Baby Man Grows Up

Once Upon a Time

noreply@blogger.com (louie rochon) — Sat, 28 Mar 2009 16:51:00 +0000

Last year, (2008), I thought it might be interesting to request from 'Good Dog' readers to submit a one page auto-biography of their lives, which I would publish in a series of Good Dog's, entitled 'Once Upon a Time.' I thought it only reasonable to do what I'd asked others to do - so I set out to right a one page bio.

A one page bio of my life ... that sounded easy enough. Was I ever in for a surprise! This was one of the most difficult and revealing personal growth exercizes that I'd ever attempted and yet at the same time, incredibly liberating. I've included, for the world to see (as usual) my inner workings, entitled "Once Upon a Time." I hope this encourages you to try it for yourself. Remember, one page.

“Once Upon a Time ...
... a normal rambunctious 4 year old boy, speaking only French, came to America with his parents. Life, as he knew it, dramatically changed overnight. One moment, relating to those around him, yet literally a plane ride away, surrounded by people that he could not understand and strange sights and sounds ... this little boy was petrified with fear, confused as to why his life made no sense anymore.

This early event, feeling very much alienated and alone, suffering from intense feelings of insecurity resulted in a lifetime pattern of fear, self doubt, feelings of worth-less-ness resulted in years of intense loneliness and eventually, self hate. Unconsciously, every future life event would be effected by this early emotional patterning.

Always coming from a foundation of fear, low self esteem and self hate, life seemed to alternate between two extremes; debilitating depression and self imposed isolation … “I’m not worthy of sharing life with those I see around me, I’m not good enough, I don’t fit in, I’m defective, worthless, useless … I hate myself, etc” … , or grandiose behavior, “Please, someone notice me, I exist and need to feel accepted, loved and appreciated.”

Over a lifetime, this little 'Boy-Man' tried everything to eliminate the pain of feeling 'terminally unique,' which resulted in countless addicitions (self medication), including compulsive overeating, alcohol, drugs, sex, workaholism, accumulating 'stuff' and geographic relocations inclusing a 3 year, 5000 mile walk across America. Yet no matter what he did or where he found himself - there he was.

These countless attempts to fill a void eventually resulted in looking in the one place he never thought to look … within ... towards God, as he had always misunderstood 'Him.' A lifetime of pain had brought this little boy (emotionally) to a place of absolute surrender and eventually over a long road of transparent discovery, to a deep peace, acceptance, forgiveness and eventually, self love. This is a process that goes on today and I anticipate, for the rest of my life.

Today, life is good, very good for this boy-man, filled with immense gratitude and appreciation of the abundance and infinite love that has always surrounded him, yet was always too afraid to see. Today, this boy-man continues to grow by opening his heart to life and dreams of a future life of usefulness, passion, purpose and love.

What has this boy-man learned in life? … That life is what we focus on. Heaven or Hell - It’s a personal choice. That we are never alone (unless we choose to be) and that any adversity in life can be transcended when working as a team, co creating with the God of our choice.

3.26.09
Louie Rochon aka 'Boy-Man-in training'

GOOD HEAD vs. BAD HEAD

noreply@blogger.com (louie rochon) — Wed, 03 Dec 2008 17:00:00 +0000

Once again, a letter from a new friend (Good Dog reader) reminds me of the self-healing powers of The Dog, without which I would be in serious trouble. I've included my anonymous friend's email and my response, which provides yet another glimpse into my manic-depression and the role that Good Dog plays in my emotional survival.

________________________________________________________________

12.02.08

Hi Louie,

I know that you don't know me. I am a psychotherapist in Colorado. I work with folks who are struggling with addiction and mental illness. But that's not important. What I wanted to say to you today IS important. THANK-YOU for today’s "Daily Good Dog". It is EXACTLY what I needed to read and remember today. I am going through some stressful medical stuff and this gentle reminder was the universes way of reminding to not take it all so seriously.

I also appreciate your humor. If more of my clients could access these qualities, they may find greater joy in life and I would probably be out of a job! I know that we all can be "our own best therapist" and it sounds like the Daily Dog is yours.

THANKS AGAIN.
xxxxxxx

________________________________________________________________

Hello xxxxxxx,

Seems to me that we have some things in common, specifically that we can help others with positive suggestions, 'gentle reminders' as you put it. That said, this does not make us immune from needing support for ourselves. Far from it. In fact, Good Dog was born of my mental illness and remains the single most effective remedy.

This particular series (GOOD HEAD vs. BAD HEAD; Emotional Survival in Trying Times) addresses my own mental health challenges as I'm currently experiencing an intensely painful cycle of depression with some annoying mania as a side dish - a very disturbing combo plate. Good Dog plays a critically important role in my recovery in times like these.

For people that are not struggling with mental illness, The Dog can help inspire and motivate. For me, it can literally be the difference between life and death. Similar to an alcoholic (oh, I have that one too) who must keep alcohol out of their system, manic-depressives must keep their moods somewhat stable through medication, exercise, nutrition and talk therapy ... and my Daily Good Dog Feeding. A little too far off balance one way of the other can plummet me into life threatening depression, hyper mania or worse - both at the same time.

I always write about what I need. My friends know exactly where my head is at by reading The Dog of the day. Sometimes this feels a little too exposed but I usually fight the urge to edit my feelings and just throw it out there. I am like a doctor that operates on his own head, creating and consuming his own medicine. Without my Daily Good Dog Feeding, I think I would implode into a ball of quivering emotional jello.

Putting out The Dog helps me to focus outside of myself, immersing myself in inspiring, life-affirming thoughts, some of the most powerful words ever written. This was the case with this current series about 'emotional survival.'

A Typical Good Dog Day …
Once a week, I decide, after prayer and meditation, and a whole lot of consternation, which topic will be explored (as I usually focus on a single topic for 5 days).

On a typical morning, I’ll spend 3-4 hours reading 500-600 quotes (on average) on dozens of topics that compliment the week's subject, selecting roughly 10-15% to consider. These 60-100 quotes are then read and re-read, sorted and re-sorted, until I pick the top 5-6 quotes for each day.

Obviously, after spending so much time each day, with my head totally enmeshed with the greatest minds in history, their words, their wisdom, eventually seep into the cracks of my head, soothing the depression and slowing the mania … for a while. This is why I put out the Dog, every day, as Good Dog, quite literally, saves my life.

It was nice hearing from you. I always appreciate your comments as they are so real. You must be a very good psychotherapist and your patients, blessed.

Please feel free to drop me a note from time to time. Messages like yours are manna for my soul.

Best wishes,

Louie Rochon

My Life is My Message

noreply@blogger.com (louie rochon) — Wed, 08 Oct 2008 16:10:00 +0000

Dear Good Dog Readers,

I feel incredibly blessed by writing and distributing the 'Daily Good Dog Feeding.' This work I do, has resulted in regaining genuine passion and purpose back into my life - a deep feeling of joy that can only come from believing that I am making a positive difference in the life of another person. There is no greater feeling. I am also blessed with the incredible healing power of all of you - the cummulative positive energy of thousands around the world - trying to the best of their abilities, to live their lives as if it is their message - which it is.

It's no easy task to ask for help when you're down. Recently, while going through a patch of insecurity, doubt and self pity, I chose to follow my own advice and ask for support, from my friends ... I sent out a plea to Good Dog readers all over the world ... and you responded, in mass. Thank You. Thank You, so very much, as Good Dog is now - back on top.

Every morning, before I start writing The Dog, I pray. Most days, I have no idea what I will write about. I wait, quietly, after I pray, for something to pop up in my head. Some days, I agonize in trying to find messages that feel 'right,' to put out there.

'Inspirations' come in many forms. Some days, they don't come at all. This morning, it came in the form of an email from a new Good Dog friend, Patty, in the foothills of the Appalachians in West Virginia. I'd like to share this letter with you. My response is below her letter.
_____________________________________________________

10/08/08

Hello there,

I just wanted to let you know how much of a difference your quotes that you send so graciously to each of us subscribed ......it really gives me insight to other areas where i would be blind or possibly not even consider......it lifts me up when i am feeling low......it encourages me when i am near to giving up or withdrawing to my own little world of "i can't make a difference anyway" .....and it provides a feeling of hope for an encouraging word each time i see your name in the email inbox.

You wrote of not being able to come up with a subject area in light of all going on in the world today, I imagine that has become harder and harder to do. I want to thank you for persevering and keeping the faith that the written word can inspire, can change lives, can help one through a day of rain and shadows into the light and rainbows that linger just to the edge of their vision. You are truly an inspiration …

I thought I'd offer up some help on some subject ideas : how about judgments (as in NOT doing so to others), quantum entanglement (where each of us and our actions affect another be it miles or oceans apart), the power of imagination or creativity, stigmatization and the need or inspiration for others to "walk a mile in another's shoes" first, or the wonderment of children and the inspiration they give us to keep trying to get some semblance of order/stability for their futures, the value of being "STILL" per say and listening to the moment and the intense power of silence, or the power of living a proactive life in all terms of the word or a self sufficient life and the rewards it offers (kind of a reap and sow type of scenario) ...

These are just some ideas that have come to me and I hope that you see that as helpful not "pushy" or in anyway saying that the quotes you send aren't PERFECTLY what i need ... just some ideas for i know coming up with new themes and quote has to be rather difficult ... so i just thought I'd help you out in light of the email where you spoke of having difficulty in such times of turmoil for our nation .... I DO thank you for keeping it UNPOLITICAL for goodness knows we get enough of that!!

Well, i hope you have a good day today and are inspired beyond your wildest dreams....your emails are a great shining light in a weary weary world …

One of my favorites is "so shines a good deed in a weary weary world" (R. Dahl "willy wonka")

Thanks for all you do for us all!!

Sincerely

ctrygirl, Patty

________________________________________________

Dear Patty,

Your kind words of encouragement were like a cool drink of water for a parched throat. Thank You.

Following my own advice, asking for support when I was down, resulted in an amazing number of emails from people from all over the world. These messages have helped drown-out Bad Dog's incessant barking, allowing Good Dog to be in control. I realize that Bad Dog is always there, waiting patiently on my other shoulder, till I drop my guard. Bad Dog loves to pounce on me and pin me down to the ground. I've learned that I must be diligent, using all my Good Dog tools if I want to stay ahead of the beast. Some days I forget and it doesn't take long to fall into that hole of depression and hopelessness. We humans are a fragile species, aren't we.

In trying times like these, it's especially important that I immerse myself in positive self talk (Good Dog) as it is far too easy to fall victim to fear, despair, panic and paralysis. Even 'intellectually' realizing that this kind of thinking is self destructive and serves no useful purpose, it often feels impossible to avoid this pathetic 'stinkin thinkin.'

You know what ... today, I chose NOT to allow myself to sink into that inner hell. Gandhi said, "My life is my message." These are big words to live up to, but I believe in them. I believe there is very little I can do to change the world, but I also strongly believe that we, as individuals have virtually unlimited power to effect change, by changing our own attitudes and subsequent actions. I mean, come on, what's the alternative! Today, at least this very moment, I focus on my own quotes and go out there, to the best of my ability, and live these words of encouragement.

