grandmother’s continued strong physical health

36. Heroes – Josh Hamilton, Eric LeGrand, Tim Tebow

37. California – rising, falling, and rising to stand tall again

38. My resilient counterpart and most loyal friend, my cat Dixie

39. Comedy – movies that make me laugh

40. People who invest their time and resources in helping others, animals included

41. Feeling needed, being relied upon

42. The beach and the sounds of the ocean

43. Writing to save myself and in turn provide support to others

44. Pep talks – locker room speeches

45. PRAYER – the Bible

46. Unlocking renewed strength by disabling adversity

47. Dreams – hope

48. My eyes and the visual memories of places that I’ve been

49. Job security – strong sales numbers

50. My big, strong heart

51. A “Y” that is far greater than “x”

52. Miracles

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