Tuesday, 18 October 2011

• Making Your Future

  
  This is going to be a rather long article. I'm not a salesperson trying to sell you a product or a television personality who gives half-assed guidance for the hefty price of thirty minutes of your life. I promise you genuine, potentially life-changing advice in under fifteen minutes provided you aren't dyslexic or visually impaired.

  Sometimes we need a little bit of inspiration, or that extra kick in the ass. These are things you should hear from a first-hand survivor. A master of his own destiny. A former non-believer. The destroyer of personal demons.

  This isn't Jesus Christ, but I may be able to awaken you from emotional death.

  Let me ask you a question: Who do you live for?

  If you answered anything other than "myself," you'll have to do some extra thinking. Your number one priority is yourself. Always. This isn't selfishness, it's the realization that in order to be your best self for others, you have to take some initiative and become your own. Once you realize this, you'll be able to build yourself up into the person you want to be. But how do we get there?

  It's incredible how so many things in our lives help shape our thoughts or perhaps even drown our world in a never ending stormy sea of clinical depression.

  I'm going to tell you a story about my personal life to illustrate how psychologically damaging different aspects of our childhood can be, and how that leads to negative thought patterns which can cripple us emotionally. I'm only sharing this with you because I've made amends and the weight of the world was seemingly lifted off of my sturdy shoulders.

   

  I was born in New York City, son of two immigrants living in SoHo back when the rent for a one bedroom apartment wasn't astronomically high. Our bathtub was in the kitchen, and the toilet was outside down a corridor. The living conditions weren't great, but a roof is a roof. My parents came from Christian families, but neither really practiced it, and my dad turned atheist. My mother gave birth to two beautiful baby girls, one of which passed away on the 6th month after birth, but continues to remain a beautiful example of why life shouldn't be taken for granted.

  The second daughter was born with a paralysis of the vocal cords and developmentally delayed, so a tracheostomy was in order. She would ultimately become one of the main reasons why my mom searched for answers, and became a Jehovah's Witness. After being approved for public housing, we moved into a three bedroom apartment where Bible studies would be held. I was indoctrinated, and at the mercy of my legal guardian.

  Jehovah's Witnesses, while nice people, are a really overlooked source of psychological problems in children. Let me explain. They don't celebrate Christmas, birthdays, or Halloween along with other holidays. This is an issue because as a kid growing up, you're going to feel alienated when you realize that all of your friends are getting presents and having parties, while you're stuck in a room full of old folks for a two hour lecture. That's where I was, starting at the age of seven.

  I had already been witness to verbal and near physical abuse between my mother and father due to their polar opposite views on religion. My dad would yell obscenities, trash the house, come home drunk at three in the morning, and have sex with my mother in plain view while I crept around corners, scared out of my mind. I had a fear of aliens growing up, or more specifically, E.T. from the Spielberg film, so I'd naturally sleep with my parents where the bed shaking would usually occur.

  Then came the fear-mongering. The end is near. "Armageddon will soon be upon us, because we're living in the 'end times,'" they said. The last thing you want to do is instill the fear of death into a developing child.

  I became frightened at the thought of being destroyed in a world turned to chaos. If you're not among the Jehovah's Witnesses, chances are you'll get clobbered by the hammer of death and won't make it to eternal paradise on Earth. It's an attitude of "you're either with us, or with them." You can't just shake off the fear that's constantly being instilled in you, and I can testify to that. I would constantly battle with myself even up to my late teens, trying to decide whether I wanted to follow a religion out of fear, or make a life of my own.

  I stagnated. I was in limbo.

  I had no father figure growing up, because my dad was always busy drinking with friends or ignoring me. The only time I'd ever hear my father utter a word towards me, was when I failed to do some menial task or accidentally broke something with a rubber bouncy ball. He would bark at me angrily, and even managed to pull me out of the shower once because I misplaced an empty box. You read that correctly.