There is so much negativity out there. It's easy to feel overwhelmed and dis-empowered. This is one reason why I have felt compelled to work on this series entitled, "EMPOWER." This is my offering and within these words, I can choose to use them as a road map of sorts, a fuel source to EMPOWER me down the road today. It's hard work to follow this path, this road less traveled, but it is the 'easier softer' way, for me.

I am NOT a religious man. I am a spiritual man and I do believe in God. I have intentionally chosen to avoid politics and religion (God knows, there is plenty of that out there). Every morning, I ask that God use me to bring some good into the world and to show me what to say. I see my role as collecting and publishing His message of hope and encouragement. These are not my quotes, but a collection of wise words from some of the greatest minds in human history. I simply follow these God-nudges and act on them. Many days, this is no easy task.

That said, I will share with you, my favorite prayer. I've underlined my favorite part...

"God, I offer myself to thee, to build with me and do with me as thou wilt. Relieve me of the bondage of self, that I may better do thy will. Take away my difficulties that victory over them may bear witness to Thy Power, Thy Love and Thy Way of Life. May I do Thy will always."

Thanks again, Patty, for your encouragement as well as the great suggestions for future topics. I will use them - they are very good.

God Bless Us All,

Louie

One Woman's Journey Through Hell - Depression.

noreply@blogger.com (louie rochon) — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 15:23:00 +0000

I receive a lot of emails from people regarding mental health issues. Most of them come from friends and family of those affected with mental health issues. Many people just don't understand why their friend/family member don't want to help themselves. I try and share with them, through some of my blogs, occasional stories that may offer a glimpse into the lives of those that are struggling to survive.

I get many personal stories from people describing incredible suffering from mental illness - individual accounts of good people that are sick, trudging a path through hell, trying to survive. This particular story, to me, personafies this 'fight for life' that millions of people silently deal with, hiding from the misunderstanding and shame that is still quite prevalent in society today.

My friend agreed to let me share her story as long I change names. I offer to you, my new friend's story and my response to her letter.

________________________________

Thank you Louie, for adding me to Good Dog Feedings. I discovered you by accident, or perhaps I was led there, on Everydayhealth.com. I wanted to start journaling what I was eating to see if I saw a connection with my emotions. And I immediately discovered the discussion groups for Bipolar.

I was only diagnosed two years ago after telling everyone what was wrong with me for 8 years. It started with horrible panic attacks in the middle of the night at the height of my career at a French Bank (I lived in Paris for about 5 years). It became so bad that I quit my job, sold my house, and moved to the beach because I thought reducing stress would help. Well it didn't, but I still didn't know what it was.

Then I met the love of my life, xxxxx, who took lithium everyday and led a normal life. He saw the signs in me right away, and he shared with me how he was in a mental hospital for a year and had shock treatments. It scared me to think I had the same thing. DENIAL

Then, four years ago, xxxxx died very suddenly of a massive heart attack, and boy did things ever start crashing for me!!! Two weeks after his funeral, I was at home alone, and I got drunk, fell down the stairs and broke 2 vertebra in my back. 6 months in a body cast, couldn't work, couldn't drive, no more money after all of xxxxx's and then my hospital expenses. Well, I tried to commit suicide, and ended up in the hospital for 3 days. They still were just telling me I was depressed which seemed justified after losing xxxxx. Two years later, I thought suicide was the only solution AGAIN. But just ended back up in the hospital. But finally, they took me seriously and tried lithium on me.

Wow, things really got better, and all my friends were amazed.

Now, guess what I've done... yep, classic, I know... I stopped taking my meds. And in the last four months, I've successfully alienated the few friends I had left and lost 2 jobs.

HOWEVER, I'm now aware I need those meds, and I went to the clinic yesterday to get back on. It'll be Sept. 3 before I get to see the doctor, and the days are agozing right now. The panic attacks have returned which I really have a hard time with. I live alone, no family, only 2 friends who don't live in town. Not a good scenario for me.

So, to finish this LONG story, I'm grateful to be receiving your Good Dog communication because I need it right now.

Thanks for listening,
Xxxxxx
________________________________________________________________

My response ...

Dear Xxxxx,

Thank you so much for sharing your story. I totally understand you. It takes someone who has walked through hell to understand hell ... I've been there, only the details are different.

I admire your will to live ... your strength and courage. You are probably not feeling that way about yourself right now. That is why it's often helpful to get a fresh perspective of yourself. You see, without a will to live, to want to feel alive again, you would not have gone to that site, or read the BiPolar postings or eventually been led to a new friend that you will probably never meet but understands you completely. Nahhh, probably just a coincidence. Just kidding, lighten up.

I'm not sure if you've read my details (see Bio link below) and I write a lot about my BP disorder in blogs (see link below). This writing, as well as the Daily Good Dog Feeding helps put me in touch with many people from all over the world, like yourself. This is part of the healing for me. I have learned that cannot be stuck in me and be trying to help another, at the same time. Can't do it!

I write a lot, because it purges the poison in my head and heart. I do 'The Dog' because it replaces that void with positive thoughts which always lead to positive emotions, that without intentional efforts, would leave me in the emotional gutter.

My disease wants me dead. I take this assault very personal as my disease attacks me on all fronts ... mind, body and spirit. Over the past three years, since my last suicidal moment, I've adopted many new techniques - found a good psych doc, supplements (including high doses of Omega 3 Oils and Vitamin C), talk therapy, and working out a little.

Three years ago, I could barely function - I mean BARELY climb out of bed, brush my teeth, etc. I was obsessed with thoughts about dying. I didn't really want to die - I was just so scared and hurting and desperately wanted the pain to end ... it was if I was on fire, running around trying to find something to put out the flames. That 'something' included all the usual emotional fire retardants (food, sex, sugar, alcohol, drugs, relationships/hostages, shopping, working, geographic moves, etc.).

God I wish I could tell you that I found relief overnight - it didn't, but IT DID, eventually. It started getting better that dark night, the minute I hit my knees and pleaded with the God of My Misunderstanding. One thing after another started happening - Good Dog being one of the first miracles with many others to follow. Slowly but surely, I started to feel better. I don't want to give you the wrong idea - I do not walk around in this white light bliss, not even close! I do, however, for the most part, feel pretty damned good about myself. The incredible depression and debilitating anxiety and depression have lifted. It takes work, every day, but please believe me when I tell you - there is hope.

You can feel good again. There are many people out there, like the site you found me on at Everyday Health.com/BiPolar Support Forum ... http://www.everydayhealth.com/cs/forums/44/ShowForum.aspx ... that have some really great people that are pretty consistent in showing up; loving, understanding people that know what you are feeling and are willing to be there for you and you can be there for them.

You need not be alone anymore, starting right now. You now have a new friend in me. I will reach out to you, every day, 7 days a week, with a new Daily Good Dog Feeding. Watch for me in your in-basket as I'll be there for for you, in word and spirit. Don't EVER give up on yourself. You will find peace and happiness again and then I hope, you will Pay it Forward. Only in Giving it Away, can you keep it. You can start that right NOW ... you can go to that site and lay out your heart and just watch what happens - get involved in your recovery - when someone else reaches out, be there for them and soon, you will be writing to me again, telling me how you are a new person. I KNOW this will happen for you, if you are willing to take that first step.

I would also recommend that you check out 'Power of Now' by Eckhart Tolle - this book literally saved my life, a few times.

Bye for now. Your fellow Good Dog Seeker,

Louie Rochon

Codepency from Both Sides of the Fence

noreply@blogger.com (louie rochon) — Tue, 15 Apr 2008 17:50:00 +0000

The following is a response to a letter I received from a new friend concerned about dealing with her fiance's mental illness (Bi-Polar). This brought up some thoughts about codependency and Alanon which I wanted to share in my Blog.

Dear ______,

I never thought I had codependency issues, until my own son was having trouble and I was obsessed trying to help solve HIS problems. Obsessed, in that I could not stop thinking, worrying or talking about him. It was NOT acceptable to allow these problems to be happening in HIS life, yet the harsh reality was that it was HIS life and HIS problems.

I also learned that the more I tried to help, the more I allowed him to stay sick, actually enabling him to be sick a little longer. This is the hardest part ... not beating yourself up for realizing that you were actually part of the problem and held him back from HIS own recovery. I fight the guilt all the time, even with the total understanding that I was simply doing the best I could at the time. I know better now. Does it make it any easier - NO.

As I write to you, my stomach is just sick with worry about him, my 21 year old son, who is facing some real issues - having just dropped his last class in college, lost his girlfriend, scared to death of the world and has started drinking to self medicate his pain away. I have SO been there. From the support of many other people that have 'been there' I now understand what I need to do, or better said - not do.

I can be there for him. I can love him. I can assist him, IF he wants to work with the solution and try more approaches for HIS recovery. I can set healthy boundaries for myself. As I withdraw, with love, he sees that if there is going to be relief from his situation, HE is going to have to take the necessay steps - HE has to initiate the action. If he said, "Dad, I need help," and was willing to do the work, I'd get in the car and be there the next day to take him to an AA meeting. I can help him to help himself, but I can't, I won't be the object of his dysfuctional decisions and sick reactions to his disease.

My girlfriend, thank God, is a fellow Bi-Polar II club member. When I first met her, for 6 months, she politely listened to my woes as I suffered (genuinelly suffered) from depression and mania. She was sympathetic and supportive. She was a great listener. She shared openly about her disease and more importantly, her own recovery. She was the only light in a very dark tunnel for me. One day, that light went out.

After 6 months of listening to me describe my never-ending pain, she had had enough, and told me so, not in an angry way, more like an assertive confidant way. She told me that she didn't want to hear another word about my disease, but would listen forever about my recovery. She told me that there were many things I could do FOR myself, if I wanted to. She suggested, as she had on numerous occasions, nutrition, diet, excerize, counseling and working with different meds and docs, if necessary.

I was only taking my meds. I was stuck. I didn't realize it at the moment, but she was UN-sticking me at that very moment.

At first, I felt anandoned, scared and very alone. The pain got worse as I isolated even more. Eventually, since there was no one else to talk to about my condition, I realized that if anything was going to get better, I would have to step up to the plate and do SOMETHING? I wasn't sure, actually I knew exactly what I needed to do - all of the things she had suggested, BUT ... I was scared and I felt like I couldn't do anything to help myself. Depression can rob you of confidence and energy, but I had to try. I was dying.

It was definetely baby steps to start with, a handful of vitamins, a couple walks, a few glasses of water, a call to my Pdoc to talk about my meds and alternatives. Later, fueled by my own actions and the self-confidence that was building within, I added some more exercize, better nutrition, Omega 3 Oils, looking for a therapist and have even joined the local gym. I have learned that even though this disease is a life-threatening, powerful evil force that attacks me on all fronts; mind, body and spirit - it can be fought and recovery/remission is possible ... but it is hard work!

These days, feeling pretty good most of the time (and that can change dramatically from day to day), me and my girlfriend are very happy ... yet, she still won't listen to my crap for very long. This is good for me. This allows me to take control of my problems, my life and build self esteem and self confidence as I do.

One more word about Alanon ... it is possible that he might be threatened by your attending. I know I was when my ex wife started attending. I was always wondering what they were talking about - was she complaining about me? Was she getting strength and support to leave me? I watched, as she got stronger with more meetings, she was pulling away from babysitting me. This was threatening to me. But I learned the same lesson back then ... to help support me, but it was up to me to help myself.

She was dying - slowly dying and had had enough. I sure don't blame her. Her pulling away, helped me to finally hit bottom and get help, 25 years ago, into an alcohol treatment facility and decades of AA. I would, for many years afterward, take other hostages (relationships) to fill the role of babysitter. It is fairly common for addictive personalities to buddy up with codependent types - it's a perfect match (self absorbed addictive mess with a giving, loving, supportive codependent mate).

I have been on both sides of the fence now. This is why I so strongly recommend Alanon, for the addict and the mate/friend/family member.

I would also suggest that you try a few different Alanon meetings till you find one that fits. Some are *** sessions, with angry complaining spouses, friends or family. Most are not, but if you wind up at one where it is all negative - it can drive you away. I'd suggest you do that - drive away until you find one of the many wonderful, supportive groups. Keep looking till you find the right one. You'll know when you find them.

Hope this was helpful.

God Bless Us All.

Louie (uswalker) http://rochonsculpture.artspan.com/mbr_bio.php

"Blowing,' a letter to a friend

noreply@blogger.com (louie rochon) — Sun, 13 Apr 2008 16:09:00 +0000

I received an email from a new friend from the Bi-Polar Disorder support site that I belong to. She does not suffer from Bi-Polar (manic depression) but her fiance does and she is desperate to try and find some solutions to a dysfunctional relationship. My response revealed some insights for me, so thought I'd cut and paste this exchange into my blog ... here it is ...

Dear ______,

Thought I'd respond to your email on this site as a post so that it may trigger other responses, as well. I have included (in italics) the highlights of your email, followed by my thoughts. Hope this helps...

… my fiance is bipolar and so is his teenage daughter. I love them both
dearly, but they fight constantly, and sometimes living with them is like living
in a black hole, if that makes sense ... It's not all bad, but when it's bad
it's really bad. I come from a history of abusive relationships and I think I
suffer from PTSD along with my depression and anxiety. I want to make it "all
better". I make sure everything is in its place when he comes home, and stay out
of their fights, but I just never know what to expect.

I don't know if this question is appropriate or not, but when you
are in one of your episodes (for lack of a better word), is there anything that
anyone can do to pull you up and ease the pain? I would do anything for this
man, but some days I can't do anything right. I don't want to give up on him,
and do my best to lift him up, but I fear my best isn't good enough.

He gets in a terrible rage, and just seems so angry it scares me.
Sometimes it's over nothing, and sometimes his daughter will trigger him. The
rage lasts a few hours, sometimes longer, followed by a depression that can last
days. During these episodes he will often tell me that he is better off alone,
and that our relationship will never work out. Other times he loves me, and I
can see that he does, but ...

He has tried many medications, and is taking risperdal now. He
recognizes he has a problem, but feels helpless to fight it ...

Your honest opinion would mean the world to me, because like any
affliction, only one who has been there knows.

Dear ____, please remember that I am not a trained professional and all that I can share is my own personal experience, strength and hope. That said, I will honesty share with you, to the best of my ability, what it was like for me and why(from what I have learned so far).

The rage! My daily routine, for many, many years was to wake up with absolute dread, followed by fear, fear of how I would make it through the day, to hide my depression, my insanity, my 'terminal uniqueness' from the world. This would fill me with a high level of anxiety which would stay with me all day, like I was running full speed on a treadmill that I couldn't get off. This walking lie, this false life took an incredible amount of energy to maintain.

By the time I got home, to a place where I felt safe ... (unfortunately, that was around the one's that loved me most) ... not able to maintain 'the lie' for one more second, I would relax my guard, my facade, and I'd BLOW at the very first opportunity and if there wasn't one offered to me, I'd make one happen. The excuses for my "Self Justified Emotional Explosions" could be anything from the laundry not being folded right, to dinner not being ready ... all insignificant things, yet offering an ignition source.

To try and explain the inner firestorm that went on in my brain ... imagine that you had a really bad, itchy rash all over your body and no matter what you did, it tormented you. You could get through your day, even though it was terribly uncomfortable, but it wore you out, utterly and completely wore you out. The first chance you got when you got home, away from society, you would scream!

Blowing is screaming, as unfair as it is, it is screaming in pain to try and feel better, and there is never any relief. This is the truly maddening part - the lack of hope, when faith and hope is gone, this creates hell locked within your mind, a pressure cooker with no way out, just endless mental torture. Yes, there is a lot of pressure to 'Blow Out' and if you are there, it is not pleasant and there is no way of figuring out when we will blow or how hard. There is nothing you can do to avoid it or lessen the probability or severity of the 'Blow Out.'

'Blowing' was an excuse for me to let out my frustration, raging at my fear of not knowing whether I was going to be able to maintain sanity and function in the world. This was, perhaps, one of my greatest fears ... the idea that one day I would just crumple up into a ball of emotional goo, staring at a wall and they will come and put me away. Terrifying, especially at times when you are so close to that edge that the possibility becomes real, in your head.

'Blowing' was a way to try and purge the self hate for being 'mentally ill', (a label that made me feel embarrassed and humiliated), for not being able to 'buck up' and get better. I looked at myself as a miserable loser, weak and undeserving to live, pathetic, defective and utterly useless.

In my active sickness, I believed that others around me, that loved me, would be better off without me, yet I needed them. There was the conflict. One on hand I needed their love and support, yet on the other, I had such a terrible opinion of myself, filled with such self hate and disgust, that it made me feel even worse to 'use them' as I felt I had nothing to offer, only taking. This guilt turned into shame, yet I needed and genuinely loved them. My relationships turned into hostages rather than loving exchanges ... I had, I believed, nothing to offer, only suck from them and this made me feel even worse about myself. I could not love, it was everything I could do - to survive ... it all had to be about me!

I remember reading the relationship section in Scott Peck's book, 'A Road Less Traveled' that if the subconscious mind despises your self, then, even though there may be real love present, the sub conscious mind must win, providing self talk like "You are such a loser, a useless pathetic loser and you will always be that way," and "If you really loved her, you would cut her loose" and eventually "There must be something wrong with her if she wants to be with me, maybe it's time to dump her ass." The last was the eventual trick to justify ending the relationship, to end the guilt.

OK, this is how I felt and still do from time to time. What can you do about it? Nothing. The only thing you can do is take care of you! I would recommend a couple things ...

1. Read 'The Power of Now' by Eckhart Tolle. This will give you an incredible strength to remain in the present (focusing on the pain free NOW as opposed to the constant fear based future). Especially the chapter 'From Addictive to Enlightened Relationships.'

2. Start attending 'ALANON' support groups. The only requirement for membership is that you know of 'someone' that may have a drinking problem. Read between the lines ... it's all the same, it's always all about YOU ... how do you function in a dysfunctional relationship, how do you stay strong, healthy and happy IN-SPITE of a dysfunctional partner, how do you provide strength and real support for a dysfunctional partner, and how do you set reasonable boundaries for yourself, your sanity and well being - even happiness in the face of a dysfunctional relationship.
When you take care of yourself, everything gets better. That old adage "You can't fix anyone but yourself" is true ... and I would suggest that you are as sick as he is ... this is normally the case ... as you have developed sick ways of dealing with life by reacting to your dysfunctional partner. In essence, you are part of the problem ... it's time you get strong, regain your power and by example, it may give strength and hope to the suffering partner. You may lead him, by your example, out of the darkness.
These are my thoughts. Hope they help.
Louie (uswalker)

Helping a Fallen Friend Get Up

noreply@blogger.com (louie rochon) — Thu, 28 Feb 2008 15:58:00 +0000

When I created today's 'Daily Good Dog Feeding,' I thought of a friend of mine that has been kind of down. I wrote her a note and thought it expressed a lot of how I believe so ... here it is in my blog (name changed). I've included the entire email message (including the daily good dog message, as I think it all ties together).

Dear Jane,

This Good Dog's for you. I've written a few things to you after the messages.
Be kind to Jane today. There are a lot of us who love her.
Louie

Waking Up!
Is It Time to Make Some Changes?
Part Four of Five

It is your turn now,
you waited, you were patient.

The time has come,
for us to polish you.

We will transform your inner pearl
into a house of fire.

You're a gold mine.

Did you know that,
hidden in the dirt of the earth?

It is your turn now,
to be placed in fire.

Let us cremate your impurities.

Rumi

“What would it be like if you lived each day, each breath, as a work of art in
progress? Imagine that you are a Masterpiece unfolding, every second of every
day, a work of art taking form with every breath.”
Thomas Crum

“What we are here to do is to meet and become the person we
are.“
Andrew Harvey from Dialogues With a Modern Mystic

“And let me remind you, it is a pure journey.
Life is a pilgrimage to
nowhere -- from nowhere to nowhere.
And between these two nowheres
is
the now-here.
Nowhere consists of two words: now, here.
Between these
two nowheres is the now-here.”
Osho

Dear Jane,

I could so relate to what you shared with me yesterday. I have spent my whole lifetime feeling hopeless and terminally unique with little to no self esteem, tormented with insecurities and self medicating with anything that would help me to forget, me. I don't feel that way these days. This didn't happen overnight, but knowing what I now know, I could have, saving me decades of suffering. Good Dog is a powerful example of what I am talking about.

All the tools, prayer, meditation, fellowship, books, etc., couldn't help put poor broken humpty dumpty back together again. I believe prayer opened the door for a miracle, but I would learn it is up to me to make the changes I wanted so desperately. I wanted, and needed change yet felt hopeless and was too afraid of the process. I would justify my inaction with inner thoughts like, "I'm not worth the effort,' "I'm useless, worth-less." and "Why bother trying? Nothing ever really changes and life is just pure shit." This was my world, for most of my life. I am only now discovering some answers thru the process of writing my book "A Long Walk Home" about the cross country walk (actually it is about lifelong depression, specifically manic depression).

I believe we can all change into whatever it is that we want to change into. That said, I also believe that we are perfect, and I mean perfect, RIGHT NOW. Everything that we could possible ever desire in life, is right here, right now. Look around you. Take a good hard look. No wonder we all search frantically, our whole lives, yet can't find happiness - it's hiding right in front of us, all around us. Eckhart Tolle helped lay the foundation of my new belief system (The Power of Now), teaching me that bliss is here and now, in this present moment (notice the last Good Dog message). This became a way of life, showing me the real serenity and peace of mind that exists for all of us, right here and now.

It is all about acceptance of the present moment, without expectation. Life is good, calm, peaceful right here and now, pain-free, even for you, right here, right now. What is so painful, this very second, as you read my letter to you? Nothing! You, if you choose to be present, can feel the love and compassion of one person for another, and there are so many more 'invisible' people that surround us every moment of every day. What's painful about that? Nothing. I used the word 'invisible' as your friends and loved ones, and future friends and loved ones, might as well be invisible as we walk around stuck in our pain and suffering, totally oblivious to all that is good and wonderful, focused intently and exclusively on our problems and petty plans for altering our present situation into something that will make us happy - which of course, can never happen.

The minute you think of your perception of your life situation, it is easy to immediately plummet back into the depth of emotional hell, either regretting the past or being forever stuck visualizing a better future, a better now in the future, a plan for self salvation somewhere ahead of us - a fantasy.