  Now that I think about it, he crazily blurted things out when he was giving me an ass whoopin' with the metal end of a thick belt or a television remote. You know, one of those old hunks of junk, not these fancy contraptions that can tune into ESPN and turn on your microwave to heat up some pizza rolls at the same time.

  There were no expectations. I had no one to motivate me. My father did enjoy spitting venomous words in my direction to make it clear that he considered me to be a failure, however. I didn't live up to his vision of me being a beer chuggin' Hispanic, who only listens to Merengue and Salsa.

  Everything finally came crashing down on me when I finished high school. I had a severe panic attack in the bathtub, and would even get them twice a day in the months to follow until I was medicated. Coupled with depression which runs on my mother's side of the family, I came upon really dark times, and I had no idea where I was going, or any sort of direction. All I had was my writing.

  I went to multiple psychologists, all of whom tried to prescribe me different medications and doses. I felt like I was walking against a brick wall. Years battling depression and building detrimental thought patterns, followed by a long struggle.

   

  Then, there was a mental breakdown.

  A moment of clarity.

  A combination of multiple kicks to the ass like Chun-Li legging her way out of a television set.

  When you're battling depression, it blurs the line between how you would normally feel, and a bad day. Week. Month. Year. But just like the flip of a switch, it was gone. I was me again.

  Is it possible that just like the sudden onset of an anxiety disorder, the depression could simply vanish? Bipolar disorder, this is not. This was an honest to God epiphany. It was a fucking revelation. It felt like I uncovered the mysteries of life, and I had finally become the man I wanted to be internally. The work I put into eliminating negative thoughts finally showed. I quit giving a fuck about failure, potential risks, and what-ifs. All fear vanished. I wanted the world.

  How could this be, though?

  I thought about the chain of events leading up to this. How could I create a formula to replicate it so others with similar problems would benefit? Is it even possible to replicate such a thing? I'm going to embark on a mission to find out. But for now, we'll take a look at what I do know.

  1. Empty the bottle. Everything you've kept within, all the negativity, confusion, perceptions, anger, guilt. Toss it out. Bawl your fucking eyes out while watching Titanic, and transfer those tears and raw emotions over to everything you've been keeping on the inside. Find a trigger to your tears, and just let go. Men, quit being macho shits and cry, too. If you really can't bring yourself to cry, go punch some walls, break useless things. It'll be liberating.

  2. Who cares, anyway? Get in contact with people who you've been keeping out of the loop (usually relatives), and hit them with everything you've ever wanted to say. Just put it out there, and walk away knowing that you can finally be yourself around anyone and not care one iota. Extinguish any sort of fear associated with others. Let them react, whether good or bad.

  3. Get your best friends. Being by yourself isn't healthy. In some cases, maybe even a stuffed animal. Talk about positive things and make plans for the future.

  4. Repeat after me. I can do anything I want. I'm my own person, and my mind will not limit me. Negative thoughts are a thing of the past, and I will only think positively. As soon as my mind tries to wander into the dark zone, I'll slap myself and remember how awesome I am.

  5. Go back to step 4.

  6. Work out.

  7. Fix your posture. Bad posture can actually lead to some form of depression. Aside from that, you'll feel more confident and put out better vibes.

  8. Get rid of your cat.

  Make sure you follow the steps in that exact order.

  This game-changer is still pretty new to me, and I'll write a follow-up article if I'm able to nail down some sort of formula which may heavily aid you on your quest.

  What I'm really trying to get across is that losing any sort hope in regards to your mental health would be silly. It always starts with trying to eliminate bad habits and thought patterns. You almost need to re-train your brain. Force yourself if you need to. I can't guarantee that you'll have the same sudden clarity as in my case, but I really do believe that these steps (some might seem unconventional) can help.

  Know that there's always hope, and if I could single-handedly cure you all of this affliction, I would. Therapy is expensive, and medication should only be taken if absolutely necessary. Take back your life, you can do it.

  Have you ever experienced a sudden moment where everything became clear? Have you been hampered by mental illnesses?

  

  Forgive my terrible excuse for a temporary logo.
  

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