The only time and place we can be happy, is right here, right now. So, I can say to you, my friend, be happy, feel some peace of mind, if only for the 3 minutes it takes you to read this letter of loving support. Then, if you choose, take this Good Dog approach out into the world with you, become "AWAKE" (notice the headline to this series of Dogs) and avail yourself to the present moment which is overflowing with beauty, just for you. You can change you life situation, but the only way you can is in the present moment. Accept. Then make your grand plans BUT please don't fprget to enjoy the ride. It's the only one you get and it IS rich and beautiful. Take out your gratitude list (WHAT, no updated gratitude list)?

Come alive, in the present. Make plans for change, in the present, if you wish. Make changes, in the present, if you wish. Find peace of mind, love, serenity and the joy of living, in the present, if you wish.

God Bless Us All.

Louie

ABOUT 'Daily Good Dog Feedings'

A friend shared a story with me about a meeting he once had with a Native American elder. This story had a great impact on me. The elder told my friend that his people believe that we all have, within us, a 'Good Dog' and a 'Bad Dog,' that are always fighting to be in control. My friend asked, "Which One Wins?"
The elder simply replied, "The One That You Feed."
_______________________

I started researching and sending out a daily inspirational message to my son as well as to reinforce the 'Good Dog' in me. Thinking my friends might find it of value, I added some people. Soon, it took on a life of it's own. This simple story, from my friend, has grown into something that has greatly improved the quality of my life and from what I hear, from people from all over the planet. What a blessing.
Want to be added to the list? Email me ...

uswalker3@hotmail.com

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Louie Links . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
ART WORKS in Progress: http://picasaweb.google.com/uswalker/EarthMANTheSculpture
(revised) BIO and WEB Site: http://rochonsculpture.artspan.com/mbr_bio.php
PICTURES: http://picasaweb.google.com/uswalker
(revised) BLOG: http://www.uswalker3.blogspot.com/

How Do You Help Those With Depression?

noreply@blogger.com (louie rochon) — Fri, 22 Feb 2008 16:44:00 +0000

I received an email from a man, living somewhere in Europe, that had picked up my name in one of the sites that I post on for mental illness (there are four I routinely visit and post for my own sanity and support as well as to spread hope and inspiration to others). Thought I'd share some of this letter and my response. I get so many letters/emails from frustrated loving caring people that are desperate to find help for their loved ones with undiagnosed (or diagnosed, untreated) mental illness. I hope this provides some helpful suggestions. It's hard NOT to take it personally but you must take care of yourself first (addressed further on).

Dear Louie,

Thank you so much for your insights on your coping with bp2. (BiPolar II). The letter that you posted on a message board and your blog have been the most touching information I have ever found from a man having bipolar disorder. I will print it out and keep it with me so that it will remind me everytime I feel low in thinking about my friend who has bp.

I hope you are well despite the ups and downs but you seem to have an amazing positive attitude and a gift of touching many hearts with bringing your inner awareness.

Louie, may I ask you some advice?
I am struggling with my female friend who is 52 years old. We had an amazing time and liked each other so much. Then I noticed she went manic (bp2 hypomania) and after that crashed into depression. She cut me off completely and wrote to me that she wanted to stop and went into hiding, she confessed to me. I did mail her occasionaly with comforting words. And for her birthday I left her a present on her doorstep. Her reaction was furious with anger and told me to STOP contacting her. Her words were even threatening. She was probably in her worst state but I do know she goes to work everyday and has some anger problems there as well from what i heard.

...Is there anything you may suggest me doing like sending another email or perhaps letter? Should I bring the matter up? You write in your messages to not give up but I do not know what to do or if it it wise to contact cause he said no contact. As a bp what would you have liked from your friend to do or should I do nothing? I care for her and do not like it to be over although I am willing to let her go forever if that would be best. I find it hard not to take it personally.

Thank you Louie for your time reading this and I wish you peace and happiness.

Warm regards,

Mr. Anonymous

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Hello ________,

Lots of BIG issues here, and uncertainty. Where do we start? First of all, the obvious ... I am not a professional counselor. I AM however, a very experienced survivor of manic depression (BiPolar disorder, II). I'll give your concerns a shot ....

1. Is your friend self medicating? Alcohol or drugs?

2. I am very outspoken and transparent about my lifetime path of mental illness. I write extensively about it in my Blogs, BIO and postings on 4 mental illness sites. This helps my recovery and apparently helps others to find some relief and recovery from their disease as well. Please feel free to read some of the links below (BIO, then some BLOGS, if you'd like).

BIO: http://rochonsculpture.artspan.com/mbr_bio.php

BLOGS: http://www.uswalker3.blogspot.com/

Some people have sent my BIO to their friends/family and it has resulted in them (the person suffering from the yet undiagnosed disease) to relate with my story. Sometimes this gives them self-permission to explore it more honestly for themselves, without the usual guilt and shame we feel about being 'defective, broken, dirty.'

I NOW know, of course, that we are not defective, lacking in moral or spiritual character, and that we have a disease, a treatable disease. I would suggest that this one aspect of mental illness, the stigma, holds more people back from getting help than anything else, maybe even guessing that it results in most suicides. I've so been there before, a number of times. I can't speak for others, but I can sure tell you that I felt ashamed and embarassed, not to mention feeling all of the symptoms of the disease itself - overwhelmed, dramatic up and down mood swings and horrendous depression. I had such tunnel vision, I felt like the only thing I could see in my world was what was directly in front of me, distorted through a long dark grey tunnel.

Isolating and self medicating were my solutions. I hung on to my dirty little secret for decades, using alcohol, food, drugs, cigarettes, workaholism, and the list goes on and on. It took a long time, a life time, before I could/would reach out for help. I had to 'reach bottom,' before I would have the strength to be direct enough and take the risks necessary for me to get help. I hit rock bottom, a number of times; hell, I used to bounce all over the bottom. Eventually, as you will read in my BIO, I found help, but even that road to recovery was filled with potholes and self constructed barriers. It takes what it takes, I guess.

All we can do is move forward from where we are right now. I am always willing to talk with someone that wants help. But it's important that whoever it is that wants help, comes to me. I don't ever want to violate a persons trust or space. I know, all to well, how critically important that space can be, for their perceived survival.

To self educate yourself, another site I would highly recommend, which is very good, is ...

http://www.psycheducation.org/depression/quick%20summary.htm ...

Check it out. The doctor that mantains this site is an expert in BiPolar

disorders and doesn't talk down to you ... very informative.

Also, I write a daily inspirational emailing entitled "Daily Good Dog Feeding," and would be happy to add you to that daily mailing, if you'd like. Often, forwarding them to people like your friend is a friendly way of introducing me (my candid intimate story of mental illness) to them, without getting right into their face. Let me know, if you'd like me to add you to the list?

Email me directly and ask to be added to "Daily Good Dog Feedings."

uswalker3@hotmail.com

One more thing ... I'd challenge you to look at YOUR intentions in all this. You had mentioned that it's hard NOT to take this personally. I think it's very important that you take care of yourself. I KNOW, for a fact, that it seemed like the people that were attracted to me, where the co-dependent type. I loved them. I needed them. They made it OK for me to be sick and stay sick ... and they would always be there for me, I thought. Wrong!

Eventually my subconscious mind, my mental illness disease would have to win out and end the relationship, push the other person out of my life for one of two reasons .... 1) because I had enough decency to end it because I cared about whoever it was and knew I would take them down and/or 2) I would lose respect for them; the old WC Fields quote, "I would never belong to a club that would have me as a member,' mentality.

I'd highly recommend 'Alanon' for YOU, to get the support you will need. It's a great program and is in everry country in the world. It helped me a great deal to help my own son with his alcohol addiction and depression. It helps you to detach with love and be stronger for them and yourself.

What else can you do? Pray. Ask the God of your understanding, for help. He will be there for you and your friend.

God Bless Us All.

Louie R (uswalker)

Daily GOOD DOG Feedings - The Story

noreply@blogger.com (louie rochon) — Sun, 17 Feb 2008 04:15:00 +0000

It is one of those stories that can change your life, forever, igniting a spark of hope and offering up a powerfully effective yet simple technique. The story of the Good Dog has changed my life forever and as you will see, the lives of many others around the world.

The Story of how 'Daily Good Dog Feedings' Started.

Often, when I'm suffering from my mental illness, (Bi-Polar II), mania and depression, when hope fades into desperation, I pray, No, I plead with God to listen to hear me, to help relieve me of my suffering ... yet, I hear nothing but that maddeing silence.

This story is about how God answered my pleading prayer, not only giving me hope and strength but also giving me the idea of lighting a single candle that has already lit thousands of other's candles all over this planet, providing a little daily flicker of hope that others can light their own candles and find their way out of the dark.

Ok, back to the story ... sorry, I do get a bit manic when I write ...

About a year ago, I was undergoing a particularly bad bout of debilitating depression, hiding it from those around me, as usual, while dying inside. I was at an alcohol support meeting when someone shared a simple story. My life has never been the same since then.

Funny how there are times, when you hear something that sticks, that becomes a permanent foundation on which you can rebuild your entire life. Perhaps I was at a place in my life that I was worn out and ready to listen. That day, God answered my pleading prayer, through one guy, that I had not seen before or since that meeting, one of my angels - there have been many!

Finally ... The Story that Changed My Life, Forever ...

ABOUT 'Daily Good Dog Feedings'

A Native American Elder told a story about his people believe that we all have, within us, a 'Good Dog' and a 'Bad Dog,' that are always fighting to be in control.

My friend asked him, "Which One Wins?"

The elder simply replied, "The One That You Feed."

My anonymous angel shared that story with me in January of 2007. At the time of hearing it, I thought, "Cool story, after 20 years around this place, it's amazing to hear something I've never heard before." That was it, just a simple story that I thought was pretty cool. I filed it into my brain with all the other clutter accumulated from 54 years of mostly useless thinking and went about trying to survive another day of my life.

That very next morning (mornings are the hardest time for my depression) I seemed to be especially aware of my thoughts. I watched as my mind instantly went towards fear, dread and self hate; it's as if I was watching myself watching myself and condemning myself.

My depression, especially when mixed with extreme mania at the same time, can cause me to feel disconnected, totally fragmented from my-self (whatever self is) and the rest of the world. That morning was especially harsh, feeling as I was hovering over myself, watching this pathetic human parasite in that dirty bathrobe smoking a cigarette and filled with hate and disgust and anguish of feeling so alone. I was angry at God for feeling like such a victim for having to endure this kind of pain. You get the picture ... it was a pretty typical morning for me.

Normally, it would take a full pot of coffee and a 1/2 pack of smokes before I could start making a meager plan for coping through the day. This was my life, trying to figure out how I could hide from everyone around me, for an entire day, pretending like I was normal, until I could close the door to my room, alone, put on my dirty bathrobe and finally, feel a sense of relief in closing off the world, until morning. And it would start over again.

Every single morning, day after painful day, it would start over again like a perverted mentally ill version of 'Groundhogs Day.' This was, my life. But this morning was a morning unlike any other morning I had ever experienced. This morning something would change my life forever ... back to the story ...

That January morning, slumped in a chair, sucking coffee and cigs in my dirty bathrobe, suddenly a thought, a clear thought (that's a novelty in and of itelf) came to mind. The story of the 'Good Dog vs. Bad Dog' popped into my foggy little mind as well as the words of Eckhart Tolle.

Eckhart Tolle's The Power of Now, which I had studied for years trying desperately to find relief, asserts that ... Emotions are Caused by Our Thoughts and Our Thoughts come from What We Think and What We Think is Determined by What We CHOOSE to Think!

That's what God was telling me through my angel and his story of the Dog, and through my memories of the words of Tolle ... that I have the power of choice of how I feel. "Oh Sure I do," I thought, "Right!."

"OK," I thought, "I'll give this a try. Like what do I have to lose?" At first, trying to think of something positive when I had grown morbidly accustomed to the gloom and doom of endless years of depression, seemed impossible. Yet the concept of the Dog made so much sense to me. I had to reach for some hope. I was watching myself die.

I forced myself to make a mental 'Gratitude List,' something I had done over the years with success, when I remembered to do it. It was like trying to turn around the Titanic, after it had sunk, but I tried, God knows I tried to think of things that I was grateful for, yet I was filled with such self hate, fear, rage, and fragmented thinking, gratitudes just wouldn't come. After a few minutes of pointing my head in one direction with one pointed intention, I did manage to scribble down a few things I was grateful for. I was really surprised at how difficult it was. 'Normies' may not understand just what a dark tunnel vision you have when trying to be invisible and survive. It takes all of your concentration, a rare commodity in the first place.

Within minutes, I noticed that my depression was 'different' ... not as overwhelming, still there and very powerful, but not taking me over completely. I had managed to alter my mood, slightly, not nevertheless, changed for the better. My fellow BP's; please don't think I am minimizing this disease, that all we need do it 'think happy thoughts.' If it were that simple, there would be no mental illness. We would all be walking around, holding hands, singing, "La, La, La, La, La, oh what a beautiful day." I am saying, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that this technique, this forceful choice of mine, helped, a lot!

As the weeks went on, forcing myself to listen to the Good Dog and forcing myself to stay firmly planted in the present moment, as best I could, I was noticing a change, a BIG CHANGE in depression, on a more permanent basis. I was still getting help, medically, but I believe that this mental trick, this forcing my head to focus on something positive, worked and worked better and better each day.

Running out of positive thoughts and things to be grateful for, I started reading and researching to find life affirming quotes, poems and short stories, creating a large collection of quote books, poems, chronicling some of the greatest of thinkers in the history of mankind. Why reinvent what has already been figured out, through the ages. Why not learn something from those that have trudged before us, trying to figure out this thing, called life.

I started writing them down as I searched for positive 'Good Dog' reinforcement. Then I started emailing them to my son, who said he was having some depression. I would research and put together a daily email with a combination of quotes, short stories or poems and send them out with the title ... 'Daily Good Dog Feedings.'

Before long, word spread like wildfires, as people forwarded these 'Daily Good Dog Feedings' to their friends and family. As I am writing this to you today, there are thousands of people from all over the world that are receiving the Dog, which I affectionately call it today.

I am in contact with dozens of people, every day. I am making friends with people I have never met, yet feel a bond as strong as those of close friends, why ... because we understand each other. We are survivors and we are all in the same lifeboat together. We need to help each other, not to merely survive, but to get stronger and live, to recover from a disease that can be managed, if we choose to recover.

Anyway, I'm rambling cause I'm pretty manic today but hey, rather ramble on about something positive than hide in bed, beating myself up.

I have spent my entire life in this painfully lonely dark place; the insanity of mental illness. I'm done suffering! If I suffer now, it's my choice because today I have tools and I use them. I have my Good Dog choice, my doctor and medications as well as many other tools I can use if I CHOOSE to heal.

Today I choose life and today life is sweet, even though there are painful episodes from time to time. I know they will pass. Today, even the pain feels good as it reminds me that I'm alive. I'm not going back into hell. I've been there and it's not all that it's cracked up to be. Hope you decide to join me. Recovery is not for whimps!

God Bless Us All, We Deserve It.

Louie (uswalker) http://rochonsculpture.artspan.com/mbr_bio.php

NOTE: I am happy to share the 'Daily Good Dog Feeding' with anyone that wants it ... just email me at uswalker3@hotmail.com I am doing this for two reasons, first because this daily practice keeps me alive and secondly, because it feels really great to be able to help others. It's an awesome feeling that makes me feel useful, productive and finally finding meaning in life - helping others and getting out of myself.

A Morning Talk with Myself

noreply@blogger.com (louie rochon) — Sun, 02 Dec 2007 17:00:00 +0000

Every morning, as I write out my To-Do list, I dutifully enter "Work on Book." And every night, when reviewing the progress of my list, without having written a single word, hope fades that I will ever complete this book, "A Long Walk Home."

Sharing with a friend, my frustration, he suggested that I write the reasons why I feel blocked from writing. Here I am, writing.

I have worked very hard over the past few months, to get new medications to stabilize my emotional swings and for the most part, I feel pretty functional these days. I have even had the motivation to get started on two new art works, a definite sign that the symptoms of my manic depression have lifted. Nevertheless, sitting down and even opening the file to my book, seems impossible. I had always thought the reason was associated with my mental illness. I don't believe it is. This is something situational.

There is always a conversation going on in my head, sometimes quiet and subtle and often, relentless screaming. When thinking of working on the book, these inner thoughts are very quiet and so subtle, I hardly can recognize that they are there. They are there!

This morning, quieting my mind and allowing these inner words to flow through my fingers onto the computer, I hear ...

"What the F%+* do you have to say that
anyone could be interested in hearing."
"Who to do you think you are to write a book anyway."
"There are REAL problems and REAL suffering of people going on out there in the world and I am sick and tired of hearing your pathetic endless whining about your depression. Shut the F$*^& up and get a life."

Wow. That felt kind of good, in a sick kind of way. "What are your reasons for writing this book anyway?" just flashed into my mind. Let the thoughts flow ...

"For My SON! This is a record of the most significant effort of my life and I want to share this account with my boy, the most important person and purpose of my life."

"Personal Healing. It's been suggested by quite a few writers that the process of writing in and of itself, provides a healing through insights that may never have surfaced without closer examination."

"It has always felt like the walk is not finished. And I have always been tormented by this, arguing to myself, 'what more could I possibly do than walk through everything I endured staying true to my commitment. I did my job. I've done enough.' But have I done enough? Maybe I stopped short, thinking taking the last few steps of 5000+ miles of walking and a final press conference was the end. Maybe this is just the beginning?"

"What if the real value of the walk is not in the miles walked, the money raised, the millions of people that became more aware of pediatric AIDS but perhaps it is in the writing of a book that has the potential for reaching even more people with this story? Perhaps"

"Bullshit! This walk began as a desperate effort to find yourself - your basic mid life crisis and looking back, this walk was about trying to walk away from your real demons - depression."

"Well, maybe, just maybe that is the reason the walk has never felt completed. You started out looking for answers and you never found them, in fact by the time the walk ended, you were in worse shape that you were in the beginning - more lost and more depressed than ever!"

"But I have worked so damned hard, trying to survive, to live and find some measure of freedom from the demons of my mind, and I still don't feel healed. Without an 'ending' to the story, why write the book?"

"Ahhh, maybe we're getting somewhere ... 'the ending to the story' ... maybe there is no ending, maybe the ending will be a happy ending or not, maybe the ending will be discovered as a RESULT of writing the book. Ya think? Damn!"

"If I can draw on the type of reckless courage and blind determination that I summoned each day out on the road, just to get a few miles in, then MAYBE I can find that courage to sit my sorry ass down at my computer and tell my story."

"And maybe, just maybe, I might help give someone else that is struggling with mental illness, a glimmer of hope and inspiration. If nothing else, someone like myself reading this book might not feel so desperately alone and freakish."

"OK, I will tray again. This is my first try. God help me, if it be Your will for me, empower me to do Your will.

Whew. That was helpful. Thanks Eric for suggesting this exercise. I feel renewed with a fresh energy. I intend to start writing again, soon.

A Long Walk Home

noreply@blogger.com (louie rochon) — Mon, 15 Oct 2007 16:28:00 +0000

"Awakenings"

For six months now, I have been incredibly blessesd, having experienced the precious gift of sanity, a reprieve from a life-long battle with depression and anxiety. I had never known what it fealt like to be able to start a day without suffering from paralyzing fear and the darkness of the soul - depression and mania, a condition finally diagnosed accurately as Bi-Polar II. For me, each day felt like a life and death battle, coping with depression and the opposite pole of mania (extreme anxiety and compulsive never ending thoughts racing through my head). Trapped inside a mind that seemed hell-bent on destroying me, mental illness wore me down ever so slowly, one sick thought at a time, robbing me of hope and eventually the will to live.

As far as I was concerned, this gift of sanity was nothing less than a miracle. I had never, in my life, experienced such freedom. Each morning was a fresh beginning filled with endless possibilities. Hope had returned and I was filled with immense gratitude. Inspiration and even more importantly, desire, returned as my mind was filled with ideas for new art works and books to write, projects upon projects of things I actually wanted to do. I identified with a character in a movie I'd seen, 'Awakenings' - whereas a comotose patient (Robert De Niro) miraculously came alive, after 40 years in a coma, after being given an experimental drug. He was like a kid in a candy factory - so excited about being alive, literally experiencing life for the first time. The patient had been a young boy when he became sick and fell into a coma. I too, was a young boy when I first started suffering from depression.

I got busy creating a new life for myself, all the while stuffing hidden fears that this was too good to be true, and that the darkness would return all to similar to the true story depicted in 'Awakenings' when the patient eventually fell back into a full coma when the new experimental drug stopped working. My greatest fears had been realized. The darkness has returned. There is a kind of madness that overtakes you when you watch yourself falling back into a cold darkness, knowing full well where you are going, yet being unable to stop it. This is where anger and rage boil over, all to no avail.

Evil.

I cannot think of a more all inclusive word to describe depression, specifically Bi-Polar depression. This disease visciously attacks from the inside out, slowly destroying you in all ways; mind, body and spirit.

Depression, in and of itself, is bearable, for me. It can even be somewhat comforting as relief comes from self-imposed isolation, going deep within the darkest recesses of my mind. In the grips of depression, everything in life moves slowly ... thoughts, actions, even breathing. It actually hurts to breathe as if it requires a deliberate forced effort. Each day starts with a dark choking fog of fear, fear of making it through the day, avoiding contact with anyone that could threaten your delicate balance of sanity. By the end of the day, when I can safely hide, alone, I am usually totally exhausted, utterly spent from a day of lying, pretending that all is well to avoid the pain of well meaning prodding and an endless list of suggestions that only help to overwhelm an already overhelmed mind. Depression would be manageable, if it weren't for the mania, and mania is a whole different threat.

Mania, as described in the diagnosis of Bi-Polar II disorder, is completely different than what most people realize. Mania is extreme anxiety, restlessness, irritability, anger, rage, and the constant torment of compuslive obsessive thinking. Your mind, literally, cannot stop thinking, day or night - it just keep rapid firing without a break. With mania comes enough energy to make the depression, dangerous. Depression, in and of itself is somewhat manageable for me in that I can, most times, avoid people, creating a safe place in which to survive. Self-Imposed isolation helps with the illusion of controlling depression as well as reduces any potential guilt from 'polluting' those around me with worry and/or negativity.

"Think Happy Thoughts"

And there is always the shame ... even in this enlightened age, there is still a stigma associated with mental illness; it scares people. Because clinical bio-chemical depression and bi-polar depression is confused with situational depression (a condition most people experience) there is a tendency to judge those suffering as being weak, lacking willpower or being morally or emotionally deficient as if it were a defect of character. "Think Happy Thoughts," is a common suggestion from well meaning friends and family, assuming that if you would only 'buck-up' and work on changing the outside world by working on your 'issues,' then your depression would be all better. In regular depression, this may be true, but in severe bio-chemical depression, it makes little difference what is going on in your life, positive or negative. Traditional psycho therapy has a role in Bi-Polar depression, but it is definetely not the solution. All of life could be marching along right on cue, the sun could be shining and I could be crippled with depression and anxiety. Situations or events have little effect on this disease. They may help trigger an episode of depression or mania, but they are not the root cause.

A Long Walk Home

The title of the book that I intend to complete writing this winter is "A Long Walk Home," which at first glance would hint at a story about a two year, 5,200 mile walk across America that I completed in 1998. For years, many people had suggested that I write a book about this adventure. I simply could not! Why? The reason has only recently become known to me. I could not even consider writing this book because there was no ending to the story. Sure enough, I started the walk in Miami, walked two years and completed the walk in Seattle, as intended, but there was no ending, in my mind and I really didn't understand why.

Earlier this year, after an accurate diagnosis of Bi-Polar II and resulting medications, I experienced a miraculous reprieve from depression, resulting in some clarity of thought. It became clear to me that there could be a reason and purpose to write this book as well as a happy ending. This book, this adventure was not about the walk, it was about my journey through hell - my life's struggle with and eventual recovery from depression. Perhaps, if I write this book, there may be people that can identify with this disease, or any serious untreated yet treatable mental illness, and get some hope and inspiration from my struggles. I was gearing up and ready to sit down this Fall and start writing again, until I found myself face down in a pit of depression once again.

I had learned that treating this disease, like many mental ilnesses, can be a frustrating series of experiments - trying new medications in various doses and combinations. I had gotten lucky. The first drug I tried, worked almost instantanously in relieving depression. Not long afterwards, with depression vanished (for the first time in my life), I got to experience the other part of my condition, 'Mania,' and God did I ever experience it. Without the lull of depression to counter the effects of the mania, it felt as if I was naked and no where to to run, fully exposed and raw to the world. Mania, was much harder to deal with than depression. Who would of guessed? I was finding myself hoping for depression, to relieve the unbearable manic symptoms. Insane? Oh yeah ... Insane!

I crawled back into my doctors office pleading for some help with this mania and once again, was fortunate to start another drug, (Lithium), which soon afterwards, resulted in all symptoms of depression and mania to be eliminated - completely. Too good to be true, yet it was happening, I felt great and for months, I was alive again, or I should say, for the first time in my life.

After a follow up blood test in August of 07', it was decided that I would have to stop taking Lithium as it has increased some level of Creotin, an indicator that potential Liver problems could occur. I was devastated! How could they take away the only drug that had saved my life? This was unnaceptable, yet I had no choice. The next drug, over the next 6 weeks, had no effect and the mania was still a problem. Yesterday, I took my first dose of a new medication to replace the last replacement and I was was stoned out of my mind, that I could barely talk. This latest drug was from a new series of psycho active drugs that basically sedate. This, being an recovering alcoholic, will not accept as it couuld jeopardize my sobriety. I need a new plan.

I was ready to throw out the 200 pages that I had written this past winter as I believed there could be no value to anyone unless I had found the solution. I had managed to stay alove long enough to finally get an accurate diagnosis and proper medication, but it didn't work. I was a failure. Feeling discouraged, pathetic and useless, I was ready to quit, until this morning.

This morning, I realized that it's easy to talk about your story after all the loose ends are wrapped up neatly and there is a successful ending to the tale. Success is not about arriving at a particular destination, it is about having the courage to trudge, crawl if need be, towards a solution in the midst of pain and suffering. Even in the midst of depression and anguish, I can sense a glimmer of hope. I have been relieved of the bondage of depression and mania once, then it is possible again, but not if I quit trying.

The New Deal

Yesterday, it was all I could do to get through the day, feeling drugged and hungover from the first dose of a new medication, that I have since thrown away. Soon, as soon as I can think straight again and be calm enough to settle down, I intend to start researching all of the treatment options and medicines avaialable for Bi-Polar II. I will boil them down to the best 2 or 3 options, run them by my medical doc and then my psych doc and will systematically work through them until I find relief.

I do have hope. God has walked with me through a liftetime of hell and will not desert me now. I must do my part and I will keep crawling along. I didn't have the strength to do this, only a few years ago. I am grateful that I was shown, albeit a short window of opportunity, a glimpse of what life can be like without the chains and shackles of depression tying me down. I want my life back and I am willing to fight for it.

I intend to start writing on the book again, soon, inspite of depression or mania. I will wirte my story and whatever happens from that point, well, it's none of my business.

The Fork

noreply@blogger.com (louie rochon) — Thu, 14 Jun 2007 16:39:00 +0000

Another long night. Every now and then, conditions are just right, just enough pouring rain hitting the window with just the right rhythm at just the right hours; the quiet small hours when it all stops and it feels safe. Last night was one of those nights - dark, quiet, safe. Precious moments, really, when I savor each second and can breathe, again.

I was reading, somewhere, that it is quite common when entering the envelope of spiritual enlightenment, for all hell to break loose. Why? Because as you experience the Truth, the other side, there is a heightened sensitivity to all thoughts, all emotions and that which used to serve as a calm protected harbor from the relentless storms of my mind, no longer welcome me and provide safe harbor. This, I think, is the fork in the road. Something feels all too familiar about this place. I sense being here before, this fork, this place in time, this choice.

On one fork, it appears, faintly to my senses, to be the safe path, protected and quiet, lulling me towards wrapping myself within it's cloak. No one can hurt me there. No one can see me there. I am invisible. I am safe. Yes, this place seems all too familiar to me. And it should. I know this place, well. I've chosen this path, often. And it also, appears to me, faintly as if a distant memory, that this path leads to no place, to no where, to darkness, to an endless maze that leads only to despair and anguish, a place of endless sighs, to self destruction of all that is good.

There is something different about this path, this place, this time. I can sense it's deadness, it's void, it’s emptiness, it's lie. And yet, this other path, it's so bright, so incredibly bright _ and loud, untried, un-trodden, so fresh and promising yet so open and unprotected.

I have arrived at this fork in the road once again.
This is where I am.

This is my choice.

I choose to walk towards the light.

This is where I am.

Personal Spiritual Responsibility in the Face of Hopelessness

noreply@blogger.com (louie rochon) — Thu, 24 May 2007 17:32:00 +0000

Mother Theresa, when questioned as to why she refused to support or attend an anti-war rally, replied something to the effect of “I would be happy to attend and support a peace rally.”

It seems only natural, when overwhelmed by an ever increasing list of seemingly hopeless regional and global threats, many of which threaten human mass extinction, to deny the very existence of their reality. These doomsday scenarios are too numerous and awful to contemplate. My common inner dialogue goes something like ...

“If there is nothing I can do about it—why let it occupy my attention, my consciousness?" Or … “If life is going to end, and there is nothing I can do to change the inevitability, then why not just ignore the probabilities and find whatever happiness I can while I still have a life.”

My inner dialogues and resulting choices seem logical. Then, why don’t I feel at peace with my decision to ignore the endless assortment of cataclysmic scenarios (of which I can do nothing about to alter the course of inevitable destiny) and go about my life, carelessly skipping down the road of life? Perhaps, after a little introspection, I discover that my unease may be due to false self conclusions … Is there really nothing I can do?

My entire life has been a spiritual quest. Over many years of painful self discovery, I have formed a set of beliefs. I believe that I do have control over my own destiny and that of the world around me and that control begins with my personal attitude, perspective and expectations of the events surrounding me. I believe that whatever it is that I focus on, with my mind, heart and spirit—will manifest into reality. I believe in the Law of Attraction. I believe that one person can make a difference, that one candle can ignite millions, if the flame contains truth. I believe in the Power of One and the Ripple Effect of Intention. I believe that we are all powerful—that we have simply lost touch with our strengths and abilities to alter the world that we are a part of … feeling overwhelmed and dis-empowered with the complexity and seriousness of the threats. I have personally experienced this effect in my life. I have forgotten what I had learned.

10 years ago, plagued with the very same emotions, suffering from depression and disillusionment birthed from years of self seeking, I felt overwhelmed and apathetic as to my role in this world. I had an attitude of “Why bother, the problems are too numerous and too big to do anything about. I care, but there is nothing I can do.” These feelings of helplessness and hopelessness as well as the crushing emptiness of life’s purpose and meaning led me to some drastic decisions. I had to do something, anything … I needed to try, again.

I chose to embark on a three year sabbatical, a spiritual quest, a walk across America, in hopes of finding meaning and purpose for my life. I needed to prove, to myself, that I, little insignificant me, could still make a difference in my world. So many deserving causes … I chose pediatric Aids. Through a series of events, these children captured my heart.

Over the next three years, I devoted myself to concerns outside of myself, to see, if I could make a difference. I did, in the lives of many. What started with one small flame of intention grew into a bonfire of positive effect for thousands of people. More importantly, I re-discovered my personal, spiritual power. I could not change the world—but I could change myself. I could do what I could do and if others chose to light their wicks from my flame—so be it. If not, I could feel the immense soul satisfaction of feeling a part of my world. This morning, I realized that I had forgotten what I had learned.

What had I learned over three years and 5200 miles of walking across this country? I learned of the Power of One. I had learned of the ripple effect. I had learned of my personal spiritual power … the power of truth. I had forgotten. I am now remembering.

Now, as I look around my world, I have no fear. I have realized, thank God, that I am NOT powerless, that I can effect the world around me. How? I don’t need to walk across the country to prove anything to myself or crusade in the name of countless injustices. I can, however, use what I have, this morning … a laptop computer, a blog and my life’s lessons and share them honestly and openly. This is my flame. I have the power to light my candle. I will do my part as I Am a part of my world, starting with the immense power of my intentions.

I learned of the immense transforming power of one pebble, one pointed intention, if resonating with sincerity, can cause ripples of movement that can literally change the world. I had forgotten. Now, I remember. I remember Gandhi, Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King and countless others that acted on the courage of their convictions to follow their hearts and do what they could do. I remember Mother Theresa’s lesson that shows me that I Can focus my personal attention and efforts toward the desired outcome and not focus on the problem. I realize that whatever I resist, persists.

This is my flame, my daily positive affirmations and peaceful meditations which lead to personal decisions, choices and often physical actions, in doing my part. This is my contribution, for today.

What happened to my little boy?

noreply@blogger.com (louie rochon) — Sun, 20 May 2007 14:30:00 +0000

Major life changes
seem to happen suddenly and dramatically, yet looking back, they were creeping up on me slowly and then one day, some event happens that snaps me back into reality. Today, I experienced a major life change that has been coming for 21 years.

A few minutes ago, my son left home. Alex has left home before. In fact, he left for college two years ago, but this morning, it feels as if he is really gone. Standing on my toes, holding tightly to my little boy, holding back the tears, wondering when did he get so damned tall.

How did he become a man, so quickly, right in front of my eyes.

He seemed so grown up as he responsibly packed his belongings into the car. That was always my job. I was always the one that had to nag him endlessly to get out of bed. I was the one that had to scour the house for all the things he had scattered around. I was the one that was responsible, for him.

As I watch his car drive up the driveway, on his way back to Montana, to his third year of college, I suddenly feel so old and alone.

How many times had we driven off, together? So many times! We were inseparable, my boy and me. Yet now, I watch him drive away and he's not coming back. I feel loneliness unlike any I have ever felt before, a deeper more permanent loneliness. I sense this is one of those sudden moments that I will always remember, one of those moments that will mark a major life change. Somehow, I know, I just know that life will never be the same again. This chapter is over.

Honor student - clean cut, responsible, loving and caring, I couldn't be more proud of my son, and happy, for him. So many years of endless worry and sleepless nights, bailing him out, protecting him, tied to the hip, best friends, yet this morning I watch my little boy as he drives away, a man. A turning point? So many mixed feelings. My instinct is to run down the road, chase him down, hold him and stop time. Yet, it's time, probably later than it should have been - it's time to let him go.

Funny, in our culture, men are rarely associated with 'empty nest syndrome,' yet here I sit, crying, as I release my hold, on my boy. He has been my world. He has been my life. Of course, my intellect assures me that he is not gone, that our relationship is just changing, but my heart fails to grasp the logic of this mental argument.

With any loss, there is always an opening, for something new. How do I fill this hole, this emptiness? Guess an inventory might help. I've always made an inventory, when undergoing a major life change - take stock of what I have left to work with and build from where I am. As I sit, numb, it feels as if there is nothing on the list to work with.

The world seems different this morning. It feels cold and empty. I feel as if a part of me is missing. A big part of me, IS missing.

I go about doing what it is that I do, yet it feels as if someone else is doing it. What happened to me? When did I lose myself? I guess it is natural to lose sight of yourself when you focus your life on the needs of another, for so long it becomes a habit. "I'll take care of me, later, after _______" ... it's always something. Good or bad - doesn't really matter, it's still a loss - a major loss. When did I forget to be me and become us? How do I become me, again?

My mind wants an answer, a solution, now! Guess being a guy, that's my nature. I sense there will be no quick-fix to this dilemna. This is going to be one of those long growth things ... God, I hate those, but they always seem, when looking back after all the pain of the change, to be the deepest and most meaningful.

Tonight, perhaps even this afternoon, my cell phone will ring. I know he'll call - he always does, yet it's never the same, talking on a phone.

'Hey Pops, how ya doin? The weather's fine - the road is clear - we're having a blast, chomping on some burgers and running down the road, just like WE used to.

I miss ya Pops. I mean, I really MISS you Pops."

He's gone and this time, it feels so permanent, as it should be, as it has been for thousands of years for millions of parents and millions of children, grown. I try and reassure him that it's OK., that we'll make many more memories, great memories, but I know, inside, that they will never be the same.

My boy is living his life, making decisions, embarking on his grand adventure. Maybe that has something to do with my feeling so old - the memories of a boy, his dad, as he excitedly drove away, free at last, to begin decades of adventures - to live his life. And those decades are just memories now, some fond and many I'd just as well forget.

Oh sure, there will be more memories, good memories from grand new adventures, yet my mind can't help to flash to images of me, riding quietly in the back of their car, with the grandkids, as they politely put up with grandpa, dealing with me, just like I dealt with him, like a child. This is the way it is and always has been. Better get used to it.

No, I sense life will never be the same again, as it should be. Just wish it didn't hurt so bad.

JOY ... An Interesting Side Effect

noreply@blogger.com (louie rochon) — Thu, 03 May 2007 16:12:00 +0000

Four months now ... free of the crippling symptoms of depression and anxiety, I am realizing an incredible side effect of sanity - Joy!

Being born again, or for that matter - being born, has resulted in a newly emerging realization ... that I can simply be, and be-ing is enough. More than enough. Many people might find this ridiculous, as I suppose most people already realize this. This has not been my life reality and it is nothing less than a miracle, for me.

Suffering from overwhelming depression and anxiety resulting in low self esteem, has fueled a life long struggle for 'normalcy.' I never felt like I was enough, feeling empty and dissapointed, regardless of the grandeur of my latest attempt to find some measure of personal esteem. After each Grand Adventure, after in inevitable let-down, eventually I would find the strength to re-double my efforts aimed at the next scheme, always resulting in the void of inadequacy.

Finally, after so many years of struggling, losing all hope - I was set free. I had found a solution to life-long depression. For the past four months, I have nevously charted my daily moods, waiting for the other shoe to drop - waiting for the choking black fog to smother the life out of me, again. This has not happened. I have been set free. I am so grateful for my new life.

In my daily journaling, I have discovered a fascinating side effect of my new freedom - Joy! Perhaps similar to the often reported rebirth of spirit from those surviving a near death experience, I have been given an entirely new perspective, an awakening of sorts. It is as if I had been blind since birth and this new light of life, often uncomfortably bright, offers up to me, a world previously gone unnoticed, unnapreciated. I had been totally unconscious - asleep.

Each new day, I awaken, in awe, of the beauty that surrounds me, amazed at the depth and abundance of life. No longer am I bound to endless projects, desperate pursuits for meaning and personal value. I am discovering that I Am Enough and always have been. I am discovering the immense satisfaction derived from the freedom of endless action as the means to an impossible end.

Today I am free to smell the roses and do so, constantly. Today, I find great joy in the previously invisble vibrancy of life, the richness of sight, sound and touch that surrounds me. My days are long and happy and joyous, success lying in the actual be-ing of each precious moment. Finally, I Am Enough. Thank You God.

Letter to Depressed Artist

noreply@blogger.com (louie rochon) — Mon, 19 Mar 2007 17:51:00 +0000

I was touched, recently, by a blog that a fellow artist had posted on an art site that I frequent. I wrote him a response and since it was somewhat revealing as to my new-found passions resulting in starting to write my new book "A Long Walk Home,' ... thought I would blog it to my site. The following is my response.

Hello Paul,

Having suffered severe depression all of my life as well, and similar history of being a writer and sculptor, I can relate to your life-long struggle with depression.

Ten years ago, primarily caused by an especially debilitating bout of depression and corresponding anxiety and desperation, I had decided I needed to figure things out. I took 3 years and did a 5200 mile solo cross country walk (from Miami to Seattle, via San Diego) to benefit pediatric AIDS, but primarily to see if I could break through the depression. I did not. It was, by far, the most rewarding and challenging experience of my life, but I ended the walk in even worse shape than when I started.

It has taken 10 years from the time I started the walk, to start on the book about the walk "A Long Walk Home". Many people have been hounding me, for years now, to write this book. I could not! Why? You may understand. There was no ending. Sure I walked those last few miles up to the base of the Space Needle, surrounded by incredible media, friends, supporters and family, all hailing this success. For me, it was not finished and I had definitely not found what I was looking for. In fact, I could not even realize what I was looking for until a couple months ago.

I was looking for a way of ending the relentless mental pain and suffering. Now, after 50 years of suffering and a great deal of loss surrounding this suffering (alcohol and drug self medicating, workaholism (up and down resulting in two fortunes and two total losses including a very large bankruptcy, many serious health conditions (including over 6 stents for my heart) all of which I am convinced, looking back, were subconscious suicide attempts. I have even had a few conscious suicide considerations - not actual attempts, but for many years, obsessed with thoughts of death, as a way out of the relentless suffering.

Today, unlike any other period of my life, I have found relief through a new diagnosis and treatment and feel, well, born-again would be far too shallow a description, yet I think you will understand. This help came after decades of trying and many times, giving up with little hope in-between. I was lost for so many years.

This last time that I reached out, I had gotten to the point that if 'This' didn't work,' I was seriously considering finding a way that would be a 'socially acceptable' means of checking out. Car accident, etc. I am not a suicidal-type person. Mostly I am an optimist, but again, you will understand what the torture of decades of mental suffering can do to a person. Every man has a limit. I was at my limit.

Like I said, today I could not be more grateful. Today I am free. I am alive, for the first time in 40 years. I am writing again and have many ideas for new sculptural works. This, if you knew me, would amaze you - this is nothing short of a miracle, for me. I never thought it would be possible to regain passion and purpose again.

Today, I can't wait to jump out of bed and get my day started. Again - this is an incredible Miracle for me! I am so glad that I didn't give up totally and had one grain more of hope in which to try, one more time.

God was with me all those years and now, He has delivered me. I am not a religious man, but believe me, I am NOW a every spiritual and grateful man.

If interested, you can read more about my life-long struggles and accomplishments in the BIO-Blog section of my art web site. http://www.rochonsculpture.artspan.com/mbr_bio.php

I wish for you only continued success and pray that you find relief for your depression.

Louie Rochon

Another Letter from Dad

noreply@blogger.com (louie rochon) — Tue, 13 Mar 2007 22:04:00 +0000

I recently received a letter from my 86 1/2 year old father, Andre' Rochon, a brilliant man that recently moved into an assisted care facility after owning his home in Montreal for the past 3 decades. The following is our correspondence ....

Dear Louie,

I am sending a page of my Journal that I HAD to write last night. I would love your comments on it as I still am not too clear on the feelings I tried to express. I am very eager to read the new chapter of your book.

Love Dad

Monday March 12th 2007, 2.30 AM.
In the course of the last six months I have witnessed a major change in my outlook towards life. I purposely used the word witnessed because I did not search for it, I did not wish for it. It just happened and it seems in retrospect that it was quite sudden.

Six months ago I was still living in my house that I had acquired thirty two years ago. I was still strongly attached to all the worldly possessions that I had accumulated during my life time. I do not know what induced this sudden change in perspective. It seemed that I suddenly desired to live a simpler, less encumbered life. Material possessions seemed to have lost their attraction. I do not mean to say that I had stopped admiring the paintings that I had on the walls or cherishing the books that were filling my numerous bookcases. I still looked at them with great pleasure but at the same time I felt that if I was separated from them I would get the same pleasure at remembering them as I had to own them.

I am at a loss to find the proper words to express this change of perspective and even more so to explain why it happened. Sometimes I feel that Louie would be able to shed light on this situation because I think that he has experienced the same shift of emotions several times in the course of his life. Without much advanced planning I decided to sell my house and give much of my treasures to friends and people I felt would enjoy them. I never felt that I was making a mistake and would come to regret it. I seemed to be guided by a strong force that pushed me in this direction.

Some people have hinted that I should try to sell some of my possessions but this thought not only did not appeal to me but was quite unpleasant to me. I could not sell what I loved; I had to give it away and rejoice in the pleasure that I felt from the pleasure I was creating in others. The thought of selling any of the objects in my possessions not only did not appeal to me but it was even repulsive.

Some cynics might have thought that these new feelings of mine were hypocritical. I had not exactly drifted into poverty. My new apartment is comfortably furnished with many of my prized possessions and the sale of my home has provided me with enough money to last me for the rest of my life.
_________________________________________________________

Hello dad,

Regarding my impressions of your journal entry, I must start by telling you that I am filled with great joy at your newfound revelation.

It doesn't surprise me as your underlying character has always rejected material possessions as an end to the means. My life, my character was formed, with pride by your, as you often referred to it as your 'Peasant Bohemian personality' ... which I always thought was an admirable trait.

You know that my boyhood hero was Thoreau, primarily because of his beliefs about material possessions, how they own you as opposed to the illusion that we own them. The very thought of we human beings owning anything is ridiculous in and of itself. I like the philosophy of the Native Americans that lost most of their lands because they could not understand the concept of land ownership - which the white man coveted, cheated and stole from them. They believed, as I do, that we are simply stewards and furthermore, I believe this applies to anything ... People and Possessions ... we simply get to take care of them and interact with them, but we do not own them.

Eckhart Tolle, a modern day philosopher who specializes in the manifestations of ego, believes that we, primarily prevalent in the Western civilization (and I use that word 'civil-ization very loosely) have a bad habit of identifying who we are by what we 'own'.

I also love Tolle's test for egoic attachment of people, places or things ... in that all you have to do is imagine, in your mind, how you would feel if whatever it is that you wish to test, were removed from you. The more the pain, the greater the egoic attachment. He does not say that things are bad in and of itself - it's how we identify with those things that can cause the problem.
I've always loved Thoreau's quote …

"A Man is Rich in Direct Proportion to the Number of Things in Which He Can Leave Alone".

I have learned that I can enjoy someone else's property as much, if not more so than them, as I can enjoy it's beauty, form and function yet don't have to sell my time into slavery for the sole purpose of paying for it, maintaining it, insuring it, protecting it, worrying about losing it, cleaning it, etc.

I have, as you know, patterned my life after this belief, or I should say, the latter part of my life, after I woke up to this reality. I think one must experience, personally, this lesson before they truly understand it and make it a part of their belief system. No one can teach you this. You must live it, and if you are lucky, you will experience complete loss and the potential blessing associated with this loss. I say 'Potential Blessing' as I'm not saying that this lesson is automatic - I have found that it is NOT!

I have lost everything I 'owned' a number of times (people and things), only to harden my resolve in getting it right the next time and building my ownership of 'whatever' even greater, in a vain attempt to find satisfaction and peace of mind. I further believe that peace of mind is the greatest asset that a human being can acquire, and yet it is there, right in front of them all along. But, as I painfully learned for myself, you must find it yourself, if you are lucky.

I mention all this, because my impression of your recent revelation is that you have been given a great gift, the gift of peace of mind - the loss of your egoic attachment to your things. Whether you lost your things or not is irrelevant; it's that you lost your attachment to you things that has set you free. You have just recently realized, personally, that you are NOT your things, that you are a full and complete human being, exactly as you are, right here and right now, and you always have been.
There is another saying that I am quite fond of …

"Enough is Never Enough, Until You ARE Enough"

... and I believe that until we can accept ourselves as enough, in the present moment, just as we are, we'll always chase down people, places and things for our fulfillment and ultimately, disillusionment.

Tolle's primary teaching is that of Spiritual Enlightenment. This is a big word, but he breaks it down as follows: Spiritual Enlightenment is nothing more than higher consciousness (another big word) yet higher consciousness is nothing more than Presence and Presence is nothing more than Be-ing present, right here - right now - at this very moment in time. Everything else, which is where we spend most of our lives, is obsession with either the past or the future. As Tolle puts it so eloquently...

“To Be identified with your mind is to be
trapped in time: the compulsion to live
almost exclusively through memory and anticipation.
This creates an endless preoccupation with past and future
and an unwillingness to honor and acknowledge the
present moment and allow it to be.
The compulsion arises because the past gives you
an identity and the future holds the promise of salvation,
of fulfillment in whatever form.
Both are illusions.”

I am so happy for you dad. You are now free and able to truly en-joy your life, without any encumbrances, drink in and savor the sweetness of your memories as well truly embrace those new memories that you will make, in the present moment.

I love you Dad.

Louie

Gratitude for Life - Escape from Insanity.

noreply@blogger.com (louie rochon) — Tue, 06 Mar 2007 18:16:00 +0000

I am so grateful that this last stand, this last attempt at trying, doubting any possibility of real change, is paying off in spades - a new life, a new pair of glasses, HOPE ... for the first time in decades ... smile on my face and a calmness. Balance, the dreaded 'B' word is creeping back into my life, slowly but surely.

These days, it's not about coping, clawing my way through hell each day, fighting for each second to simply breath in and out, watching the seconds crawl by until that sacred inner sanctuary time - after 8:00 pm, when I could socially acceptably slither back into my cave and relax, basking in the comfort and sick safety of my aloneness - my self imprisoned retreat, and not have to do the excruciatingly hard work of pretending to the world, that I am OK, so that I don't call attention to my inner suffering, always fearful that someone, well intentioned or not, would add even more pressure to an already impossibly explosive pressure situation, threatening to add that last straw that would plunge me into the very depths of hell - insanity, a world where my greatest fears would envelope me, choking the last breath out of me, allowing the inevitable result of the last gasp of hope - gone, resigning all that is and was me. Insanity - my greatest fear.

This climb out of darkness, this reprieve from mental illness, is nothing short of a miracle, for me. I look back, even a few months and can hardly believe what I am reading. Who was this person, bleeding words onto those pages, purging his soul of that heavy, dark, cold and hopeless state of mind, body and spirit? My God, it was me. It is me. It is a chapter in a long life of inner suffering that is every bit a part of who I am, now.

Looking back, as painful as it is, clearly shows me that this suffering was a critical element in the transmutation of the person I have become. I am a more compassionate, loving, accepting and non-judgmental person. Gratitude is my prevalent mood, and how could it be anything else, rescued from a world a endless emotional pain and suffering - insanity itself.

The greatest gift of all - Life itself. Born again, or perhaps better said 'Born' ... period!

Journaling these thoughts in my daily entries, I have decided, after re-reading these last few paragraphs, that I will cut and paste this into a new blog, to share with my world, the world, and perhaps further good can come from my pain.

This writing, this daily 'good dog' and the blog is a form of healing, for me. It is a way of reaching out, being more transparent and allowing the love of people that have always been there, to experience the real me.

This is very much a part of my recovery - showing up and being seen after a lifetime of hiding and pretending to be someone I wasn't. Never intentional hiding, but from a deep foundation of never ending fear, that I was less than, worth-less and was doomed to be that way for the rest of my pathetic life.

I am not bitter or resentful to God that it has taken me 53 years of suffering to finally breathe in the beauty of life - I am eternally grateful that I have been given this gift of life itself. These days, my days are months. I savor each second of this new life, perhaps as a man deserted on a lonely far away island would after a lifetime of isolation.

I am alive today. Thank you God.

Letter from Dad

noreply@blogger.com (louie rochon) — Sat, 03 Mar 2007 02:26:00 +0000

This is a letter I just received from my 84 year old dad, Andre Rochon, who recently moved into an assisted living facility to join his wife (after selling his home which he has lived in for decades), in Montreal, Canada. My reply is located below ...

Wednesday, February 28th

Dear Louie,

To-night, I have finally been able to relax. For months I have been stressed by a number of events that have not only perturbed my life but have totally changed my mode of living. I seemed to be looking from the outside at a new me with whom I had difficulty associating.

I will not start again to list all the events through which I have been through, not only during the last four months, but even since Jeanne (his wife who went into an assisted living home) left home to be placed in a residence a year and a half ago. To-day, I think that I have resolved the last problems associated with my move and the sale of the house.

To-night, it was pure bliss. After an excellent dinner consisting in a heaping plate of excellent muscles eaten with mayonnaise and accompanied by a glass of very ordinary wine, that nevertheless, given my mood, gave me the pleasure of a grand cru, I returned to my apartment. I settled in my Lazy Boy and for the first time in months I listened in the dark to my favorite classical music program. There was a magnificent program of Bach’s music. I gradually drifted to sleep listening to the Wedding Cantata. It is now 9 o’clock and I have awakened to the gracious marvel of an oboe concerto, another masterpiece of the same composer. I just opened my e-mail to find another masterpiece, a charming biography of Danielle (my sister).

BLISS! ..…….May it last!....... I am now going to bed with a good book until I dissolve into pleasant dreams. I hope that that this is the start of a new era.

and my reply ________________________________________________

Dear Dad,

What do I think?

I think that you have finally arrived at that place in your life in which you can absolutely and completely en-joy your life—all the grand memories as well as the not-so-grand, realizing that you have survived and now have the luxury of peace, contentment, satisfaction and gratitude for a life well spent.

I think it is as if you have collected these gems over a lifetime and now have the opportunity to be able to carefully remove them from the bag and truly enjoy them.

I think that you have made peace with your past, look forward to collecting (and savoring) a few more precious gems in the future, but most importantly—you are thoroughly experiencing the bliss of the present moment.

Yes dad, I think that I can understand your bliss and I couldn’t be happier, more grateful and honored in being able to share in your joy.

I love you dad, always have and always will.

Louie

An Awakening - Freedom from life-long Depression

noreply@blogger.com (louie rochon) — Sat, 03 Mar 2007 02:26:00 +0000

From journal entry 3/07 ...

Still riding the high of no highs and no lows - VERY strange sensation, just kind of going about doing your life - VERY strange! But I gotta say, I kind of like it. Never thought I would or could. I used to always compare people that just went about doing life in balance to mediocricy, condemning it for it's lack of passion and spark, when now looking back, seems like simply another means of coping, explaining away my lack of being able to live balanced, stuck in that hyper or dead state.

I really can't describe what it is I'm feeling - kind of like waking up yet not remembering what it was ever like to be awake before I fell asleep - I guess you could say it's more like being born again, with little memory of the first life. All I can do is go about living in it, one day at a time yet without the enormous handicap of anxiety and depression to cope with, as if a ten ton monkey just jumped off my back. It's like smiling at the world for the first few times after you have just had your braces taken off - a little scared, a little self conscious, feeling as if the whole world will notice that you are the new kid in the class and that they MUST all be staring but a harder look and you see, they don't even notice - which makes me think, how good I have become at pretending to blend in, as if I was apart of 'them'. More coping skills to mask a life snuffing illness.

A lot of world to rediscover. New feelings. New sensations and I mean - brand spanking new!

Perhaps it is this immediate contrast that is so difficult to adjust to - as if you were hidden in a cave for 50 years and you got used to this cave and almost suddenly - this bright light shines on you and you leave this cave, to find a entirely new world, a world that you physically resided in, yet weren't apart of, a world that makes no sense when considering old sensitivities. A world worth adjusting to.

Hard to trust what is real, and having faith that it may last - maybe, hope-fully. I can't imagine the horror of having to go back into that dark, choking hell, having tasted the fresh air of freedom. I can't imagine the horror. I can't. I won't. I will only move forward, one day at a time, the same way I have managed to survive 50 years, doing the best I can with what I have to work with and be grateful that today, I have been given the gift of life.

I've earned this gift - I've paid the price, for freedom, for life. I want to stay.